Out of India

Published: Verve Magazine, Features, April 2012

It’s best if your kids get trained on home ground to face the intricacies of a splashy European holiday, as you travel in season with the jet setters of the world. But while tossing around the Mediterranean waves, are Indian kids missing out on knowing their own turf, asks Sitanshi Talati-Parikh

It took a leisurely Sunday brunch conversation at Café Zoe, a new Manhattan-style eatery in South Mumbai – exposed brick, metal beams et al – to remind us of what makes an Indian Summer. For those without school-going children, vacations are all about nipping off to the next hotspot all year round. Children tend to make social lives non-existent and travel plans seasonal. In my time, childhood summer vacations expanded into long sunny and muggy days of reading, swimming, learning tennis; the lucky ones travelling to Disney World or coral sighting around the Reef, catching spring on one end and autumn on the other. Now, with the advent of the International Baccalaureate educational system (IB) – prudently adopted by the crème de la crème schools of the country – the concept of a summer vacation (matching the international breaks around June-July) if not travelling abroad, would be incredibly difficult days of watching the rain pelt away and probably kicking around some slimy mush.

No sensible parent would make the mistake of keeping the kids homebound during these difficult months. And so, as a matter of course, summer breaks have changed dramatically to be Riviera cruising or Tuscany villa-bathing. Indians and their little tots are quite in with the European jet set, hopping onto a chartered yacht for a soiree or catching a rave in Ibiza after the kids are snoozing. Not surprisingly, the IB system fits in beautifully with the LV-armed maternistas’ (mothers who are fashionistas or even simply, yummy mummies) idea of a chic vacation. The Far East is suitable for a quick turn during Easter, Europe and its many sophisticated charms make for a cultural rendezvous in the summer break, and Latin America and its mysterious Incas and Brazilian parades fit in quite neatly during Christmas and New Year.

The world is the child’s oyster and you may actually counter: for someone who must surely play a part in global politics of the future in some capacity, is it not important to start the education young? To that effect, it might just be ideal to switch Sunday brunches from chilli cheese dosa to whole-wheat apricot pancakes. From the local Udipi guy to Pali Village Café. Ironically, what we New Age Indians love about these new café hotspots is their intrinsic non-Indianness. You find yourself celebrating the escape from what is India into a safe haven of faux cobblestones, rustic interiors and Latino soundtracks. In any case, it is wise to alter their (the children’s) taste buds to suit the vacation spots, for most ease of use. After all, no self-respecting Burberry mum will allow for her child to demand dal-chawal in Marbella. Popularised by Zoya Akhtar’s 2011 film Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, children look forward in tangy anticipation to the La Tomatina festival in Bunõl as a wonderful cultural experience to whet an appetite for a freshly stomped meal. It’s not surprising then, that there’s an unnatural buzz in the air about Starbucks finally coming to India this year and Australian coffee house Di Bella making its foray into desi turf. Does one actually expect those little Gucci shoes to prance into a genuinely unpainted local Iranian café when there is an option of a peppermint frappuccino in a Christmas-carol touting, chicly hand-painted coffee shop?

The kids are wonderfully globalised, with curios for their rooms from every part of the world, and possibly a cultural hangover which can be passed off as jet lag. It is unlikely that Mount Abu or Meenakshi fit into the grand scheme of things, unless it’s a part of a school field trip. India is exactly that – a field trip, quite like going to the zoo or bird sanctuary or a museum: to be looked at with wonder, noted for a history or sociology class. You turn away with the first roots of cynicism as you wonder why our monuments can’t be as nicely kept as the ones we see abroad. You come away with a sense of loss and a protective distaste for the sights and smells of the country that will possibly stay with you a lifetime. The same smells that writers of the diaspora sigh about dreamily form a noxious accent to the lives of those who live here. Would we want our children to grow up fondly reminiscing about the urea-scented trips to the Elephanta caves, when they could deliberate on the Mona Lisa’s mystical smile over a Parisian pain au chocolat?

As it turns out, India is merely an option – or more rightly, Indianness is merely an option. It’s like a home menu that reads: Thai Monday, Mexican Tuesday, Italian Wednesday, Indian Thursday and Hibachi grill Friday. It’s not just about the food; it’s about looking at an Indian life. Cosmopolitan India is about rapidly assimilating the lifestyle of the world and making the city more palatable. It is no longer the expats who crave a Chilean sea bass and hop across to their local gourmet restaurant. It is the Indian who craves something regularly non-Indian to make him stay sane in a city that exhausts him with its grey clouds of monotony. If you can’t live abroad, at least the proverbial ‘Chef’ Mohammed can bring ‘abroad’ to your neighbourhood. There may have been a time when Indians just wanted to be cool and try new things. Today, Indians want international flavour with a sense of permanence. Indianness is merely chutney on the Mediterranean focaccia: in turn, layered, dipped into, hidden or wiped away.

Maybe in spirit, a city-dweller is a restless species, an eternal traveller, one who is looking for escape from home before he returns home. Maybe we just need to slow down: the pace of the city – with our always-online work, rapid-fire social connections perpetually drain us, and we need to be recharged often if not sooner. Our children face it from the word ‘Go’ – with their language classes for six-month-olds, baby gyms for nine-month-olds, and birthday parties every alternate day. Maybe it is a genetic illness we are passing along in growing measures down generations – that we can’t quite stop planning the next getaway before the first break has ended. It keeps the adrenalin pumping, keeps up the excitement to land at Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport (or your own desi equivalent) with a spring in your step, just brimming with the knowledge that soon you’ll be back here, taking off to another place of intrigue.

An acquaintance points out that her sister has spent five years in the coolest, hippest, buzziest city in the world – New York, and yet, can’t wait to get away occasionally. So maybe it is less that we tire of India and more that we tire in general. It’s just that when we do get weary, we look far away for solace – wine country, beaches of Croatia…. What’s wrong with a neatly reworked heritage place – think Neemrana – in the nostalgic Matheran of our own childhood to build the memories of our children’s youth? As the desis would say it – though I doubt they would be couture (kosher) – ‘Culture ka culture ho jayega, aur holiday ka holiday.’

Tagged India Motherhood Travel Verve Magazine

Full of Emptiness (Taken off from @parmeshs's column)

I recently read Parmesh Shahani's (Editor-at-Large, Verve Magazine) latest column in Verve Magazine's April 2012 issue. He speaks about Kenya Hara's (Japanese creative director of global brand Muji, writer, professor) recent visit to India and his talk at the Godrej India Culture Lab.

"Empty does not mean simple.... Empty is about the possibility of being filled. It is about alternatives, about potentiality."

I think in any consumerist culture, you tend to fill voids, spaces and minds with a lot of junk. Particularly in a socially-networked world, you are not only filling your mind with things that interest you, but also things that appear to happen to and interest everyone else you know. In much the way that if your walls are not free to host that work of art you may find along the way, or your home is cluttered with so much stuff that you can barely find your way to the door, our minds tend to be filled - all the time. From the moment we wake to right before we sleep, we are unable to declutter our minds. If there is no space to think, then how will we ever become creators or visionaries?

Empty spaces and empty minds are not valued in developing cultures - because there is a greed to own, consume, buy, fill - to prove that one has arrived. That one exists. It may very well be true that one exists when there is nothing to prove or display. The very void that scares us, gives us the chance to grow. It is about time we distanced ourselves from consuming, and gave our minds a chance to breathe.

Tagged Thoughts

Baby's Week Out

Published: Verve Magazine, March 2010
Illustration by Farzana Cooper

Singapore – the destination everyone’s been to. Repeatedly. With children in tow. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh keeps a diary of her eventful trip to baby-friendly Singapore with her eight-month-old – where things turn out not quite as they were meant to be

Day 1: Mumbai baggage
It’s a packer’s nightmare. You start by making a list. Until you realise that you could go on adding to-dos, but you may still forget something. And then you start hyperventilating. You take a really deep, shaky breath and realise – ‘Oh big deal – it’s Singapore. They have everything.’ As an intrepid traveller, I’ve battled my roots to attempt to travel light. No longer is it about, ‘What if I need this very pair of understated Anne Klein pumps over the glitzy Nine West ones?’ I am now confronted with packing for an eight-month-old infant. Her suitcase is nearly as big as I am. I’ve called ahead and asked our hotel to organise sterilisers, bottle warmers, baby cot, baby bathtub and stroller…but even so, as a friend once shrugged and said, “You want to travel with a baby, you can forget about travelling light.” And I’ve only taken one pair of shoes – the one on my feet.

Day 1: Flights and bassinet seats
The flight is uneventful, relatively speaking. My darling child dutifully falls asleep in my arms, soon after take-off, I gently put her into the bassinet in front of me. I’m just about to loosen my stiff limbs and try to settle in for a nap, when there is a slight rumble and the harried air hostess requests me firmly, ignoring my appalled expression, to remove the child from the bassinet due to anticipated air turbulence. Baby sets off a heart-wrenching wail at being disturbed from her deep sleep. I shush and rock her back to sleep over the next 45 minutes and hold her in my arms for the hours until we reach, setting off cramps in muscles I didn’t know existed. That’s the eventful part.

Day 2: Singapore and strollers
Landing in Singapore, I smile in the early morning light, dreaming of organic baby food, chic baby-friendly restaurants and malls with comfortable baby-changing stations. I already know that the city is organised around strollers – making it a piece of cake to walk around the wide pavements. Except…when your hotel accesses the main walkway through an underpass. So, I need to lug Baby and stroller down a flight of stairs, walk, and then up another flight of stairs to reach the pedestrian street. Oh no! How many times would I have to do this every day? I spy the biggest Zara on Oxford and a Starbucks right next to it. I can already see many happy hours spent between the two. Both are accessible via a flight of stairs. I’m not really into this lugging-the-stroller-up-to-shop-and-sip thing. I turn away with a sinking heart.

Day 3: The Great Singapore Sale and diapers
Of course, I have unwittingly chosen an optimum time of the year to pop into the city – at the end of the Great Shopping Festival – which means that all the malls are sickeningly busy and crowded, and waiting for the elevator to traverse floors means waiting forever. So Baby is now getting accustomed to travelling at an incline. The stroller is angled onto the escalator, with a bemused toddler strapped in.

I make a beeline for the nearest store to buy all the required baby things. From grocery store to medical store to convenience chain, each shrugs and points to the next one. I find myself amazed. My part of Orchard Street is completely sold out on Pampers’ diapers in Baby’s size. Apparently, every child in Singapore is a size medium. Good Lord, help me find diapers.

Day 4: Jurong Bird Park and lorries
At Jurong Bird Park, Baby discovers the lorries. Startlingly awake from her afternoon nap (as we sweat up and down the park route driving the stroller and a sleeping Baby), she is thrilled to see them squawking away, flying in and perching on our hands and eating off our palms. She laughs and claps her hands at the sheer number of them, gurgles at the happy swish of colours.

Day 5: High chairs and changing stations
If there’s anything that Singapore should get full marks for, it’s the fact that any and every restaurant, even the tiniest coffee shop, will have a high chair. It makes it seem that children are wanted and are meant to be assimilated into the culture and not to be left home, like in India. While shopping for Baby on the fifth floor of Paragon, we take a break at the café nearby. It is also possibly the only one in Singapore without a high chair. A tad ironic, seeing that it is located in the children’s section of the mall!

After a run on the toy train at the play area, I walk smugly to the fancy diaper-changing station. I know this is going to be easy. What I haven’t accounted for is that Baby isn’t taking very well to being placed flat on a cold hard surface for her least favourite moment of the day. She sets off a massive howl that scares the daylights out of the ladies around. I don’t dare imagine what is running through their minds. I move away from the sophisticated station and prop myself onto a sofa and try to change her on my lap. There goes convenience. Not pleased at being huddled about, Baby doesn’t stop shrieking until she’s sitting up. I manage to pacify her with Olivia the Owl – her new best friend procured from the toy store nearby.

Day 6: Tiffany’s lullabies and the many colours of Sephora
I’ve worked out a great schedule based on where I want to shop and eat, so that Baby gets her sleep and meals bang on time. But as I cut through Takashimaya, right outside the understated bling of Tiffany’s, Baby suddenly wants to get out of her stroller and into my arms to sleep. I can’t sing lullabies to her in front of Tiffany’s with a straight face! Finding a quiet niche, I settle her in and tuck her into the stroller. As I quickly make my way to my target, Sephora, she’s up and awake dazzled by the colours and jarred by the music in the store. How will I ever shop here?

Day 6: Dancing rainbows at Clarke Quay
We set off for a quick evening meal at the lively waterside. Baby is quite well behaved, checking out the happenings. How perfect it all is! I excitedly prop open the newly acquired, organic, European baby porridge. I see to my horror that the food won’t mix, it’s coagulating and poor Baby is valiantly trying to chew with distaste. I distract her with the dancing colour water fountains in quiet desperation.

Day 6: Designer indecisions
No one goes shopping in Singapore without returning with a few prized designer goods. Some, like the Verve stylists, pre-decide what they have their eyes set on. For me, it would be impulse buys. My indecision leads me to make the walk back and forth between Prada and Miu Miu – which means Baby comes along for the ride. If only she could help me choose…but she seems content to sit back and listen to the muted music in the stores and eye the expressionless Japanese lady buying six pairs of shoes. A people-watcher, already.

Day 7: Night-time margaritas
Taking a taxi to grab dinner at Margaritas is totally worth it. Great Mexican food and ambience and enough wall paintings to keep Baby busy while I wolf down that enchilada, washing it back with the restaurant’s signature drink. From express dim sum lunches to fine-dining Thai, Baby has settled well into high-chair eating, but doesn’t quite master the patience bit, wreaking sweet havoc with the silverware and table mats. A shoe falls off, a spoon goes tinkling down, a fork spears the tiles, paper napkins find themselves arranged at floor level and a mischievous grin keeps you from tearing your hair out.

And then you take a sneak peak around – other children are equally busy self-entertaining themselves, and the only glances in our direction are indulgent ones. That’s what makes Singapore baby-friendly. Not the availability of baby food and diapers (or not), but the fact that they get it – what it means to be a parent who wants to eat a nice meal out and doesn’t want to leave Baby behind. And for those who do, most hotels in the city offer baby sitters.

Tagged Motherhood Travel Verve Magazine

Verve's Bollywood Style Awards 2012

Published: Verve Magazine, Features

Indian cinema has proven with its recent offerings that it can confidently step up to the plate and serve style that matches the character and mood of the movie rather than cook up a half-baked stew of fashion and metre. As Verve pointed out last year, couture has found a definite place in Indian cinema, whether through a subtle pair of designer shades or through a statement handbag. The good news is high fashion isn’t being used as candy floss on the big screen – it’s playing a specific role. Costumiers are equally willing to turn to village threads for authenticity, or design garish, bordering-on-the-vulgar outfits for a real-life character, as they are to doll up their actors in an international label. While there may not be any path-breaking moves here, costume design 2011 has been authentic, stylish and character-oriented. It sets the stage to push the envelope further, away from the sensationalist and dysfunctional ensembles of the past. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh picks out four movies that impressed with their true-to-the-grain styling, and Verve recreates these looks with young actors Sarah Jane Dias and Sahil Shroff.


AUTHENTIC RECREATION: MAUSAM
Lovleen Bains for Sonam Kapoor and Shahid Kapoor

Mausam01
For the clothes to take a backseat for a change and let real-life fashionista Sonam Kapoor’s character shine is no easy feat. Playing a simple Kashmiri refugee in Punjab, she faces Shahid Kapoor, a small town boy, in Mausam. You find the costumes hold their weight in their sheer subtlety – from the gaucheness of Shahid’s college blazer to the sophisticated tailoring of his air force pilot outfit; his character transitions in the very seams. Sonam’s transformation from youthful girl to a mature woman is rooted in her ethnicity: even as she dons international garb when living abroad, the Anamika Khanna-crafted red gown worn in Scotland has Indian embroidery on it, and the Kashmiri embroidered shawls are reminiscent of her Indianness.

Shades change with seasons and locations: the young lovers’ innocence is portrayed with the use of whites and creams in a wintry Punjab, picking up earthy hues along the way, through geographical displacement and character maturity. For instance, Sonam’s pale Kashmiri kurtas and dupattas soon reflect the happier shades of Punjab. When the characters meet again, in the church in Scotland, they are both, once more, in white. “Colour is almost a leitmotif in the film,” says Bains. Intentionally imperfect hand-stitching on Shahid’s college blazer, ageing of clothes to show wear, a fixed wardrobe with repetitions (Shahid had one pair of jeans through the first season except for the song sequences), researching the right length for Sonam’s kurtas, having Shahid’s sweaters woven by Punjabi village folk over gossip sessions and sarson ka saag, there is a thread of authenticity and rootedness in Lovleen Bains’ costume design of Mausam that is devoid of the trappings of Bollywood sensationalism.


URBAN SASS: ZINDAGI NA MILEGI DOBARA
Arjun Bhasin for Hrithik Roshan, Farhan Akhtar, Katrina Kaif, Abhay Deol and Kalki Koechlin

Znmd04
If last year’s Aisha had Dior handbags floating on every arm, 2011’s ZNMD makes ‘Bagwati’ a character – with her own position in the plotline. And the ostrich Hermes Kelly is styled with shades and a scarf occasionally, when the weather requires it. This is probably the first time fashion is used as a plot device in Indian cinema – an obvious barb at Kalki Koechlin’s prissy couture- conscious Natasha. Her blunt cut with sharp bangs, kitten heels, Chanel jacket and designer-everything says more than the pinched expression on her face ever could. The look is reminiscent of Molly-Ringwald-in-Pretty-in-Pink – except that unlike Ringwald’s second-hand, hand-stitched attire, Koechlin/Natasha’s clothes are an expensive combination of fresh-off-the-ramp and couture classics. In sharp contrast – as each character forms a fashion foil to the other – Katrina Kaif’s easy-going Laila philosophises in flowing dresses and tresses, easy-breezy beach wear and minimal makeup. Even a basic transformation into biker-chick requires her to wear a lightly ruffled-edged corset over jeans, always feminine and sexy.

With the boys, each actor’s personal tastes and style are visible. Abhay Deol has a naturally leggy, geeky look. The design takes it a step further for his character, Kabir, with over-the-top nerd spectacles, quirky shirts – think birds-taking-flight – teamed up with sneakers and a backpack that he hoists defensively when grilled about his life’s choices. Hrithik Roshan’s beefy look is toned down with buttoned shirts as the audience can’t be allowed to question how Arjun, a work-obsessed investment banker finds time to go to the gym while ignoring his girlfriend. (Of course, the toned shirtless body on the hoardings makes for a happy box office draw.) As the story unfolds, he loosens up, and so do his hair and styling. Farhan Akhtar is pushed further into a character scripted for him: quirky, philosophical poet, entirely boho chic. Aviator shades, loose pants, kurtas and long-sleeved t-shirts teemed with a random neck scarf and hat that he sports, on occasion, even outside the film.

Every look comes together cohesively, billed directly to director, Zoya Akhtar’s vivid visualization and stylist Arjun Bhasin’s recreation: detailed character-oriented styling and couture that slides into everyday life. We just wish it could’ve been a little more experimental – there is no room for a subtle overflow like a preppy artist, for instance. While ZNMD’s picture-perfect styling serves to
perpetuate stereotypes rather than demolish them, it does so rather appealingly.


YOUTH CULT: ROCKSTAR
Aki Narula for Ranbir Kapoor

Rockstar01
Polish artist Grzegorz Domaradzki set the stage with his poster sketch of Rockstar. You couldn’t help but know that the look and performance would be iconic and the movie didn’t disappoint – at least on those counts. Tight-assed Janardhan (Ranbir Kapoor) in his too-fitted jeans, too-snug sweater, too-crisp shirts and too-short hair is an obvious exaggeration to the transformation that becomes rock star Jordan. Free of inhibitions and full of angst, Jordan dresses exactly the way he feels – unfettered, irreverent, defiant and often unwashed. As he moves to his own tune, treating societal norms, business conventions and geographical boundaries in the same dismissive manner that he does anything that comes in the way of his single-minded vision, he becomes an unwilling anti-authoritarian cult figure. And to that effect, he redefines the Nehru cap as a fashion ploy. Even as detractors and politicos may shift uneasily, Kapoor makes it work.

What stand out are his wardrobe staples (often repeated in the film for realistic styling): the snazzy anti-establishment military jacket, the Qawwal jackets – a call to his Sufi leanings, the mocking feather-topped Sadda Haq police shirt, all teamed with the clever individualistic version of loose patiala pants and kurtas – ultimate comfort wear. Love the fact that there is no leather or biker rock look – so often over done and stereotypical. What impresses is the refreshing take on a rock star. Packaged with Kapoor’s long, unkempt hair, accessorised with a chain around the neck that houses his first broken guitar string and guitar pick along with other souvenirs, Aki Narula, director Imtiaz Ali and Ranbir Kapoor have visualised possibly the iconic look of the year, to be imitated and popularised by young college kids until the next grunge look rocks its way in.


RETRO RENDERING: THE DIRTY PICTURE
Niharika Khan for Vidya Balan

Tdp04
Even before the film released, Vidya Balan’s bosom encased in Niharika Khan’s suggestive designs made for feverish conversations and post the film’s release, one hears of ‘Ooh la la’ saris becoming popular commercially. If Vidya Balan has the mettle to take on an author-backed sensational role of this kind and further it with panache, then Khan has done more than her job to ensure that Balan’s character stays suitably unclothed throughout. For the racy protagonist, the costumes of the ’80s south are garish, loud and boldly uncouth – as the script intends it. The camera makes love to Vidya Balan’s unfettered body, and the clothes caress her intentionally untoned figure: you watch Balan attempting to button up her jeans over her flabby stomach with an enviably unconcerned attitude towards her generous midriff.

From the tight short dresses, the pelvis-hugging flared pants, to the cleavage-baring cholis and retro shirts, everything shrieks for attention. Where Bobby’s Dimple Kapadia and Once Upon a Time in Mumbai’s Prachi Desai conveyed youthful, shy sensuousness with their midriff baring, polka-dot front-tie shirts, Balan is unabashedly lusty and in-your-face with her wantonness in similar outfits. And yet, caught in a moment of vulnerability, Balan’s character, Silk, makes the walk of shame the morning after being dumped for the wife, attempting to shrink into the folds of her red sequined gown; but in the harsh morning light, it’s too tight for comfort or respect.

Ironically, for Silk, it’s all synthetic and the glitz of sequined make-believe. From the dull, aged South Indian cottons of Reshma’s village wear, and the lamé and brightness of Silk the superstar, to the unflattering wardrobe of an alcoholic, the clothes define every turn in the script. As Khan points out, “The film is about the character’s relationship with her clothing and body – and Balan is brave, far braver than even I could be, to take on this role.” These are the clothes of a woman whose attitude speaks more than her wardrobe, and her wardrobe merely perpetuates her freewheeling attitude. Whether Silk tries to hide or take the world in her stride, her clothes reveal her spirit and character – loud, brash, irreverent, attention-seeking, ambitious and vulnerable – and always exposed.

Tagged Bollywood Bollywood Style Awards Fashion Indian cinema Style Verve Magazine

Superheroes, ha!

Published: Verve Magazine, February 2012, Features

Illustration by Bappa

Superhero02
This summer, costumed crime-fighters return to the big screen in their darkest form – plagued by physical failings and emotional dilemmas. This may be their sexiest avatar, ever. What is it about sinister grey shades that make a woman see passionate purple? And can a woman ever stand by a male world-protector, holding her own? Sitanshi Talati-Parikh explores the subterranean world of fantasy fiction

MALE SUPERHEROES: 
the ultimate turn-on
There’s a general buzz in the air about the much-awaited release of Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises where the costumed crime-fighter, Batman, is pushed to breaking point. The Amazing Spiderman, also releasing this summer, grapples with human and super-human crises. Superheroes are by default meant to be indestructible. That makes them sexy. But in the world of karmic angst and philosophical revolt, our superheroes are sexier in their existential and painfully human form. Maybe the allure lies in the fact that these are people who have transgressed above and beyond and are able to fight their own weaknesses and fears, and ours. Every cathartic battle makes them take a leap of fantasy in our psychedelic emotions – our subconscious mind becomes a battlefield of latent desires, every fight is a fight for survival. It’s about power. Not just at the obvious level, but at the level of hope. We hope that good can still win over evil. And yet, we hope that it’s a photo finish, because we are afraid of closure. If it all ends today, if everything is said, and all ends are nicely tied up what will we take home to our fantasies?

Indian superheroes are fantastical caricatures at best and over-the-top mystical drones at worst. There is no real superhero culture in commercial Indian cinema. We watch Ra.1 (2011) for Shah Rukh Khan’s exaggerated antics, Robot (2010) for Rajinikanth’s omniscience, and Drona (2008) for…nothing. In Indian cinema, the movie star is the superhero – he’s not an actor, he’s playing a larger-than-life persona. It gives him the ability to do anything, while also at a very simplistic level describing good and bad. Superheroes of Hollywood are a far more refined species, evolving over time to greater levels of depth and mystery. They have undergone many changes, versions and personalities to reach a point of climax. From a rather simplistic beginning during the time of the World War, where economic downturn led to a desire for a better life, a strong role model and a saviour for the average man; to returning in a new avatar: the confident anti-hero, standing up to the establishment, patriotic and powerful. Today we have a disturbed, grey superhero: who is battling his own demons, external and internal. No one can fight evil continuously without feeling the ramifications. Even in fantasy literature, Frodo and Harry Potter found themselves turning vicious under the brunt of carrying the malicious ring and destroying Horcruxes in Lord of the Rings – Return of the King and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows respectively. Similarly, in superhero fiction, what makes the current Hollywood costumed crime-fighter worth his weight in gold is the intensity of his emotional drama. His mental battles are ours as we make constant switches between the right and wrong decision. What is good and bad? Who defines it? Is making a bad decision for the greater good okay? Most people don’t face the weight of decisions where cities and worlds get impacted. The superhero’s crisis is supreme. He fights more than his own anxieties; he fights a world’s anxieties.

The power to be in that position and the eventual control he wields makes him obviously an object of desire – but the real sexiness comes from how human he actually is. His turmoil appeals to the nurturing instinct in every woman, and the desire to have him win, willing him along mentally, grips a girl through another superhero summer. Gadgets, indestructibility, strength, resilience, super-intelligence, metaphysical abilities…and an inner reservoir of good make the superhero a classic stereotype of attractiveness. What’s a regular girl asking of a regular boy? Physical desirability, material comfort, good nature, the strength to be her man. Every man spends a lifetime trying to be a superhero and every girl waits for a man to become one for her.

Popularised by teenage comic-book geeks, the genre grew from strength-to-strength inside the mental fantasy of a boy who was yet to come into his own. He is exalted in this make-believe secret world of crime fighting, where his deepest desire of leading a life far removed from his own, where what he believed himself capable of in an alternate universe appears to become a reality. He isn’t the jock, but he’s the guy with secret powers to save the world. He will be an outcast, because he isn’t like them, he is more than them. He yearns for the cutest girl in school, but he can’t have her because of the life he must lead to complete his mission. Along the way, he becomes desirable – he is so focused and inherently strong, that women begin to notice him. We begin to take him seriously. And in there lies his fulfilment – he may be too busy to get anything more than a chaste kiss, but the very fact that he is desirable is enough for him. And it must be enough for us. His sexiness is in his unreachability, in his very unavailability.

FEMALE SUPERHEROES: 
a failed species

In this whole scheme of things, what’s a woman’s role? Superheroes have evolved in their failings and flaws, but their women remain the same – waiting to be rescued, waiting to be loved. Spiderman yearns for Mary Jane, but it seems trite that he can never have her, despite being a superhero, because he’s a superhero. Superheroes have a duty to protect and cherish, but no place for love. They cannot endanger their lady love by bringing them into their web of crime-fighting and uncovering their secret identity. Is that merely ironic or is it a foundation for martyrdom? It’s like a Mills and Boon romance with an unresolved ending. Maybe, as the Twilight romance has proven, endurance – in the age of free sex – is a turn on. And it is possible that we want the people we look up to, to not get it all – to suffer and pay the price of power. Who does the superhero come home to after a hard day’s work? Would his failings and existential pangs have been resolved had he been able to experience a companion’s love, advice and support? Is a woman a superhero’s Kryptonite or elixir?

The story of good versus evil is romantic – whether in its blatant form of a leading love interest or in its subconscious form of bromance (Batman and Robin) and in its metaphysical form of evil serenading good, calling it out and finding itself extinguished in the flame of its love. And in this romanticism, detractors find much to say. Spiderman 2 spent too much time philosophising and romancing and too little fighting crime, say some. Indian superheroes are supreme – they manage to dance and make merry love while all along giving a hearty fight to the supervillains.

A superheroine? Does she exist? Catwoman, Batgirl, Spiderwoman, Ice, Wonder Woman, Xena... the list is quite long but unimpressive. While more popular in their comic book versions than their cinematic ones, these fabulous women don’t leave a lasting impression (except for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but when vampires get involved it’s a different story altogether) the way the men do – probably because the men watching want to be in power and not be overpowered. So there is waif-fu. A character dependent on waif-fu is best described as a pint-sized powerhouse: an attractive woman with moves that can bring a man to his knees. Literally. If she is captured or pinned she doesn’t stand a chance, making her a good kidnap victim and a key plot turner. We want our women strong, but our men stronger. In women men look for resilience, patience, love... no superhuman powers and strengths. Men want to be seen as protectors and women as their emotional saviours. One would think a supergirl with powers would be the eternal turn on, but apparently, a woman in power is far sexier than a woman with powers. Demi Moore in Disclosure (1994) wins over Halle Berry’s Catwoman, any day.

The comic book industry may actually be male-dominated – after all, a lack of female readership of comic books was suggested as the reason behind keeping ‘women in refrigerators’: an inside term among the comic book circles implying doing away with the female lead as a plot device. And can a woman be his partner in crime? Fan blogs yearn for a true female superhero, the kind that can be more than just a foil to the male lead. But that may not actually work. Take the case in popular fiction of famous sleuths: The Hardy Boys – if you plan to read them, can you complain about the female positioning (or the lack of)? Bringing Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys together, we have seen, never really worked – it is a recipe for disaster. How can the balance of power sit on the fence? Drew being rescued will make the Boys’ fans snicker with glee and annoy Drew’s fans; Drew playing power woman will turn off the boys. It wouldn’t be much different for a thrilling plot play of Batman and Catwoman, for instance. Coming together of male and female superheroes and crime fighters – unless it is for some fun on the side – is like treading on eggshells. One would have to be subservient to the other: there can be only one dominant hero, and by default and by popular vote, it tends to be the male hero. The fantasy industry does propagate stereotypes, but that isn’t surprising as most of popular culture works on the foundation of male supremacy. And in that world, women are but accessories to the greater good of mankind. And so we must lie.

Tagged Superheroes Verve Magazine

Vidya Balan: The Next Aamir Khan?

Why Vidya Balan is all set to be the female version of Aamir Khan in Bollywood....

Many actresses have looks and talents and a few have both. But what sets a handful apart is when audiences wait for their next as unique and different, as unsual choices, and worth watching. Post her initial success, Balan, like Khan floundered in a couple of commercial films that did her talent no merit. But quickly, she found her ground and stood it. She is treading the fine line between off-beat and commercially successful that possibly only Rekha could before here, where her films now make for coffee-table discussions.

What works for Balan is her sheer versatility. She can morph herself into the character, much like Khan, so that there isn't a trace of her real-life persona visible, besides her voice and features. No mannerisms, no particular nuances that one attributes to a person. She doesn't bring herself on screen, she only brings a character, and that too a finely-drawn, deeply nuanced character.

That is possibly the difference between a fine actor and a movie star. A movie star can't let go of their own persona, even momentarily on screen - think Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan and Kareena Kapoor - while a fine actor becomes whom he/she requires to be on screen. Many actors can don this persona for a specific kind of role - Ajay Devgn for gansta films, Abhishek Bachchan for Guru, Saif Ali Khan for Omkara, or Anil Kapoor for humorous, slimy characters like the one in Slumdog and MI4. And some like Saif Ali Khan and Anil Kapoor can even show a breadth of talent across the board. The others not listed here, like Ranbir Kapoor, are all extremely watchable, entertaining and even powerful in their screen presence, but they can't let you forget who it is on screen that's playing that role. Their personal presence often or momentarily overpowers their character.

To become another person on screen, and remain so through the entire film, over and over again through a wide range of films is possibly the mastery of only two actors at the moment in Hindi cinema - Aamir Khan and Vidya Balan. Their choices will always be followed, their movies will always have a definite audience, and their fans will remain discerning. That is not to say that there isn't a place for other actors and movie stars, but it is to point out that Khan and Balan will remain a class apart in their profession of choice - acting. They will remain actors before they become superstars or moviestars.

Movie references:

Vidya: Ishqiya, No One Killed Jessica, The Dirty Picture, Paa, Parineeta, Guru, Salaam-e-ishq

Aamir: All his films since he began doing a single film a year! (mid 90s), particularly the ones in the last decade.

Tagged Aamir Khan Bollywood Indian cinema Vidya Balan

And one man we love to hate. (Hint: Five Point OMG)

Just watched Love2HateU with the celebrity guest being Chetan Bhagat. I feel rather bad for the hater, the poor girl stood no chance against Bhagat’s generous Gandhi-ism. He was so beatifically patronizing and condescending that I wonder she didn’t throw something at him. But that’s Chetan Bhagat – a huge icon and idol to some and a huge eyebrow raiser to others.

Bhagat’s success – and he is astonishingly successful – is because he has crawled through the cracks and found his target audience. And what a target audience that is. The non-readers. Instead of churning out a high-brow book filled with beautiful metaphors and aiming for the Booker, Bhagat does what he does best – appeal to the section of the readers that is undiscerning. But that’s not to say that his writing has no merit. It’s just unpalatable to a reader who wants something more – an enhanced literary experience, if you must.

Bhagat makes no pretensions about his literary aspirations, but he appears to consider you with pitiful glances if you question his success. He basks in his own stupendous success, often lying on a raft of self-appreciation, and what irks people is that his raft never, ever capsizes. Top models can have a bad hair day, brilliant directors can have a box office flop, the Sensex can crash, but Chetan Bhagat only goes from strength to strength.

His hater questioned the audience and their intelligence. One girl defensively answered, “Ya we read other stuff. But I don’t want to read Rushdie. I’d much rather read Bhagat.” So you have a polarized readership of Indians. The ones who read Rushdie or Amitav Ghosh and the ones who read Bhagat. Bhagat has automatically found his masses, found his safety in numbers and addressed the people who look for easy escapism in reading and not for anything challenging. Bhagat is proud of the fact that he has made people who don't read, read. Readers are appalled by the fact that these non-readers have begun with reading his books and set their literary standard there. But each to his own, right?

And in a democratic world, readers should have that choice. Readers should have beach novels, glossy magazines, Mills & Boon and Bhagat. It isn’t annoying that Bhagat’s books are valid reading options for people. What’s annoying is how much people like them, and give him a reason to keep going. And it would be far less annoying if he didn’t think so much of himself. “I’m happy to be on this show (Love2HateU) because my new book has just released and I want to know that there are people here who don’t like what I do, not just people who enjoy my books.” Oh stuff it.

Tagged Books Chetan Bhagat India Literature Love2HateU

Dangerous Liasons: Men we hate to love (Indian cinema)

Dangerous Liasons

Verve Man, October 2011

Some say women are suckers for punishment, others believe that the young rebellious teen attracts the irresponsible Willoughby, while a grown woman is always in want of a decent man. History is witness to many a woman falling flat in the face while chasing a rogue beau. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh examines the shining Indian silver screen examples of lovable dangerous men

Straight-laced men don’t make for racy fantasies, skipping heartbeats and sexual tension. They lack the edge, the drive, the sizzle, the power to tug at our heartstrings and wreak sweet havoc with our lives. Women are attracted to danger like a moth to a flame – there has to be reason that phrase has become a cliché. There’s something inordinately sexy about a man who knows what
he wants and will stop at nothing to get it. Getting a playboy’s attention is not necessarily about a notch on the belt as much as it is about being alluring enough to grab his attention. And deep down inside, every woman attracted to a naughty bloke feels that somewhere, there is a chance that she can fix him. That she can be the person he will surrender to, will change for, and will eventually become some version of the Utopian male they have in their head. And so they all fall.

They Work With Passion

This obsession with the men who are not quite toeing the line possibly began with Amitabh Bachchan’s Angry Young Man. Not a bad lot, but a man who is roaring with discontent – he’s full of testosterone, a desire to avenge all that’s wrong. He’s not passive. He’s not even passive-aggressive. He’s raging male. With a whole bunch of adolescent hormones. You know he has passion – for what he believes in – and you can easily imagine how that would translate – in bed and out of it. Shahenshah’s (1988) avenger became Shah Rukh Khan in Baazigar (1993). He played his hands, the cards turned in his favour and he got his own back, albeit with a massive amount of gore. The cinema of the 70s through the 80s threw up seething, vengeful heroes, those who were not apologetic about treading on a few lives. Recently, Aamir Khan’s Ghajini (2008) – with Khan’s character looming large over the messy revenge scene – in his own words, brought back the action genre with a Dabangg (2010).

They Steal Our Hearts

With the exception of chiseled-chin Vinod Khanna who debuted in cinema as the bad guy, it is only post 2000 that we have become somewhat sophisticated about our wayward heroes. Hrithik Roshan in Dhoom 2 (2006) oozed charm and stunning sex appeal – he didn’t even have an excuse about being bad, he just was.

Luckily though he wasn’t out to kill anyone, just cop a few shiny ones. Maybe it is the Dhoom franchise that has successfully converted our picture-perfect heroes into those with grey shades. Who cares if the guy you date is a bit of a thief? If he looks half as good as John Abraham from Dhoom (2004) or Roshan, or can provide half as much intellectual stimulation as Aamir Khan (the upcoming villain in Dhoom 3)…that would be a love life worth writing home about. Moot to point out that no one really notices the unshaven, paunchy good guy, the cop: Abhishek Bachchan. Has anyone ever wanted the good guy to lose as badly as in the Dhoom movies?

They Kill Us Softly With One Look

Going back a few years, can one deny that Saif Ali Khan actually became sizzling hot on screen in 2004 – in his comeback era – in the completely negative role Ek Hasina Thi? Which girl wouldn’t succumb to his charms? He made being a rogue look cool. And soon after in Being Cyrus (2005). All this, while maintaining his status quo as a premier romantic hero; and ironically, if not surprisingly, consolidating his screen appeal with repeated negative roles – including that of the recent clandestine terrorist in Kurbaan (2009).

They Play Good Cop, Bad Cop With Our Emotions

Anil Kapoor in Ram Lakhan. Was he good or was he bad? It’s hard to tell, even after watching the classic repeatedly. In Shahenshah, Amitabh Bachchan played an ineffectual corrupt cop, while fighting for justice, out of the system. Women go weak-kneed over a man in uniform, especially if it’s an errant cop out to play Robin Hood. The success of Dabangg – and Salman Khan shaking his uniformed body to national hysteria – heralds the revival of cop dramas and high-risk love lives.

They Cleverly Win Us Over

Ishwar ‘Langda’ Tyagi in Omkara (2006) completely took the movie to different heights, and the disgust one felt for the character was smudged with grudging admiration. You give a man brains and his mental prowess is bound to not go unnoticed.

They Wield Power Over Our Thoughts

Ajay Devgn made underworld dons appear cool – with an enviable display of control, smoothness and above all, power. As Al Pacino proved in Scarface (1983) that power attracts women, Devgn proved it with Company (2002) and a few years later with Once Upon A Time In Mumbai (2010). In fact, in OUATIM, Emraan Hashmi managed to keep his girl by his side despite ill-treating her. Katrina Kaif’s character fell in love with the Pratap politicians – played by Ranbir Kapoor and Arjun Rampal – who preferred to work the wrong side of the system in Raajneeti (2010). Forget women, even film-maker and actor Farhan Akhtar admits a strange fascination with Don’s character, leading him to remake the old classic. There is a natural instinct in women – as much as they like to nurture, they like to be protected. And who better to protect them than an unstoppable man who can rule a better part of the world?

Their Good Outweighs Their Bad?

Movies on real-life characters tend to tread on eggshells, portraying a primarily positive perspective of characters that have been perceived as heading down the wrong path. Guru (2007), for instance, portrayed the protagonist, Gurubhai (loosely based on Dhirubhai Ambani) in a very favourable light, in the role of an inspiring leader. Sarkar (2005), where Amitabh Bachchan plays a character assumed to be based on Bal Thakeray, creatively designed like The Godfather, showed him to be a man of steel and goodness parcelled with a lack of concern for human life.

They Win Our Sympathy

While Shiney Ahuja’s character in Gangster (2006) and Sanjay Dutt’s Raghu in Vaastav (1999), were all about the fallen man – looking desperately for love’s respite or salvation, Imran Khan’s Kabir in Kidnap (2008) saved face with his inner good guy winning over the bad. John Abraham touched a soft spot in his I’m-a-terrorist-but-a-good-guy in New York (2009). You may not be able to love these characters, but they do win your sympathy – and strangely that is a way into women’s hearts, sometimes.

They Need Rescuing

A step up from the sympathy vote is actually pulling them out of the quagmire. Abhay Deol has made it his prerogative to be the lack-lustre hero – think Dev D (2009) in particular – who’s always finding himself and losing his love. His women have to deal with his incapacities, and many love him despite it. Sanjay Dutt’s Ballu in Khalnayak (1993) immortalized the hero who loved, lost and died a pitiful love life.

They Have Converted from Lover to Lover Boy

You know this has to be about Salman Khan. He made every girl fall in love with Prem from Maine Pyar Kiya (1989) and then ran away from this good guy image, and embraced that of the playa. He played the field in every possible movie – even played the role of the playing-the-field-mentor in No Entry (2005), and carried a successful bunch of romantic comedies on merely his inability to remain faithful.

And so it goes that there’s nothing like a wayward love interest to make life a bunch of prickly roses. And there’s probably a make-your-bed-and-lie-on-it pun there somewhere….


Tagged Bollywood Indian cinema Men

Rockin' Rockstar poster

Img_1839
(download)
Imtiaz Ali's upcoming movie, Rockstar, starring Ranbir Kapoor and Nargis Fakhri has some absolutely stunning artwork and sketches. Very reminscent of the angry young man bollywood posters of the 70s, but far superior. The artist is Grzegorz Domaradzki from Poland, and I can't wait to see what more he has in store. I wonder if Imtiaz Ali will think of marketing some of this beautiful artwork as a part of the promos? Like selling the posters - remember the time we used to find Salman, Aamir and Madhuri posters all over the place to be kept on walls?

PS: Font remind you of Def Leppard any one? It's not identical, but quite reminiscent.

Check out a great interview with the artist here: http://onesmallwindow.com/interviews/those-cool-rockstar-posters/

Some related links:

Grzegorz Domaradzki’s official website
Grzegorz’s Vector Movie Posters series.
Rockstar – Official Website

 

 

 

Tagged Bollywood Imtiaz Ali Indian cinema Rockstar
Tags
Contributors
Sites I Like