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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.
Goa: Red Earth and Pouring Rain
Goa, super famous for its beaches and laid-back life, is also home to one of the rainest monsoons this side of the country. Caught in its early showers, here is what Goa looks like when it rains: lush, green and not too beachy. Be prepared for chlorophyl overkill!
iManage iNDIA
Our democracy has given us the ability to make so many choices - a few decades ago, we chose to leave for better opportunities elsewhere, recently we choose to return because of plum prospects in India. But whenever we have to choose to be alert citizens, we choose the easy road - the road of oblivion, escapism and feigned ignorance. Even worse - something I am guilty of, too - cynicism and haplessness.
When an elderly man decides to fast, we tweet. When scams are exposed, we update our status in horror. When our status quo is breached we respond with anger, criticism even shock, but no solutions.
We, the urban intelligentsia, have found no way out, and have preferred to let the zoo animals that are our bureaucrats and politicians rule roost while we hatch eggs - shaking our intellectual manes over the evils at fine soirées.
We may #tweetforwickets in a strong show of national spirit, we may cry in emotional joy at national wins, but we make no move to change what's wrong.
It's true, the answers are often not with us, there needs to be a collective consciousness that decides to take no more sh*t. Everytime there is someone who inspires us, or something that appalls us, we make a stir, think about a rising, and then, in one collective motion, sit our asses right back into our plush la-z-boy recliners.
It's unfortunate that we have the option to leave, or the money to ignore the crap that goes on in our backyard, or the cynicism to empty every full glass - because the moment we run out of our options, we may be fasting like good man Anna Hazare for our future, as our men steal every morsel from our homes.
Gandhi fasted for independence, its a shame that 60+ years hence, a man has to fast merely to get a bill noticed in parliament. Elle Woods would be charmed. Tsunamis may be hitting the Pacific, but it is the wasteland of Indian inaction that requires attention.
The Unromance of Realism
With sexting and instant messaging, relationships have become just that – instant and ephemeral. Books and films have emulated these real-life changes with often not-so-interesting results. Has the romance in art – and relationships – died?
What defines society today is words and connections. What separates this generation from the ones before is the power of the spoken word. We think that technology is what has changed us, made us the people that move faster, think faster and behave fast. While that may be true in some part, what has empowered technology has been content – online jargon for words. Thoughts, bubbles, discussions, emoticons, replies, retorts, criticism, feedback, conversations, investigations, observations, retweets, status updates…the list goes on. This generation has increased communication by communicating less and with fewer words. It faces the task of dealing with information overload while constantly putting out more information. The oxymorons define the mindset of today – a generation that wants everything, wants everything super quick and instantly accessible, and doesn’t really have the time or the patience to sift, read, ponder. That is where texts, BlackBerry messages, tweets and status updates are the de facto means of communication. It is rare for anyone to pick up the phone and have a good old-fashioned chat, in the generation that prefers to stick to a far more impersonal, but rapid form of communication. It has it’s own personal vocabulary: insistent abbreviations – often indecipherable to the uninitiated – and instant communication. You find people with heads bent, eyes darting and fingers moving rapidly in practiced synchronisation: rarely able to maintain eye-contact for more than a couple of minutes, rarely can a conversation run it’s natural old-fashioned course without interruption, as we move into an era of distracted and continuous communication and therefore, erratic and easily dismissed short-lived relationships.Popular culture represents the dialogue and relationships of today: faster, more impatient and often meaningless. Younger film-makers have updated their scripts to emulate real life. While underworld films picked up the nuances of the underbelly through actions and dialogue, romance in the arts has been for the longest time linked to a larger-than-life drama. Case in point: the cinema of Karan Johar or Sooraj Barjaytya. Where they update the clothes and the music, the dialogue often remains over-dramatised and pedantic. While some may argue that romance needs the dramatisation, a striking example to contest the argument is that of Saathiya – where the dialogue is rapid, off-the-street and yet, is a powerful story. There is a strong resonation with the viewer, an easy relatibility, which carries the film from run-of-the-mill to sensitive and meaningful. Farhan Akhtar’s Dil Chahta Hai made the trend a popular one, taken up by film-makers like Kunal Kohli (Hum Tum) and Imtiaz Ali (Jab We Met and Love Aaj Kal).It is the language of frankspeak or straightspeak. Where once “You complete me” was the sigh-generating dictum, now, “I need a break” is easily said, without much angst, furor or thought. Quick answers, rapid and sometimes thoughtless decisions and a sense of bubbling impatience mark the dialogues that often don’t lead anywhere special. This is the nature of relationships of today and the conversations emulate them. Easily said, easy to bed and quick to leave – all takes place faster than a thought, and what is left are non-events. How does this make and fill the artistic and aesthetic space of a film? While Kohli-directed Hum Tum talks about a meandering relationship, When-Harry-Met-Sally-style, he pumps the story with events – which hold the weight of the relationship between the protagonists that appears to be going nowhere. In an attempt to emulate real life and their easy-come-easy-go relationships, Kohli’s recent production Break Ke Baad, directed by Danish Aslam, is a slick film that lacks a meaty story, full of 'non-happenings'. Conversations, while witty and fresh, would make a better radio play than a long commercial movie. While this may be a comment on relationships today, the art demands a certain balance between real life and cinematic license – it demands that elements, moments and events become at the very least marginally larger than life, to create entertainment, to be watchable. Ali’s Love Aaj Kal nearly crossed the line to become over-ripe with conversations, in the same quest to describe modern-day relationships. Where LAK teetered dangerously, Jab We Met remained fresh in it’s cinematic experience, particularly through the crispness of dialogue and emotion.Deepika Padukone’s character, Aaliya, in Break Ke Baad is not lovable in the traditional sense – much like Sonam Kapoor’s Aisha, she is unintentionally selfish and possibly doesn’t deserve the good guy. The industry buzz has it that Zoya Akhtar’s debut film Luck By Chance missed it’s calling because the protagonist, Vikram, was not a nice guy. We don’t feel empathy for the characters and don’t wish them to reach a happy ending. And that is dangerous ground for a film to enter in the romance genre. And it is also rather disturbing seeing that these characters have been picked from real life. Is it true, then, that we prefer the traditional romantic notion of characters that may be slightly misguided, but are nice? Even if that is not real life? So as dialogues get updated, people shouldn’t?Two recent books speak a local language, but in entirely different ways. Anuja Chauhan’s Battle For Bittora speaks real politik – the language of local and honest-to-good (sense the irony) politics, seen through the eyes of a girl of this generation. There is amusement, cynicism and wonder. While the romance remains honest to chick lit, and the dialogues are basic, matter-of-fact and emulating real life, it is the clever writing and story that lifts this novel from being mundane to a page-turner. Where Chauhan’s effortless writing excites, first-time writer, Rhea Saran’s Girl Plus One is trying too hard, as are her heroines, to become a desi Sex and the City. Saran is not wrong in suggesting, rather obviously, the fact that Indian girls today are openly emulating Manhattan’s popular TV series; however, Saran misses Candace Bushnell’s witticisms that make all the difference between real life and drama. Would a real-life Carrie really talk in continuous innuendoes? No. She simply finds a corelation between her column and her life.However art is updated to make it believable and real, it is obvious that the artistic license must be used to lift the dullness of real life to a heightened sense of real-life drama. In creating a believable sense of inclusion in a person’s daily, often mundane life, while bringing art into our homes, drawing rooms and bedrooms, we need to maintain a certain distance that allows us to appreciate the nuances of every character, story and relationship. These elements need to interesting and memorable, and often, real life is not. That doesn’t mean we need to regress and run around trees dancing amid roses, but it does mean that we need to assess the dramatic intent of the medium: does the film justify being larger-than-life? Does the book deserve to be printed and propped up on the ‘New Arrivals’ bookshelf rather than be a basic online blog? All in all, while pointing out the casual and matter-of-fact manner of everyday relationships, are we missing the romance in the written word and the spoken dialogue? And are we losing the romance in relationships?And that leads me to question - do we want the old-fashioned nature of romance, or does that not matter to us anymore? Does a quick sext or a couriered designer bag charm us more than an old-fashioned hand-written note with a love song? Are we so accustomed to sentimentalising love and romance that we are unable to accept it in it's matter-of-fact form anymore? If the written word stands for the way we think, then are we changing so dramatically that we question and often thwart sentimentality in its old-fashioned sense? Do we love, or do we 'like'? Or are we confused because it is 'too complicated'?There is no "I" in Teamwork...
It's an observation I picked up from Twitter - that teamwork doesn't have an "i". And while that's simple to understand, it means the making or breaking of a country. Sounds monumental? It is. Let's start with what triggered this thought. Actor Imran Khan's column in HT today (see excerpt below) on teamwork in movies and my catching Raajneeti on TV last night.
Imran Khan talks about how movies are made by teams, even if they are temporary, they are loyal:"I wanted to talk about how we all come together for a few months, work till we fall down from exhaustion and then go our separate ways. You see, most people never realise just how much teamwork plays a part in what we do. An actor could be giving the performance of a lifetime, but if the cameraman doesn’t capture it correctly, nobody will ever see it. Each and every shot depends upon each and every person from each and every department doing exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment. It’s stressful and demanding… but it also creates a kind of bond that few other things can. For example, as I sit and write this, there is a game of cricket underway. The actors, director, ADs and light boys are all taking turns batting and bowling, and there is no hierarchy. Or, when we’ve been shooting for hours and it’s past lunch time, no one complains, because we’re all in it together. Nobody starts eating until everyone has broken for lunch.The fate of a film can never be predicted; it may do well, it may disappear without a trace. I’ve seen both happen. But that can’t change the way we approach our work. We still have to give it everything we have, and we still have to come together and work as a team. And that’s reflected in the term for an entire cast and crew of a film; it’s called a unit." (Full column here.)
On the other hand, there is politics, where there are teams and more teams and even more teams that spend their time bickering, playing games, manipulating and buying each other out. While some people thought Raajneeti was a bit extreme, I find it quite a relevant movie of the time - where politics today is not what the Greeks intended it to be when they coined the term.
Ref: Wikipedia: "Politics (from Greek πολιτικος, [politikós]: «citizen», «civilian»), is a process by which groups of people make collective decisions. The term is generally applied to behavior within civil governments, but politics has been observed in other group interactions, including corporate, academic, and religious institutions. It consists of 'social relations involving authority or power' and refers to the regulation of a political unit, and to the methods and tactics used to formulate and apply policy."
What is the problem with our country, or many other countries today? Is it really what we learnt in civics and political science and sociology, the things we rattle off, the terms that NRIs sit back in their la-z-boys and shake their heads over while munching betel nuts? Corruption, over-population, illiteracy...these are the buzz words. Yes, these problem exist, and yes, there are important issues that need to be solved for our country to move forward. But is this the real problem at the very foundation of our issues? I think not, I think it is a genuine lack of team spirit. We don't think like one nation, one people. Whether it is because of religion, caste, money, social structure or an age-old belief in hierarchy...or even just survival of the fittest (because we've had to survive to make it here - fight to get anywhere), it has made us individualistic. At the very most, we may include our family in our concerns, but that is also getting few and far between and we find ourselves largely driven by selfish concerns. Some of our wealthiest people do not contribute to charity, rather build towering monuments to denote their status. Recently, while visiting the Jai Vakeel school for the mentally challenged, I learned that the government hasn't paid salaries there in four months. So even when something good is being done, they can't simply cough up the change to keep it going, but they can pocket the change from CWG and other big projects. While lining one's pockets, can't one at the very least ensure that some good comes of some of the tax payers' money?
Another quote popularised on Twitter, "Indians are privately smart and publicly dumb" - is exactly the same thing, we don't believe in treating our country like our own. The streets are not ours, we can trash them. The public loos are not in our house, we can leave them filthy. The movie theatre isn't our own, we can mess it up with food and drink. Publicly, we notoriously behave like pigs in a pigsty, and yet, we follow stringent hygiene and cleaning rules in our homes - remove your shoes before coming in, they will track germs from the outside in! Is it that we believe that someone else will take care of our mess? Is it simply because we don't care enough about anyone else that it doesn't matter?
The reason we admire sports so much is that as humans we crave bonding and togetherness - and there are very few places that show mutual respect and warmth for other humans than in teams that come together for a common cause. I admire the film industry - despite their bickering and issues and camps, a group of people come together and work hard to make a film - even if they never see each other again once it's complete, they gave it their unselfish best when required. In fact, the movie Chak De is a metaphor for Indian society - we are too mentally segregated to think like one, and when we do, we can possibly reach heights we have never considered possible.
Why can't we as social citizens do that? Why must we treat other people as "others" and not a part of our own team, own country, own race? Why can't we think like "we" rather than "I"? If we were to, everything would be very different. A simple shift in perspective would make a huge difference in thought and a huge difference in where we are as a race or nation.
Short-sightedness - where we can't see beyond our own noses and houses, is what makes us an ultimately selfish race. And this is the root of the trouble - global warming, social evils, unhappiness all boils down to being able to think as a bigger identity than oneself. Can we be bigger than we think we want to be?
The Ritual of Being Ritualistic
Something very cool happened this year, possibly the only cool thing about religious events. On Sept 11, 2010, Ganesh Utsav, the Jain festival and Eid all fell on the same day. Of course there was mayhem in the city in terms of noise, traffic and chaos, and there were enough nostalgic elements in the city that found it "so lovely" that bright celebrations were sparking all over. However, the point is that special days can be one and the same, they can be celebrated differently, but we lay too much importance on the rituals surrounding the festivals rather than the point of the festival. Fasting, doing 'darshan', breaking the fasts, wishing people, it keeps people busy and makes them feel good about being busy in the religious way, but it really leads them nowhere. What changes from one month, one week or one day to the next?
Here are two examples of ritualistic followings which I know from close observation. All the other followings, world-over, are equally ritualistic in their own way and all boil down to the same conclusion.Ganesh ChaturthiYou bring a Ganpati murti (idol) home, most often decorated in toxic colours and invite people over to take blessings, leave money behind that gets distributed amongst undeserving priests or among street children who use it for drugs and alcohol, immerse the idol in the already toxic water after a lot of banging and singing on the street, creating massive amounts of noise pollution that will probably even deafen the Gods.
- The soft muted music that was to bring one closer to the divine in terms of shlokas and words with meaning, have been replaced by loud DJ-driven music that play the latest techno and raucous bollywood hits, where youngsters get together and dance inebriated on the streets, blocking traffic and hassling all the people in the neighborhood.
- There are neighborhood collections of donations - not for improving society, but to provide funds for the DJ, alcohol, trucks and idol-trappings.
- The colours, paint and glitter used on the idols is killing our marine life, and even though it is on an idol of worship, it doesn't miraculously save our marine life and water. It enters our eco system and poisons us.
- During these house visits to take blessings - it becomes a means for social gathering, where people attempt to be on their best behavior, but people being people end up discussing the most inane things in front of their revered idol. Such as gossip about other people and needling those with opinions.
- While the idol is at home, one must abstain from non-veg food, alcohol etc in its vicinity. There are those so addicted to these items that they can't wait for the idol to leave and be immersed, so that they can go back to their daily drink.
- We use offerings to the idol as a means of eating anything - sweets are offered to the idol (apparently rich sweetmeats please the Gods - wasn't that just a ruse for priests to make away with these sweetmeats?) and that becomes 'prasad' - blessed by the Gods and that can be and should be consumed by people generously.
- In the homes, as there is increasing staff problems during this festival (most of the staff leaves to go to their home town to celebrate), war breaks out at home because these sweetmeats MUST be made at all costs to ensure that the right offering is done.
- Most of the staff, who struggle to make ends meet, borrow money to buy expensive idols and celebrate this festival as a means to please the Gods. They have yet, in all these years, not got any form of deliverance; but the quest continues. They will leave a cushy job that doesn't allow them to take full leave during Ganesh Chaturthi, even if it leaves them jobless and in debt.
While the sentiment and faith is indeed strong and full of conviction, to what end is this being done? Are they leading a better life (not materialistically, but morally)? Does it tell them that there is a way to the divine, and it should be followed with a desire to do good, less harm and a genuine improvement of the soul? Or is it merely a way to party in the name of religion?
Jainism is a way of life - a strict means to leading an austere and controlled existence, which is supposed to be devoid of unnecessary trappings of religious rituals. The result of the influence of Hinduism into the sects of Jainism and the growth of the Jains as a moneyed class of people, has lead to a strong dilution of the original principles and made it chance for Jains to carry a 'holier-than-thou' attitude. In this week, called Paryushan, Jains practice abstinence - from certain foods and if possible, fast as well. It is a means to build the will power of the mind and to control the body's urges towards baser instincts by solidifying the mind's role in the decision-making. While in concept it works, it has led to many people doing this half-heartedly, because they have been cajoled into doing so by family. There is no desire to withhold for a greater purpose of mental peace, rather do it to prove to the other that they weren't 'bad'. There is no whole-heartedness in this desire. While Jains believe in stringent non-violence, they follow the principles according to their convenience: don't eat garlic, potatoes and onions (because as underground roots they contain more living organisms than those growing above the surface), but appear to be unconcerned by silk and leather goods, where one silk sari kills multiple silk worms. During their festival, it becomes mandatory for others to visit those who have fasted, making it a mad rush on the one morning from one 'parna' to another. These parnas where the fastee breaks his/her fast with some very simple food, becomes taxing to the household as they need to take care of the fastee and provide for food for the visitors. In certain families there appears to be a display of wealth in the lines of a wedding ceremony, with jewelry and clothes et al. Austerity and control over material desires anyone? During the week, as the fasts continue, the evenings are given up to religious discourses, where you listen to a priest talk about why these things are important, being a better person and leading a better life. Maybe the hunger deadens the brain cells, but the people who attend these discourses, look absorbed by the ideas and often find themselves in meaningless material pursuits a few days later - the kind that involve fighting over money within the family. The week over, people wish each other 'Micchami Dukkadam' which means if I have hurt you in any way in the past, please forgive me. This universal 'Sorry' makes everything okay and allows people - a nice 'get out of jail free' card - to go back to their ways until the next year's apology. And the week over, people rush out in hordes to every restaurant and eat to their heart's content. Abstinence, abstinence. Every religion and festival leads to the same thing: leading a better, more moral life and being a good person. At the end of the day, all the rituals do is misguide us into thinking we are becoming better merely by performing them, but until we change from the inside out, we remain shallow and hollow and fake. These are just external trappings that do not fix attitudes and mind-sets, rather give people excuses to be whoever they like, whilst making it okay by performing these rituals. The ritualization of religion - the strongest example being Hinduism and all its varied sects and facets, has mired people into believing that rituals will take one towards a better life, towards deliverance. Rituals are like drugs - they have a feel-good factor associated with them, which make you think you're feeling good, but actually lead you deeper into the mire of a material world from which you can't escape. The more you do it, the more you are afraid of what life will become when you stop doing it. The more you do it, the more your mind gets weakened, gripping the rituals as a means to a better end, not being able to do without.If we snapped out of the weakness of relying on rituals to make us feel like better people or to prove to the world that we are better people, and actually became better people - through our actions, inactions, thoughts, words, beliefs and societal and civic duties, we wouldn't need religious rituals, just a simple philosophy on leading a better life. And life would become better - for everyone around. Rituals don't fix the crime problem or over population, or poverty or illiteracy or unemployment or environmental degeneration or terrorism….rituals simply add to the list of mankind's problems. If we are more humane and less ritualistic material beings, these problems would start solving themselves. That would please God a lot more than our worldly offerings.
Killing me softly with my own smog | Jaagore
Guest Post by Sitanshi Talati-Parikh, Features Editor, Verve Magazine
The problem with writing about issues is the fatalism that creeps in and tends to swallow you whole, where you want to scream to the world to wake up – before it’s too late, but you get the sense that they are simply not getting it. And makes you want to sink into a mire of desperation and helplessness. *Shudder*.
So, the idea is to calmly embrace the fact that the world as we know it, will really not last very long. I have a distant uncle who is geared into amassing family wealth for the next seven generations – and while I am truly proud of this generous gesture towards his family’s well-being, I feel that he is just a bit deluded. At the rate we are going – denuding the earth’s natural resources without a thought towards replenishment, ransacking and pillaging and foraging like barbarians, without once questioning what it implies for tomorrow, there will be no tomorrow. And I don’t mean like, oops I’m going to wake up and June 1, 2010 will no longer exist, but really, June 2, 2020 might not!
Do we really have as many years as we think we do on this planet? As we plan the next generation of pillagers, do we really believe they will make it through another 80 years of living in toxic hell? If the planet doesn’t implode on our own sins, we will definitely self-destruct in some way or the other.
1. We have waste disposal problems.
2. We have severe water shortage issues.
3. The air we breathe is so polluted that there’s no point smoking – you’re inhaling crap anyway.
4. We are rapidly consuming all limited natural resources without really figuring out alternate sources of energy, power etc.
5. Global warming is bringing in volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, earthquakes, tremours and a lot of other stuff that should shake us in our heads, not our houses.
6. There is severe overcrowding and over population, which is merely compounding the crises mentioned in 1-4.
Specifically talking about Mumbai, do we realise that as the incorrigibly corrupt government and municipal corporations allow illegal construction of sky-rises in already sandwiched areas, it’s not just the pressure on the land, it is also the impossible question of the pressure on infrastructure? Our infrastructure is quite simply redundant – there are old pipes, rusted and cracking under the pressure, drinking water getting mixed up with sewage and refuse, there is already insane amounts of fuel, water and power shortage; and with the advent of that many more homes, families, people and cars, the problems on the surface and below will only compound. So as spanking new buildings start popping up left, right and centre, who plans to deal with the repercussions of these short-sighted activities? Forget problems like soil erosion, pollution and cloud cover thinning that you can’t comprehend, but think of the really basic stuff. Say you spend multiple arms and legs buying a flat in a nice Sobo area, in a brand new building, with a great view. What are you going to do when the pipes burst with the pressure and you get filthy water to drink and bathe with in your new luxurious haven? What are you going to do when the already choked area doesn’t allow for you to take your brand new gas-guzzler out because there’s a perennial jam of cars being taken out for unnecessary spins?
The problem is that we think that it’s not our problem yet. It’s not relevant now. It’s not about me. As long as we continue with the current status quo, living in mass oblivion, we are barely able to grasp – despite Hollywood’s barrage of disaster ‘2012’ flicks – that everything is very real, everything is NOW. Tomorrow is not just another day in the grimy city; tomorrow may be a day where we no longer exist. And it would be entirely our fault. No amount of words can make you sit up and take action – until you realise that it’s your and your family’s life at stake, not your neighbour’s.
Baz Luhrmann: Amplifying Emotion
Published: Verve Magazine, International Edge, March 2010
Photographs: Aparna Jayakumar
Award-winning Australian director of films Moulin Rouge!, Romeo + Juliet and Australia, Baz Luhrmann arrived in India expecting a “creative adventure”. In the midst of dipping his fingers into paint, warding off curious eyes, responding to over-enthusiastic banter and driving a bike through Rajasthan taking photos, Sitanshi Talati-Parikh gets an insight into his artistic mantra
It is a creative visionary’s brush that picks up on the nuances of life, emotions and true-to-life characters with a flourish to create the ‘big’ film – full of flavour, drama, vibrant colours and melody – whether it is the garish realism of Romeo + Juliet (1996), the Parisian kitsch of Moulin Rouge! (2001), or the ochre-hued drama of Australia (2008). “It is amplification. You take realistic human emotions, realities or problems but you use an expressionistic canvas.” And this is what led to what is popularly known as Luhrmann’s Red Curtain Trilogy (Strictly Ballroom (1992), Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge!) – the concept of an “overtly theatrical musical work”.
Australia announced a departure from Sydney-born Luhrmann’s previous musical format and moved towards a more sweeping epic form. “There is no way that Australia is of the then-current naturalistic vernacular. It is heightened, much like Gone With The Wind is heightened. Instead of music, I tried using landscape to amplify emotion. It is operatic in that sense. Naturalism is like looking through a keyhole and you are apparently looking at reality; but this form is where words fail us – sometimes we just can’t express in words what it is like to truly be exalted or truly be in love or truly lose your child over a cliff.” Instantly, in the mind’s eye appears the stunning visual of the herd of cattle racing towards the brink of a cliff pounding a dust storm. “What may seem to us to be a small event, to a person in the village, it is operatic at that point of time. ‘You-can’t-marry-that-boy-moment’ internally feels like Tosca. As an artist you want to use devices to help the audience empathise. And that doesn’t mean just reproducing the way it apparently is. I try not to show the way things are, rather the way things would have felt for the character.”The once-aspiring actor has often given credit to Hindi cinema for influencing his cinema. “India has always been an extraordinary serum for my soul. Fifteen years ago – it is quite serendipitous – I made a production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1993) set in colonial India. I was really fascinated by the connection between the Elizabethan spiritual world and the Hindu spiritual world. The production is very distinctly making those visual translations in the time of the Raj – the lovers are all European Raj characters and the Hindu spiritual world plays with them.” It went on to be a hugely successful show, winning the Critic’s Prize at the Edinburgh Festival. He recalls the defining moment being his visit to India at the time, with his award-winning production-designer wife, Catherine Martin, where in Rajasthan, they saw their very first Bollywood movie. Unable to remember the title or the cast – except that it was about two brothers going to Oxford University, and fighting over the same girl – Luhrmann found it remarkable that there was, “intense tragedy, next to very broad comedy and then a burst of song. Two thousand people were spellbound, including us who couldn’t speak the language, for three hours. What we got out of that was the value of exaltation. In that sense Bollywood films are Shakespearean. Different people can have different experiences at different levels. That sensibility became the Red Curtain Trilogy and has stayed with me ever since.”
Political Balance Sheets and Media Glory
When we consider how ineffectual our political system and our elected representatives are, we often wonder what we can do to make them accountable or care. Obviously, seeing the recent barrage of films and reportage, we believe that the media is responsible to a very large extent in the lack of accountability. In much the manner that in a democratic set-up we elect representatives, we also 'elect' our media to play an important role in defining our thoughts, opinions and in ensuring that we remain protected and taken care of at all times. The easiest way for the media to do this is through responsible journalism - by not distorting the news, not grabbing eyeballs just for TRPs, not sensationalising but simply stating facts and pointing out areas that have gone awry. So, very simply, if the political dailies were to - every week or fortnight or month - run an impartial page on a political 'balance sheet' - a report on what promises were made at the time of contesting an election, and what the current standing is for all our elected reps., where the problems have occured and what is expected now.... This can't be an occasional expose that happens in India Today or TOI etc, but rather, a regular accountability system that keeps the people abreast and the reps on their toes. So, you can't fake it, you gotta do it and then find yourself written about and held accountable. This would keep the political media busy enough that they don't need to create drama and fanfare over trivial issues, and political debates that lead nowhere, but rather an administrative system of checks that we can refer to at the time of elections.
MasterChef On My Plate
Verve Magazine, Social Chronicle, December 2011
http://www.verveonline.com/103/life/social-chronicle.shtml
(Illustration by Farzana Cooper)
If you are the latest in the line if PYTs to send your hubby a tiffin that contains pan-seared foi gras with a champagne berry jus, then you know you’ve arrived onto a culinary scene that’s flush with promise and ready to launch. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh describes the necessity of taking a kitchen rendezvous to the next step
‘Do you cook?’ She whispered. ‘Of course not!’ I retorted scornfully. Great parties are never about knowing what to cook; they are all about finding the right caterer. Gloved hands, butler coats, flitting in and out: the spanking German-designed modular kitchen is meant to be seen, not used. Must you fret whether pesto has pine nuts or pistachios? I’m quite certain it’s the latter, logically, isn’t pesto the green one?
Lately though, newbie home-makers carry recipes in their Ferragamo totes, and while sneezing up a bomb at the local Nature’s Basket, can easily tell one nut from another. Blame it on the latest reality TV craze: MasterChef Australia – far superior to its Indian franchise. As the country watches with bated breath which one of the accented Australians go down under and which ones make it to the top, the ladies are picking up a few tricks along the way, and the men are finding a new itch to scratch: the kind which involves a cutting board and a chef’s hat. After all, those men in chef whites skim over the fine line to count as men in uniform – and the way into a woman’s boudoir may well be through her stomach. Many a young man has now leaned over the bar and whispered suggestively into his lady love’s ear, ‘Your kitchen or mine?’Now, you can’t visit a friendly home without getting a sprig of parsley in your Brie, or a dose of balsamic vinaigrette in your chilled watermelon balls. Recipes are snitched from one of the mushrooming gourmet restaurants in the city – the toasted pine nut, goat cheese and watermelon salad is The Tasting Room, I believe – and every meal is judged on the outlandishly clever gourmet competency of the home-maker-turned-chef. Does your beetroot come laced with chevre? Has it been garnished just so? If not, it’s not good enough to be plated up? Play dates (for the uninitiated: the time like-minded infants spend getting to know each other) are also a fine chance to show off those pa(i)ring skills: preparing the finest meal for your child’s little friend – what could be a better sign of love? Ten-month-olds are developing a spectacular taste for the healthy good life – in the form of broccoli-and-spinach risotto garnished with fresh basil, a traditional (low-spice of course) massuman curry and zucchini-and-parmesan ravioli, washed down with a tall bottle of elaichi-flavoured formula milk. And it’s not just the chic young men and women flaunting their culinary skills, it’s about ensuring that you have a system in place to replicate this sensational food – anytime and with the least bother. And to that end, my Bihari cook is now struggling with understanding my desire to replace a Bombay grilled chutney sandwich on Britannia bread with a Mediterranean sandwich on multigrain herb focaccia. And not even adding his own home-made paneer? Instead, layering the green meat of a tasteless fruit that he imagines to be Bengali baingan together with hefty hunks of feta, grilled zucchini and eggplant licked with a killer harrissa paste! He grudgingly grasps that the need of the hour – and the possibility of survival – means his knowing his parmigiana from his au gratin.Chefs are now finding themselves akin to moviestars: in a recent MasterChef India (Season 2) show, one of the contestants cried because she got to meet her idol Michelin-starred, New York-based, Indian chef Vikas Khanna, whom she then proceeded to serenade. With Indians and Sri Lankans making their token presence felt on international cooking shows stirring up a curry-and-flatbread once in a way, and with Michelin-starred chef Vineet Bhatia attempting to challenge the desi taste buds, it appears innovation is the call of the day. You can’t serve up chana-bhatura any more, but what you can do is throw in chickpea couscous, broccoli khichdi and bhatura-flavoured sorbet. Now that would be a meal worth writing home about. No longer is it about spices – it is about tempering taste buds with the appropriate levels of flavour so that they (your taste buds) can regain their virginity – and discard the massacre of years of generous masalas and chilli powder. And it isn’t really about eating – or stomaching to satisfy – as it is about teasing and cajoling the culinary senses into a pleased stupor. Hunger is for the middle-class. Palate-teasers are what fine dining is all about. It is no wonder that young chefs returning from Manhattan, dipping their fingers into genteel party catering, serve up hors d'oeuvres the size of peanuts. So smoked mozzarella flatbreads are actually coin pizzas, the size of, well, the shiny new 10-rupee coin. Tapas are in, or haven’t you heard? A meal in one of Mumbai’s trendy restaurants can consist of merely ordering 17 tapas and needing a hefty bottle of wine to wash all that tiny, tasty food down to feel deliciously full. Wine pairing can’t be missed of course. No self-respecting 30-something will serve anything less than the perfect limited-edition international sipper that goes best with the course being served. All along, the conversation tinkles with very profound discussions on Chinese politics, Rushdie’s literary smackdowns, and whether the Riesling would work better with the coconut soufflé or the champagne tart. My ultimate brain wave is to serve up a passion-fruit-and-lemongrass Sangria. It’s the easy way out of pretentious course-drinking – and is somehow that crass, bohemian sort of thing one can do, to remain cool after all that soul-searching food. Talking about soul-searching food, the gourmands believe in cooking from your heart, and with a dollop of love. How much can you cook from your heart, when your stomach is empty and how much love can emanate from that drop of extra virgin olive oil that you mayn’t get from your grandmother’s hand-churned ghee? The thrill lies in the pleasure-seeker and the social climber. After all, can you really be eating khana-khazana-type makhani food in your Jimmy Choos and Herve Leger? It is worth sharing Gouda and Roma tomato notes, if merely to prove that the world is your personal oyster and you have an international, exclusive and very uber chic stew cooking in your state-of-the-art kitchen. And after that dinner party full of whispered conversation, clinking flutes and a sense of social accomplishment, where the senses have been thrilled with that one lactose-free beetroot foam tortellini, you are more than likely to find yourself kicking back furtively with a hearty macaroni baked dish, folded with about 250 grams of Amul cheese, and a little kiss of ketchup.