Sunday ka Funda

Gulzar to receive the Dadasaheb Phalke award seems like a redundancy. The accolade will not change a thing, but it does draw attention to the fact that this poet-lyricist-scriptwriter-director is one of the more subtle minds to embellish the Indian film industry.

I have often uploaded his songs, and gone into sometimes long explanations. Of Tere bina zindagi se shikwa tau nahin.... Of Mera kuchch samaan padaa hai aapke paas

This time, let us just listen. This is not one of my favourite ones, but it captures a certain mood. A tribute to tears?

Fill the eyes
Empty sleep...

Pani pani re khaare paani re
Pani pani re khaare paani re
Nainon mein bhar jaaye
Neendein khaali kar jaaye

The Pontiff's Closet

What do you think about Pope Francis being chosen Best Dressed Man of 2013 by Esquire? When the magazine says, "Pope Francis's sartorial decisions have subtly signaled a new era (and for many, renewed hope) for the Catholic Church", it is jumping the gun. As religious head, he has certainly proven to be immensely likeable. He is discussed for his symbolic gestures, and they might not alter perceptions but do send out signals about a modernistic way of looking at social mores.

However, I believe that a best dressed tag does not quite reward these gestures, much less comprehend the nuances that might get lost and possibly lose track of what is being symbolised.

Mark-Evan Blackman, assistant professor of menswear design at FIT, has been quoted as saying:

"His mode of dressing really does reflect the mindset behind it. I remember when John Paul II was buried in those opulent bright red shoes. When the current pope was elected and chose not to wear the red shoes I thought that was very reflective of his approach to being a person functioning in a role."

Every position comes with a set role, and the only dissonance possible is in terms of interpretation. That does not alter the inherent nature of the role. For true believers, the red shoes were not an impediment to their faith, just as the discarding of them will not be.

Ann Pellegrini, Associate Professor of Performance Studies & Religious Studies at New York University, goes over-the-top:

"The humility of his garments offers a way to visibly display his theological and material concerns for the poor. This Holy Roman emperor really does have new clothes."

While it is true that the Pope has been "approachable" and "humble" — though such a station is supposed to be about humility and subservience to god, is it not? — a reality check is needed here.

I am not a Catholic, or a practising believer in any organised faith system, but being surrounded by several streams of theological thought it is obvious to me that devotees, especially those unfortunate enough to be poor and homeless, do look up to pomp and splendour. It is their means of escapism. And, dare I say, hope.

Unlike the well-heeled and the educated, they do not marvel at church spires and stained glass windows, nor do they appreciate the fine filigree work of the Islamic architecture in mosques, nor the fine motifs in Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist temples. But, the sheen of the altar, the sanctum, the idols does affect them. The brighter these are, the more dewy-eyed they get. This is not about materialism, but to experience what they do not possess. It is an egalitarian moment for them, for it renews their faith due to its obviousness. They seek no evidence of the power of an aura beyond what is evident, even as some of us might rationalise.

In fact, Esquire is doing just that. Yet, quite ironically, it is performing papal sort of duties by anointing the Pope with a grand gesture that contradicts the purported purpose of rewarding him: austerity.

© Farzana Versey

India's 'comfort zone' is not the Oscars

Ang Lee receives his award with a namaste

As is the tradition, I did not sit through the Academy Awards or even catch glimpses of it.  Except for Life of Pi, I have not watched any of the other films, yet. I’d like to, though. This is not about disdain or being highbrow; I catch quite a few Indian soaps.

However, there is no escaping the event. The host Seth MacFarlane has come out with several new notorious feathers in his cap, and I say this because the Oscars may choose politically-correct films, but the show wallows in a sophomoric need for attention. It conforms to the pattern of being mainstream, and in Hollywood you are mainstream if you are a bit sexist, a bit racist, a bit of a victim-predator.

You’ve already read about the wardrobe malfunctions, the gowns, the jewels, the asinine.

It is the India factor that interests me.  As no Indian film or nominee got an award, we did what we do best. It was so very amusing that a little town in Chandigarh was celebrating, distributing sweets because of Zero Dark Thirty. It did not strike them as ironic that the place had recreated Abbottabad, a Pakistani bazaar to be precise, all to trace the end of an Arab who was the nemesis of the West. Osama bin Laden brought a good deal of business to this town in Chandigarh.

It is business.

The same goes for Puducherry (Pondicherry) where the initial portions of Life of Pi were shot. These were locales that Yann Martel had written about in the book on which the film was based. Indeed, the background sounds and a lullaby were Indian contributions, but was it an Indian film?

Director Shekhar Kapur declared in his usual pompous fashion: 

“An Indian film will win an Oscar when it is good enough. Danny Boyle and Ang Lee have opened the gates for Indian filmmakers. It’s up to the filmmakers now. Do they have the courage and the desire to conquer international markets or do they want to continue playing in their comfort zone?”

The Oscar is not the yardstick for good cinema, although it has sometimes recognised fine independent films by outsiders. What is Mr. Kapur’s yardstick for good? Surely, he has been exposed to Indian regional cinema, to quite a few offbeat Hindi films, as well as experimentation within the framework of Bollywood, of which he was a player.

How have Danny Boyle and Ang Lee opened the gates for Indian filmmakers? I think there should be a clear demarcation between the two. Ang Lee, while exploring spiritualism, did not overly emphasise on Indianness. The main characters happened to be Indian. But, it was an international film made with those sensibilities in mind. Fine, he accepted the award with the Indian greeting of 'namaste'.

Boyle was also catering to a foreign audience. As I wrote in an earlier post:

Danny bhai can rest happy that he did a nice helicopter version of struggle and hope. Next time he might like to hang on to one aspect and embellish it with some detailing. This is merely a filmic tourist brochure of the other side of India.

This obsession with international markets seems to demean indigenous work. Did the Africans start discussing about how ‘Our of Africa’ would make them big players? Did the Japanese consider themselves fortunate to have ‘Memoirs of a Geisha’ take their cinema overseas?

Satyajit Ray, Akira Kurosawa, Godard, Fellini, Costa Gavras have had more courage than a Shekhar Kapur and they did not seek out Hollywood acceptance, and the Oscars are just that. Everything else is a satellite.

As regards being happy in a comfort zone, it is rather superficial to ignore that most of the films that reached the Oscars were within their comfort zone. There happen to be differing levels of what varied cultures are comfortable with. The form of expression is bound to differ. We have films that deal with edgy subjects; some succeed, others don’t.  There is also some self-conscious attempt at ‘being different’ just for the heck of it, or to go to Cannes, which has sold out to Hollywood.

At least we do not choose White characters to portray Hispanic, Brown and even Black characters in our films.  

Bollywood is escapist. It has never claimed to be otherwise. And let us not look down on the audience or decide to improve their tastes. The same people who gave a thumbs-up to Dabangg were not as enthusiastic about the second one. Same actors, same gimmicks. They know what to like and what to reject. That is their comfort zone. 

(c) Farzana Versey

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More at What about Slumdog Millionaire?  

and a light take at An hour at the Oscars

An Hour at the Oscars

“Did you watch the TV?” asked my newly-exported friend from Ludhiana

“Yes, yes. Tanu weds Manu promos all over.”

“No, no, stop being so desi. We are world players.”

“I cannot watch the World Cup matches because Shane Warne is predicting everything before.”

“Don’t take that Aussie man’s name. He pataoed Liz and took away our woman.”

“Our woman?”

“She was married to tycoon Arun, no?”

“What tycoon? Anyway, what am I supposed to watch?”

“The Oscars!”

“It was telecast at 4 a.m India time and then 7.30 a.m…”

“If you can wake up early for that thing…you know what you like doing…your stupid writing…then this is international. You are so desi.”

“Right, but why are you so excited? I know who got the awards, so my general knowledge won’t suffer. Have you watched any of the films? What were your favourites?”

“Films? Who cares! There was one fellow who was like stuttering, then this woman who was doing some ballet-shallet, then some fighter, and even Facebook fellow was there. Hai, that was nice because all my relatives are on it, so we are all family.”

“If you have not watched any of the films, then what are you so enthusiastic about?”

“It is the whole atmosphere. The red carpet, the gowns, my, such lovely ones.”

“I saw this event on an entertainment channel and they went on and on about those stupid maxis, sorry gowns.”

“What is stupid, hain? Even Aishwariya Rai wore one and Mallika Sherawat wore one.”

“Oh, so they wore one each, that’s interesting. Did A. R. Rahman wear one too?”

“Don’t be mean. Bechara did not win this time, serves him right for leaving poor slumdogs, but he is so modest, he just kept smiling like a buddha.”

“You mean like the Buddha.”

“Oh, whatever. His wife they say was wearing Indo-Western fusion and carried a designer clutch.”

“I saw her wearing some thick dupatta. The western part may have been hidden.”

“What did you think of Ash and Mallika?”

“I did not notice what they wore. I was concentrating on their accents. Mallika spoke as though she was at a baseball match rooting for Rahman and Aishwariya said something about how nice it was to be ‘celebrating cinema like we do back home’. Very funny.”

“Chalo, this is global talk. You really must understand. I think Halle Berry’s nude was lovely.”

“I wish that was how she’d have been. She wore some ruffled stuff.”

“Ah, tell me more. I like to hear desi opinion on all this.”

“Sure. Even our media discusses it as though they were there and they are them, the same language, the same encomiums, the same kind of dissing. Heck, if the foreign press says it looked like table cloth, ours' modified it to table napkins. Original. Here, I have patience only for a couple of them. Penelope Cruz was in something shiny and looked a bit plump. And Cate Blanchett wore an atrocious dress with a yoke that looked like an upturned baby’s bib. Most were in red and most gowns looked either like some armour or like slips that needed something to be worn over them.”

“Wait baba, I must correct you. They have to show cleavage and their bodies. It is open society and even in India everyone is showing off.”

“True. I have no problem with revealing clothes, but they looked not quite complete.”

“This is high fashion, the best designers.”

“Is it about cinema or fashion? Why do these super actors have to announce which designer’s clothes they are wearing? If they have paid for them, then it is theirs.”

“Labels, darrrling, labels. You don’t understand.”

“I have seen some of the nighties on Linking Road and a few long kameezes at Crawford Market that don’t look much different.”

“This is desi mentality. It is the cut, the lines.”

“And the bulges. But why are we discussing this?”

“Okay, tell me about the speeches.”

“Speeches? Ooh-aah, I dunnowhattosaythisisjustsoaahsomepinchme…aah,sniff,owkhay, Imustthankgodthemazingteamthatmadeitpossible…ooh, Istillcan’tbelieveit…blah.”

“I am ashamed of you,” said my NRI friend. “As an Indian you should understand emotions.”

“Haan, butwhatemotionsarethereifyousoundlikeyouaresquirtingforthefirsttime?

“Whatttt arrr you saying?”

“Just being global.”

The Queen in Camel Town

Arab royalty looms behind and beside the Queen of England

Whoa! We hear about how the Queen of England honours people with the OBE and the Knighthood and other goodies. She is by far the most visible and prominent royal in the world; the British monarchy is.

Therefore, we were (sic) quite amused to read this news from Abu Dhabi:

Shaikh Khalifa conferred on Queen Elizabeth the Order of Zayed, the United Arab Emirates’ highest civil decoration. He also bestowed the Order of Federation to both Prince Andrew, Duke of York, and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.

It must be noted that the grand monarch of Great Britain got a civilian award. And no one is arching eyebrows?

Padma's Lakshmi and Sant Chatwal

The nation’s highest civilian honours are announced on Republic Day, and as always there is cause for heartburn for those left out and amusement to onlookers.

10 per cent have been hogged by outsiders – yeah, expats. We’ll get to them in a minute.

Here are the awards:

• Padma Vibhushan: “exceptional and distinguished service’’
• Padma Bhushan: “distinguished service of high order’’
• Padma Shri: “distinguished service in any field’’

What is Farid Zakaria’s achievement when compared to the years of work by artists Akbar Padamsee or Ram Kumar (they have all got the Padma Bhushan)? Is it important to choose someone from particular fields? Think about how Sitara Devi was constantly sidelined and refused to accept an award not in keeping with her stature. I’d say all this does not matter, but these are public figures who have contributed a lot to their field, at times exceptionally so.

In a nation that prides itself on being on the go we could not find a worthy candidate who could be a jewel, a Bharat Ratna? That should make us ashamed and stop bragging.

It is not surprising that the Nobel, Magsaysay and Oscar winning guys will take away the Padmas too; they have to because India needs to prove that we also celebrate what they do.

This brings us to the most controversial award-winner this year – US-based hotelier Sant Chatwal. He gets the Padma Bhushan in the field of public affairs. As far as we know running hotels is indeed a public service, but that isn’t what the committee thought about. He has been a fund-raiser for the Democrats, primarily the Clintons. Hillary Clinton is Secretary of State. Let us not forget for a moment that political considerations always work.

You perform a surgery on a bigwig, you interview him, you clean his cupboards but do not wash his dirty linen and you have it made.

I think Sant Chatwal deserves it. He is the successful face of our country we’d like to show; he is from a minority community, he pushes the royal Indian version when his son gets married and makes us look like a land of elephants, which we indeed are. It is really bridging the gap between the traditional and the modern that is so important to us, although we have no idea about what really traditional means and what modern means. For us, tradition is ritualistic and modernity is of course westernisation.

There is no need to be surprised. Why is everyone mentioning the cases of fraud against him now? As though the awards committee does not know. He is our man in the US, and we need our men in the US. Sant Chatwal has been offered a lollipop to keep him happy; his happiness will spill over and fill the coffers of that huntress Hillary and we might get a little pat on the back for being tough on terrorism.

As on every such occasion, we were warned about attacks. The security agencies were also examining the tunnel on the border. This tunnel must have been a real quickie. Anyhow, I hope our guys were more prominent in the Padma lists; their getting awards for bravery is different.

Former CBI chief D R Karthikeyan, who headed the SIT which probed the Rajiv assassination case, has also been selected for the Padma Shri award. Now? Time to wake up.

I think there should be bidding for these awards. Really.

End Note

Can someone please tell me since when has Mile Sur Mera Tumhara become “The song of India”? It is about India, about promoting its “multi-culti”, in Naipaul’s words, but who decides on something being the song of a nation? And if it is, then why has it been revamped to look like a cross between a Bachchan-infused Mani Ratnam film and an ad for Lux soap?

Was it bad for you?

What exactly is bad sex writing? Is it having bad sex while writing? Or is it bad to write about sex…cluck, cluck? Of course, all of you know about the Literary Review’s Bad Sex in Fiction Award. Many really good writers have ‘won’ it. No one has ever thought about giving a good sex in fiction award, it must therefore follow that it’s all just bad. The worse and the worst do not count. Just bad is good enough.

Auberon Waugh, the English writer, must have been reading something on a grey dry day, which is really about unrealised possibilities in case you have missed the metaphor, and decided to set up this award. I believe it was to “draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it”.

Those who are subtle would not really indulge in such careless passages, and if they do then perhaps they genuinely mean to be crude, tasteless and perfunctory. The modern novel, as opposed to classics (or is it conservative?), does use sexual descriptions. It might be redundant to certain readers and the only thing worth reading to others.

As a teenager my female friends would be given books by the boys that had specifically marked out portions of writing from the point of view of hormones. It worked as a learning experience as well as succeeded in conveying the intent of the one rewarding them with these precious jewels.

I say 'them' because I did not read those books, and when on occasion I was asked to “at least try” I took it up with the assiduousness of an experiment, looking for syntax where I ought to have been examining the possibilities of sin.

This year’s shortlist includes Philip Roth for something he has written in his latest book The Humbling – “the story of the seduction of a ‘full breasted’ lesbian by an ageing stage actor. The novel includes a threesome scene and has several references to a green-coloured sex toy”.

I am a bit perturbed by this. It suggests that lesbians may not be full-breasted and if they are their seduction is wont to take place only by ageing stage actors. Has the threesome scene been written from the point of view of one individual or all three? Would Roth manage a balanced perspective giving three sides of the sex coin, the third being upright and poised to roll?


Use of sex toys is fairly common among the living, so I assume characters in fiction might emulate real people. I am confused about the green colour, though. Is Al Gore still at it? Green is also associated with Martians, which again expresses that it could be an out-of-world experience. All good. However, since men are supposed to be from Mars, then political correctness would unfold its wrath on Roth for assuming that women cannot really enjoy such blissful moments on their own. Green is also the colour of nature, at least when it is not autumn in some parts of the world. To refer to nature and toy in the same breath is to take the breath out of nature.

The passage, however, does not have those twists and turns:

“There was something primitive about it now, this woman-on-woman violence, as though in the room filled with shadows, Pegeen were a magical composite of shaman, acrobat, and animal. It was as if she were wearing a mask on her genitals, a weird totem mask, that made her into what she was not and was not supposed to be.”

Paul Theroux’s attempt in A Dead Hand has also been nominated:

“Her hands were all over me, four hands it seemed, or more than four, and as she touched she made me weightless, lifting me off the table in a prolonged ritual of levitation.”

What does all this convey? I know it isn’t quite easy to write about how characters one has created would behave in bed. But authors do base personalities on people they know or read about. And they do have the power of imagination.


Now, what happens to the much-touted Kama Sutra, the ancient Indian manual on sex? It was written by the celibate sage Vatsyayana. It is considered a path-breaking work, and I suspect it has to do with it being an old text and less due to its inherent practical merits. Take this passage:

When a woman, having placed one of her feet on the foot of her lover, and the other on one of his thighs, passes one of her arms round his back, and the other on his shoulders, makes slightly the sounds of singing and cooing, and wishes, as it were, to climb up him in order to have a kiss, it is called an embrace like the 'climbing of a tree'.

Why would a woman stand on a man’s foot and place the other one on his thighs? Were all women way shorter than the men? And why must she sing and coo all to get a little hug?

Don’t ask questions. Visit any bookstore and this volume is around. Everyone has heard about this book.

The point is: Do readers give a damn? As Roth himself had once said, “When you publish a book, it's the world's book. The world edits it.”

Therefore, it depends on us. The bad sex is in our heads.

Manna Dey gets an award or a token?

Why does everyone feel so humble? Is this a sign of true greatness always? If I were Manna Dey, I’d either sit quietly with a glass of honeyed water and keep doing my riyaz, as he indeed does, or tell those blokes who decide on giving national awards to go stuff it.

A man has sung over 3000 songs, is over 90 years old and some politicians and bureaucrats decide they need to give him something he can die peacefully with? What nonsense. This has been happening for years and these awards have become just a plaything for some people. Who knows? Some babu must have been sitting with his cheap rum at a sidey club and heard the strains of some Mannada song, maybe “Ai meri zohra jabeen” and his wife blushed thinking he looked so happy and hummed along for her, this tubby hubby of hers who spends time pushing files away from his desk and looking for every opportunity to show his power.

So, she is smiling and saying, “O ji, such a lhuuvly song. Reminds me of old days…” even if those old days were as exciting as parathas on the tawaa. Husband realises in his slightly tipsy state that there is this singer and he should propose his name for the Dadasaheb Phalke Award. And they all gather and say, “Haan ji…”

These are mostly such haan ji moments.

To say that Manna De deserved it would be reducing him.

I cannot say I like everything he sang and I find that number from Zanjeer, "Yaari hai imaan mera, yaar meri zindagi" execrable. I also do not like his rendition of "Pyaar hua, iqraar hua, pyaar se phir kyon darta hai dil”. This is an out and out Shanker-Jaikishen triumph.

His range was in the songs, not the voice (the exception being "Eik chatur naar" from Padosan). And I say was because of his old songs. "Poochcho na kaise maine raen bitayee" and "Sur na saje kya gaaoon main" have very strong memories. They were sung at our house since I was a child, a state so pure that it recognises purity and ensures it retains.

I personally like this one because it is so quiet…like a pin in the haystack. It can still hurt. And make you ache…

Ye kooche ye neelaamghar - Manna Dey

Venky’s Chicken

He is obviously doing more than going through his emails. In today’s Times of India he has reacted to the reactions to his reaction about the woes of his inbox. He has apologised for “inadvertently” hurting people.

Venkatraman Ramakrishnan was quite candid as I mentioned in the earlier post. He talked about people bothering him. So, what is this?

I want to make it clear that I was delighted to hear from scientific colleagues and students whom I had met personally in India and elsewhere, as well as close friends with whom I had lost touch. Unlike real celebrities like movie stars, we scientists generally lead a quiet life, and are not psychologically equipped to handle publicity. So I found the barrage of emails from people whom I didn’t know or whom I only knew slightly almost 40 years ago (nearly all from India) difficult to deal with.

And he was psychologically savvy enough to hit out? Did he know the Nobel Committee? And did he not say he congratulated the person who called to inform him about the prize for his Swedish accent, assuming it was a crank call? So, if he can answer phone calls from strangers, he is going to get emails from strangers.

People have also taken offence at my comment about nationality being an accident of birth. However, they don’t seem to notice the first part of the sentence: We are all human beings.

I noticed the whole comment and reproduced it. Being human beings is an obvious fact and even those who go into space don’t cease being human beings. I wish he had the courage of his convictions and stood up for what he had said instead of this rubbish:

Accident or not, I remain grateful to all the dedicated teachers I had. Others have said I have disowned my roots. Since 2002, I have come almost every year to India. In these visits, I have spent time on institute campuses giving lectures or talking to colleagues and students, and stayed in the campus guest house. I have not spent my time staying in fancy hotels and going sightseeing.

Roots are not about giving lectures and staying at campuses. By going sightseeing you do not become less of an Indian. He is coming here on work in his professional capacity and has the audacity to talk about it as maintaining connections with his roots. He could have been going on lecture tours to Jalalabad, for all we care.

Finally, at a personal level, although I am westernized, many aspects of culture like a love for classical Indian music or South Indian or Gujarati food are simply a part of me.

So? I know westerners who love our cuisine and music and culture. What is he trying to prove? He has even given an interview about riding bicycles and all those wonderful memories. Why did he not think about them before shooting off his mouth about some professor making tall claims? Did these memories not seem important then?

Some of us had taken what he said in the right spirit, respecting his privacy and right to be not an Indian. He has, unfortunately, decided to do a 360 degree turn and come across as extremely patronising:

I am personally not that important. If I hadn’t existed, this work would still have been done. It is the work that is important, and that should be what excites people. Finally, there are many excellent scientists in India and elsewhere who will never win a Nobel. But their work is no less interesting and people should find out about what they do. My visits to India confirm that it has great potential and bright young students. A little less nationalistic hero worship will go a long way to fulfil that potential.

We know there is potential. While there are a few of us who do not believe in blind nationalistic worship, there are others who do so. That is why we have Gandhi and Nehru cults. How will less hero worship tap potential? He says he was excited about Gellman’s work and it did not matter what his nationality was. True. So, Indians also worship Michael Jackson and Angelina Jolie. What potential will they be fulfilling? And will anyone take him on about the “less nationalistic” advice? No. Because we are idiots. We will throw stones at our own when they point out certain hard facts, but not at this man.

Is it only about his inbox? If all this was unimportant, he would not be writing this defensive little piece. He would have gone on with his work instead of telling us about how we must look for potential and learn from his work, his roots notwithstanding. Fine. As I said, people will move on. He should too. And I hope he has the good sense now to let go and get into his quiet life and further tap his potential. The Nobel is not the end of the world, as he has so self-deprecatingly implied. Now all he has to do is stop holding forth on India, although the adulation will certainly be hugely appealing.

We are happy for him in his heavenly abode – the West.

Hey, Venkatraman Ramakrishnan, you've NOT got mail

I am so glad our Nobel laureate has said what he has.

“All sorts of people from India have been writing to me, clogging up my email box. It takes me an hour or two to just remove their mails. Do these people have no consideration? It is OK to take pride in the event, but why bother me? There are also people who have never bothered to be in touch with me for decades who suddenly feel the urge to connect. I find this strange.”

There are two levels on which I adore this comment.

1. He is not upto silly public relations and seeking of roots. I guess in his field it won’t matter much; an atom and molecule here or there won’t really pull at heart strings, unlike, say, a Salman Rushdie who can really get us all worked up because he is working on us. So, good going.

2. This business of thinking every Indian is really Indian makes no sense. I know the expats get irritated when I say it but here is one of you saying it in so many words, words that are far from polite, whether it would be in the gentle temple town of Chidambaram or the robust Punjab.

You won’t find him returning to be garlanded and have tilak put on his forehead and talk about how rich our culture is and how much he would like to dig into the rasam rice. He does not give a damn, and I am glad. We have enough of these Johnnies in New Jersey trying to claim heritage and crap. This man knows that some teacher at Annamalai University is faking it when he says that Venkatraman was his student. He must qualify as a true child prodigy for he left India when he was only three. He has called it “all sorts of lies”.

Ramakrishnan said it was good if his winning the Nobel Prize encouraged people to take interest in science.

“But I, personally, am not important. The fact that I am of Indian origin is even less important. We are all human beings, and our nationality is simply an accident of birth.”

Great. I almost said ‘saar’ and then realised he would not know what that meant. I’d have to say jolly good, now that he is not even in the US.

However, I would like to know if he will indulge in such plain talking when the heads of countries congratulate him. If being Indian is of no value, and it ought not to be given that he was so little when he left, then he should be able to tell them to just chill. I mean, no one sends congratulatory notes to an accident of birth. He could have been born in Jhumri Tallaiyya and no one would have cared. Now Tamil Nadu and Surat and all of India think their dharti putra (son of the soil) has won. Some may even be planning to invite him. Fuhgetit. He is not playing ball. He might like to tell his father not to go around giving interviews about the Indianness, though.

As for the belief that people will take more interest in science because of his victory, this is temporary. It happens when someone goes to space or cracks a code. No one is mastering spelling after a girl of Indian origin won the Spelling Bee contest.

Given the number of Indian restaurants doing brisk business in the West, we have not had a surfeit of people getting interested in food. We just like to celebrate anything.

So, here is a short note to him:

Sorry about all those emails telling you nice-nice things about things no one knows or understands. Or, someone asking you about how is life and all that, as though you are interested in such small things. You are now big man and I am not flooding your inbox because I am fully understanding how inbox is suffering because of overweight. We Indians are like that only, eating and eating and getting fat. Not working out. But obesity is American problem also. You not knowing because you are busy with test tubes.

But, Venkatraman Ramakrishnan, one day when the Western press asks you about anything on India, and they just might – about its foreign policy, its poverty, its global leap - please do not give your opinion. Even though you may be well-read, speak as a foreigner, not as one who knows. Coz, although you might remember the ground as you learned to crawl here, you don’t know the ground realities.

India does not count to you, and we respect that. For some of us, the chemistry prize could have gone to some Maori tribal. We don’t give a tosh. Oh, that reminds me to start deleting all those emails that are choking my inbox. You have to pay the price for fame; I have to pay the price for just being an Indian trying hard to be seen as one.

Rib-o-some, eh?

Awards Knights and Knaves

Maverick: Some reflections on genuflection to the West
By Farzana Versey
Covert July 1-15

She was the dark horse. Yet, she made it. She won by some 47 per cent. The mainstream newspaper decided they wanted to know a bit about the Indian woman. Not the whole of her. Just her butt.

The benchmark is not our temple sculptures, but Jennifer Lopez. Why? Because those mute sculptures are not selling you anything; a Hollywood star is. The perfect bahu who dresses like one at home suddenly begins to show off cleavage and back and biceps sweeping along the red carpet. Our saree is not considered chic enough until a foreign model walks it in with an ungainly stride. I won’t even get into our designers and their Fall collections.

We play along with the Western archetype of beauty and brains and pop nationalism, too. Had an ‘authority figure’ been pontificating about poverty in one of our academic institutions, he would be considered just another jholawalla; the tweed jacket makes for a brilliant contrast and, strangely enough, additional clout.

A serious academic analysis is not the same as making it to one of the lists. We have these lists of most beautiful, the sexiest, the hottest, with no room for cultural differences. Dictators make it to the Time magazine list as do peaceniks. Sometimes, a homely girl from Sunday Mass manages to catch the eye of a maverick international director.

One would think that the underdog is having her day. It is quite something else – about how achievement is measured today. There was a time not too long ago when you had to do something in your field, maybe even sleep with the enemy, but that too was counted as occupational hazard. These days, you can just use your fingers. Whether it is to make the right phone calls or send text messages.

For all those who get into patriotic paroxysms over cricketers not being around to receive their Padma Awards, and they ought to be there, it certainly does not qualify as an insult. The insult is when these awards are given to special people with special strings being pulled. It is the sarkari mentality.

Actress Rekha refused a Lifetime Achievement award because she said it conveyed that all her work was behind her and she wasn’t quite done yet. This ought to have been seen as a tantrum. Instead, the organisation changed the name of the award to accommodate her whims.

Can anyone respect such accolades?

The other strategy, exceedingly wicked in intent, is when encomiums are showered with dollops of magnanimity, the sort that conveys the little people are being given their crumbs of the pie.

Nujood Ali was one of the recipients last year of the annual Women of the Year Awards, sponsored by Glamour magazine and L’Oreal, that pays tribute to women who have made major contributions to entertainment, business, sport, fashion, science and politics.

What was her achievement? Being a Yemeni child bride who refused to marry a man thrice her age. It is a bit dicey to accept at face value that a kid who was abused went to court. The people responsible for handing these awards ought to know that a 10-year-old is not a woman. Why don’t they pick up some Hollywood teen star who has been abused and fought back, and there are numerous examples? She is from none of the fields mentioned. What if the media had not made her into a celebrity?

It is a source of discomfort to watch such unabashed exploitation, that too under the garb of honouring the person. Does she represent true woman power? Would she influence people? Or become just another puppet touted by the fashion industry? Is there a catch – show me your hair?

Unlike the other prominent award winners like Tyra Banks for charity, Hillary Clinton for inspiring generations of women and actress Nicole Kidman for her work with the UN Development Fund for Women, Nujood Ali was a mere totem of the veiled young girl.

And with Barack Obama’s patronising acceptance of the hijaab there will be several more such honours flashily telling the world who is boss. For every knight, there has got to be a knave.

It's just not cricket...or anything else...

You Muslim? Then you better get the Oscar award or win matches for your country or do something…or else…


A sick little report appeared in the papers today. No one would think it is sick. They would talk about glory of secularism. No one would want to puke at a subhead that read: “Religion Took A Backseat While Celebrating Rahman, Pathans’ Heroics”

Refusing to get mired in hatred, Rahman chose the path of love and went on to win the biggest cinema award in the world. Just a fortnight before the tune created by the Mozart from Madras became a ballad for many Indians who will hum it for a long time, the Pathan brothers—Irfan and Yusuf—got together in Colombo in the dying stages of a T20 match when the dice was heavily loaded against India. They unleashed scintillating shots to help India claw back from the jaws of defeat to stand head high on the victory podium.

What the hell does this chosen the path of love mean? Even terrorists do not admit they have chosen the path of hatred. Are we being patronising and oh-so-kind that a Mussalman, that too a convert, managed to give up the thought of hatred? And what if the Pathan brothers had not managed to score in a match that was admittedly “loaded against India”?


This sort of reportage in a mainstream publication like The Times of India makes you wonder about all the educated elite and their liberalism. Here goes…

So what is your pick? Rahman or Pathan brothers? No doubt, they are the real heroes. For, they brought smiles and tears of joy in the eyes of millions—Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs. True, none of us thought about the religion professed by Rahman and the Pathan brothers. Who cares, they made us all proud.

Great. Now you can pick and choose your miyan bhai, go shopping for him (where are the ‘hers’?), even poke and prod to see if it is in good condition and will do you proud. And don’t you lie that you did not think about their religion because you would not have submitted this nauseating report that got published.


Do we say similar things when Harbhajan Singh manages a feat like this on the field; we aren’t even talking about the rest of the Hindus? How many Hindu, Sikh, Christian Indian musicians have managed to be awarded at international fora and been branded for their religion? (Zubin Mehta does not count and he is always “aapro (our) Zubin”, a belongingness bestowed rather than a grudging acceptance.)


And listen up. There are millions of Muslims and not all get the opportunity or possess the talent or the looks that will make you proud. But before expecting that of others, what about you? What do you have? Look inside your house and see if you have mirrors in the first place, forget an image. Then tell us about what you want from Muslims.


We have as much of a right to fail and not be up on the marquee as the rest of you.


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On cricket, I have just managed to access news on the firing in Lahore on Sri Lankan players and the death of some people.


I do not understand why it is always soft targets that are chosen to make a point – by terrorists and politicians. What has Sri Lanka done to Pakistan to deserve this? What have these sportsmen done?


Am sure there are analyses poring in; it is too early to conjecture much. Could it be the Taliban? Or political rivals trying to make international headlines? Or…


There will be the usual condemning and looking into the matter.


“Uneasy calm” there is. Why have we stopped being angry?

Burney 'pissing and pissing' peace

Pakistani human rights activist Ansar Burney has received the 3rd annual Mother Teresa Memorial (International) Awards for Social Justice. Despite other numerous accolades, he thinks this one is special: “Yeh dil se dilko jodne wala award hai (this is an award to join hearts).’’

Why? Whose hearts are being joined together in this? He got Kashmir Singh out of prison. And we all know that Kashmir Singh admitted upon his return that he was an Indian spy.

Burney said, “They issued fatwa from the mosques against me. My family members were scared to go out for quite some time as they felt threatened. But I remained committed to the cause. If to save one innocent life, I have to die 10 times, I will not flinch.”

Fatwas are a joke. He has been making trips to India, which means he gets his visa. And just for the record, people are not cats; they die just once. Dramebaaz.

And I repeat for the nth time:

As for all the hosannas being sung for Mr Ansar Burney, what has he done for those missing POWs? I know I have been ranting about it for years and do take a look at ‘54 Indian POWs versus Sarabjit Singh’.

I had written a letter to Mr Burney on January 8, 2002. There was no response. I provided links, offered all help. Zilch.

Meanwhile, it is amusing to see him follow our celebrities’ path. They all go the Ajmer Sharif dargah and the Siddhivinayak Temple to get blessings and provide a photo-op. Here he is with his son Fahan at the temple. The main caption called it ‘DIVINE HELP’.

Now I can imagine if some maulana rants about it and issues a fatwa. Burney saab will say, look, this is what happens for dil se dil jodna. I’d like to remind him that actress Meera too had this fatwa thing issued because she kissed an Indian non-actor in one of those forgettable films. She too talked about being a peace ambassador. He should have at least gone to some mohalla type place and sung, “Jumma chumma de de…” It would be paisa and peace vasool…

Sir Salman wins the Booker again

So Sir Salman has won the 'Best of the Booker' prize for Midnight’s Children to mark the 40th anniversary of one of the world's most prestigious literary awards. Good for him.

In 1981, when he was first awarded the Booker, it was by his peers. Now it is through an online poll.

Victoria Glendinning, chair of the panel who drew up a shortlist, said: “The readers have spoken in their thousands. And we do believe that they have made the right choice.”

Now the “thousands” really numbered 8000; Rushdie got 36 per cent of the votes among the six shortlisted writers, which amounts to 2880.

Two thousand eight hundred and eighty people around the world cast their votes for his book.

The report says: “At least half the voters were under 35, and the largest age group was 25-34, 'a reflection of the ongoing interest in quality fiction amongst readers of all ages’.”

A couple of things can be concluded from this. Young people are hugely interested in the Partition, so for those who say who cares about it, here is your answer. Two, Salman Rushdie has the baggage of the martyred Satanic Verses. It isn’t merely interest in quality fiction – did those who vote confirm that they had read the book and were they asked specific queries pertaining to the work? – but Rushdie’s reputation.

Even a simple account of the award could not do without mentioning how there were riots in the Muslim world (did not know we had a special world, now we need our own planet too, I guess) and “culminating in a death edict against Mr Rushdie by Iran's supreme religious leader, forcing the author into hiding for nine years”. The Ayatollah is dead and nine years are over.

"How will the Islamists react?" Oh dear, if you so desperately want them to, why don't you stand outside some mosque with your own loudspeakers and try it out?

Stop feeding this to those who voted; they were on an average still in kindergarten when Midnight’s Children was released.

MC, like much of Rushdie’s writings, is luscious and iconoclastic.

I still prefer Shame, but I have said this before.

New meeows - 13

It’s yet another son-rise on the horizon! Aditya Thackeray, scion of the illustrious political family of the Thackerays, who was known to have cultural and artistic leanings, finally revealed them to the world through his debut album titled ‘Ummeed’, the launch of which took place in a glittering ceremony on Friday. The occasion became all the more memorable due to the presence of Balasaheb Thackeray, grandfather of Aditya, and Amitabh Bachchan, who was present to unveil the album. At the launch, the evening began with a showreel showing luminaries from the entertainment world blessing Aditya.

This is pretty disgusting and tells us what metro India has transformed into. I don’t know of any 17/18 year-old who does not have some creative spark. How many are fortunate enough to have a music album with some famous singers belting out the songs set to tune by a famous music director and released by a big label (Times) with “luminaries” in attendance?

Amitabh Bachchan, of course, in characteristic humble style called it a family affair…the number of families he has around makes one wonder. He also spoke about the “creative heritage” of the young chap.

When we talk of dynasties we tend to only mention the Gandhi family. This one has to be taken into account. The father, the son, the nephew, the grandson, and of course the daughter-in-law producing films…and I do not know of anyone who would refuse to act in her films. Would anyone dare? And then they talk about dadagiri tactics by the underworld.

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Another kid who gets undeserved attention is cricketer Sreesanth. He poses for the cameras, parties hard, is seen with starlets and is called an ‘aggressive cricketer’ in tones which would suggest he has just won a one-on-one boxing match and got his nose bloodied. Okay, he shows his finger, does a jig on the field and makes angry faces…so? What does he have to show? He has done just about okay in the few matches, but why is he being touted as some sort of celeb?

He is getting film offers, and he has even stated that he is handsome. Fine, I don’t care what he thinks of himself and perhaps a few others do as well…fame does a better job than Photoshop, for sure. So let him do films; at least we don’t need one more buffoon on the cricket field who gets adulation off it for being a buffoon.

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Tata’s Nano could face stiff competition from "Nanhi," an indigenously produced two-seater car built by Chandan Kumar a schoolboy from Azamgarh district. The open air car weighs about 160 kgs, has a 150 cc engine, four gears and runs up to a speed of 80 km/hr. It is extremely fuel-efficient and can give a mileage of 40-45 kms per litre at top speed. was unveiled at the "Young Innovators Exhibition" of the Benares Hindu University (BHU) in Varanasi over the weekend.

This is inside page news. He is the son of a car mechanic who owns a garage. His ‘people’s car’ will cost Rs. 25,000; he had called it ‘Fame’ but because of the Tata gaddi making news, some people have started referring to it as ‘Nanhi’. Chandan is not worried about competition: “My car is better suited for small towns where the roads are narrow. Even cities like Varanasi have such narrow roads that a normal car cannot travel through it. But my two-seater car can easily pass through such lanes.”

I am not saying this is the best thing and he may not have the resources or backing to see it on the roads as a regular vehicle. But one must applaud the enterprise, the hard work, and the vision. He isn’t selling it quietly to unsuspecting people or calling “luminaries” to the launch. Just wondering, though. What does the people’s chief minister Mayawati have to say about this when she is not rooting for the Bharat Ratna for her mentor, the late Kanshi Ram?

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Talking of the Bharat Ratna, India’s highest civilian award…

My vote goes to Balasaheb Thackeray. Surprised? For only one reason. For saying this:

“I don’t know what is happening to this Bharat Ratna. This award has been cheapened so much that it has lost its sheen. I will never accept it. Of course, this is bound to generate questions as to who is going to give me. But nevertheless I am clear that I will never accept it.”

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End note: I could not help chortling when I read about socialite Parmeshwar Godrej being made out to be some sort of Mother Teresa. Why? Because she stood up against the might of those who were trying to suppress freedom of speech? What had she done? She had hosted Imran Khan and Salman Rushdie. And what happened? The latter always gets into trouble, which is why god created him and which is why he makes good use of his creator, na? So, some people protested outside her plush bungalow. But the lady did not let herself have a bad hair day even for a moment. Nah. She stood her ground, perhaps instructed her servants and her security guys to make sure the crystal and china were well-protected.

Heck, I wish people would not go so treacly about this. But, then, they do attend the lady’s parties and it isn’t nice to say bad things about her…besides, would these people bother to ask whether she would have shown the same “courage” had it been Taslima Nasreen. I don’t like Taslima, but to begin with, would she have even hosted her? No. She is not international, except among those who can say fatwa-jihad without much effort. Taslima speaks English with a Bangla accent. She does not do glam-sham things. No one has heard about her liaisons with famous people…I mean, she sticks to Bong academics, that too local….she hasn’t got within miles of Amartya Sen yet, and the Sen is sooo snotty, he will make sure of Shenshe and Shenshibility and the shensheksh…which is how Taslima would pronounce Sense and Sensibility and the sensex.

So, yes, the socialite has shielded the rich and famous who are being tortured but had a great time wrapped among chiffons.

Watch this space and you will never hear about her ever settling for less than that. So cut out the crap all you brown-nosers. And just wait for the next invite where the “mix” is just right.

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Cartoon by Sudhir Tailang in The Asian Age

Winning the West, filmi style

Eklavya is the Indian entry to the Oscars. I don’t care much about the Academy Awards, at least whether we figure in it or not. But I am really pissed off with the controversy surrounding it. Apparently it won by one vote against Dharm. I have not seen the latter, so shall reserve comment. It is a debut film and from what I hear quite interesting. It is also about social status, though woven into religious belief fabric.

Yet, I do not understand the general voices being raised against Eklavya. (I had earlier written a political analysis of the film vis-à-vis Bachchan, and not too kindly about the latter!) The film has an epic sweep; the cinematography is lush; the performances are way above average – I have to admit that I have never felt so empathetic towards a Bachchan character ever. He is amazing, the pride in his obsequiousness, if it may be called so, just reaches out to you. And then there is the backdrop of the Mahabharata. It has taken just one strain from it – the guru-shishya one and given us a flip side.

When I watched the film, the cinema hall was virtually empty. Two women behind us kept saying, “Yaar, nothing is happening” as they crunched irritatingly on some munchies. The ‘nothing happening’ was the brilliant silences, the darkened screen, and the repose in the eyes of the protagonist even as his lips twisted in an inexpressible agony.

Saif as the son he could not openly acknowledge and Boman Irani as the impotent real father were excellent.

I admit this was largely a male canvas, including the terrain, the high walls, the turrets, the large gates, the blood, the dagger…it is disingenuous to try and feminise everything. But for the sake of argument, I’d say Eklavya in his sacrifice and his quiet nurturing was indeed feminine. When he kills, he later holds the dagger as a woman would hold a child close for having committed a wrong.

This has nothing to do with the Oscars. I had loved the film and stick my neck out and say that Eklavya is an assured film and it is most definitely more Indian and exotic than those silly NRI home movies about aunties gobbling food and match-making young women who look like they have just played holi, wearing such garish costumes.

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I read the news that Akshay Kumar is overtaking (or almost getting there) Shahrukh Khan in the overseas market. Amusing. Are we exporting livestock? Why has it become so important to appeal to the non-resident Indians?

Movies are increasingly catering to their needs and sometimes it is pure sugar-puff.

Isn’t it surprising that for the enlightened West where these people make their homes and where they learn about ‘liberal’ values no female star commands that kind of interest? Aishwariya Rai has a following because she helps market a foreign brand of watches. Making it in Hollywood is such a big deal, it just is not funny.

And when one of their big or small stars visits our country, why don’t these media people stop behaving like fans when they are supposed to be asking questions? And why is it mandatory to want to know what all these LA types think of India? How does it matter?

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Salman Khan has refused to have his wax-work prepared for display at Madame Tussaud’s. They say it is because his ex-girlfriend is featured there. By this logic, he would refuse to pose for pictures in magazines where she has been featured. How puerile.

I should hope he has the good sense to have refused because he has a case against him in court.

And that he does not give a damn about how any Madame legitimises him.

Irfan Pathan haazir ho

Dear Irfan:

I am sure you are doing great. Your Ammi is doing great, telling the world that Shoaib Malik had no business to talk about Muslims as though he owns them. Your Abu prayed the namaaz, they told us on television. That used to be his job, too, at one time.

You deserve the rewards that will come your way. But, I have a small request. Do not accept the Rs. 5 lakh award announced for you and your brother Yusuf by Narendra Modi. Please do not. You were part of India XI, not the Gujarat team.

I know it will be a tough decision. You are not an artiste like Aditi Mangaldas, the renowned dancer, who refused to accept the Gujarat government's Gaurav Puraskar saying that art cannot be recognised through oppression.

Can you celebrate the sporting spirit by accepting accolades from one who has abused power? You are part of a team and you represent the country. However, I do believe this message should be sent out to the chief minister of Gujarat. He has blood on his hands. And he still hasn’t awarded compensation money to the riot victims. Let him hand that over first.

Yours with hope,

An ordinary Indian citizen