Until now, it must be me only, but the way Salman Khan is growing taller by the day is a phenomenon all of us must soon recognize and suitably marvel at.
1994 : Andaz Apna Apna ; Salman and Amir were the same pint size
2008 : Dus Ka Dum ; Presto! Salman is three inches taller. Now, you'll say Salman has pimped up hair and Amir has tonsured his head, so here's another :
2007 : KBC ; Salman towers over both SRK, and KAT, who I thought stood a head above both!
At the rate Salman is vertically reaching out, grabbing progressively taller girlfriends, and surpassing his co-actors in stature, I think I should post another picture in advance:
We've had it up to here with China now. Not content with eating up our Steel, Textile and Consumer Goods industries on the fly and buzzing over our BPO gravy train with malice, they have now unleashed new age goblins on our national flower. G.S.Mudur reports :
...a fly from China has been eating lotus plants across vast stretches of shallow freshwater fields in Kerala’s Malappuram district, one of India’s largest hubs for commercial lotus cultivation.
The yellowish-brown larvae of the two-winged insect have been feeding on lotus leaves for over two years, causing an infestation not previously observed in the country, scientists at the Kerala Agricultural University (KAU) have said.
Chinese scientists had first identified the fly, Stenochironomus nelumbus, in 1986 a botanical garden in the eastern Chinese city of Nanjing. Since then, it has spread fast within China, feeding on the rose-petalled lotus lily.
Link (warning: contains revolting photo of fly maggots)
The other night I was trying to watch an abomination of a comedy called Mere Baap Pehle Aap. It made me somewhat sad and pensive. It made me wonder what happened to good old storytelling in Hindi films. What happened to originality of thought, and most importantly, whatever happened to the healthy Bollywood tradition of wholesome plagiarism? I look at the releases of this year, and they are a very sad bunch. The Mumbai Film Industry is having a bad day at office.
So here's something I thought of doing. Something close to my heart. Now, I may not have revealed it to a lot of people, but I've wanted to make movies all my life. Yes, I'd also wanted to meet Santa Claus, but those were really early days. The moviemaking wish has been a consistently strong one ever since I learnt to put my fingers together and frame a shot, which was pretty early too (I was all of 15 I think). As I grew older, I learned to appreciate that writing an original screenplay and directing it is too much hard work for anybody's good, unless you are Quentin Tarantino, who I knew I wasn't (Y'know, for a brief moment there, RGV thought he was, but then, everybody now knows the score.)
So here's what I'd do instead. I'd settle on playing the movie producer. My duties will include selecting an working title, an original story idea, deciding on the chaps to direct and play the characters and hopefully find finance for the party to begin. (this will be the tough part, but here I'm counting on my blaudience, whose number now threatens to touch double figures. But I brag, and digress...)
You can say my choice of story inspirations are shallow. To which I shall say, "Oh yes I'm Shallow Hal, what the fug is your problem? Who wants to watch DEEP anyway? "
Without further prelude, then, dear friends, we present the line-up of the first 5 ventures from Digdowndeep Productions. Don't get fooled by the frivolous tone. These are serious business proposals, worthy of top-dollar investments. These five original films have been long time favorites, and I'm ready to bet on their viability in an Indian adaptation. I'm sure there are countless other Hollywood and European films waiting to get inspired by. But these are, to my mind, like infant orphans screaming their hearts out begging to be adopted. We'll start at the shallow end of the pool, and gradually go deeper.
There's the thing about the future. Every time you look at, it changes. Because you looked at it. And that changes everything else. This is a sci-fi, and not the 2050 sort. It seems the character played by John Abraham has the magical power to see two minutes ahead into the future. Into his own future. When he meets the Jiah Khan character, his abilities dramatically improve. a terrorist group gets involved in the story, and all all sorts of excitement ensue. For further details, visit imdb. To be directed by Abbas Tyrewala. (I'd have loved to rope in Shekhar kapur, but I want to finish it before 2050.) The film will be equally viable with Emraan Has me and Neha Uberoi, but it will have to bear the dubious Bhatt tag.
Fair? Who do you think you're talking to? I don't recall anybody ever accusing me of being fair before. I think I'm insulted. A deal with the Devil. Going hilariously wrong. I don't believe anybody else in India can look and walk the role played by Liz Hurley other than Malaika Arora Khan. Casting her is 80% of the job done. The male lead will be up for grabs. My preference is Shahid Kapoor. Aftab Shivdasani would fit just as well, but lack the presence and the innocence. Sohail Khan will do the honors at the megaphone for two reasons. He' s had experience in supernatural comedy with the disastrous Hello Brother. And he might be comfortable in directing the devil, 'cause she's family. The love interest? Somebody giggly and stupid. Genelia if Shahid plays the lead.
Hood: Okay Cool, man, the day a monkey comes out of my butt is the day you'll get your sorry. Bruce: What a coincidence, because that's TODAY. Man is unhappy with God. God meets him and hands over his reign. Just to show where it pinches. Who do I want to play Jim Carrey? Let's see, Govinda did a first rate job in Kiyunki main Jhooth Nahin Bolta (Liar, Liar), but the Chi-Chi of today won't look credible. Akshaye Khanna does decent comedy, I'll only have to get him a decent hairpiece. The only other choice is Akshay Kumar. While he has the gift of timing, he may not be adequate in the motormouth blabbering department. Then again, there's Arshad Warsi. Looks to me the most suitable. For Jennifer Aniston's role, I would take Ayesha Takia without hesitation. But we need somebody with a smaller rack. For that one scene, remember? Well then, Aarti Chhabria it is. Competent and underrated. Amitabh as God? Of course that would be the most unimaginative choice. We'll try Nana patekar instead. he even looks a lot like Morgan Freeman. And no other director for me please. Has to be David Dhawan.
It's different. They don't make films more different than this. A heist for, of all things, a rare tropical fish. Cynical plotters. A femme fatale. Bloodbath. The meek inherits the earth. Bible couldn't have been more profound. Important thing here is to choose our femme fatale. I'd leave the spot open for Monica Bellucci's character. It'll be a toss-up between Kajol And Sush. Kajol, a tad easy on eye make-up. Sush, with a bit of a makeover, to look her actual age. Whoever has the dates. Needless to say it'll be the role of a lifetime for both. I'm not too choosy about the hoods. One of them should be Naseruddin Shah. And the meek fish expert, the protagonist? Rajpal Yadav, anyone? Remember Main Meri Patni aur Woh? Nobody in Mumbai can make it better than Sanjay F. Gupta. Let's not look any further.
Three jailbreak fugitives. A stashed away treasure. A fast-paced road movie. American deep south in the '30s. Backdrop of racial strife, religion and an upcoming election in backstate Mississippi. A plethora of colorful characters. I don't know how my Odyssey will be Indianised. But I do want to get this movie made in Mumbai. We'll have to think on the lines of the freedom struggle and Hindu-Muslim riots. And at the same time, make a classy, fast, light-hearted and fun film. Tough ask. We might go to Vidhu Vinod Chopra and ask him to take charge. He should also bring on board his immensely talented director Rajkumar Hirani. Vidhu did a great job with 1942, he should be able to replicate it here. Or we can approach Vishal Varadwaj. Since he's been so good with Shakespeare, Homer for him should be home turf. I don't care much who play the characters. I only want Saif to play George Clooney's role. Suave and rakish at the same time, Saif can. Who will provide Soggy Bottom Boys' Music? Who will sing "Man of Constant sorrow?" Well, the issue will be settled at leisure.
That, then, will be my gift to Bollywood this summer. Anyone wishes to make such gifts is most welcome. We are about to start a campaign to raise the maximum number of story ideas. If you are reading this, if you're into films and Bollywood, and if you keep a blog (too many ifs?), you must also think of doing a tag. In fact I can readily think of three people, Amrita, Arnab and Ramsu who'll easily make a more handsome contribution to our campaign.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Feature of the day
This excellent non-interview of Billy Joel by Dan Berry on NYT. Made my day.
Wondering why Vienna in the song Vienna, I was reminded Beethoven's grave is in Vienna. Could it be that as a young and very successful piano player who was ambitious and in a hurry, Billy addresses himself, and thus the allusion to Beethoven's grave in Vienna?
Completely out of context, there's a good joke (in somewhat unsound taste) on that grave. Goes like this...
Beethoven's Ninth
A tourist in Vienna is going through a graveyard and all of a sudden he hears some music. No one is around, so he starts searching for the source.
He finally locates the origin and finds it is coming from a grave with a headstone that reads: Ludwig Van Beethoven, 1770-1827. Then he realizes that the music is the Ninth Symphony and it is being played backward! Puzzled, he leaves the graveyard and persuades a friend to return with him.
By the time they arrive back at the grave, the music has changed. This time it is the Seventh Symphony, but like the previous piece, it is being played backward. Curious, the men agree to consult a music scholar.
When they return with the expert, the Fifth Symphony is playing, again backward. The expert notices that the symphonies are being played in the reverse order in which they were composed, the 9th, then the 7th, then the 5th.
By the next day the word has spread and a throng has gathered around the grave. They are all listening to the Second Symphony being played backward. Just then the graveyard's caretaker ambles up to the group. Someone in the crowd asks him if he has an explanation for the music.
"Don't you get it?" the caretaker said, incredulously. "He's decomposing!"
I can't thank Bongo enough. He first brought it to my notice, via The NY Times, and Sepia Mutiny, that the video which had blown my mind away on first watch about ten days ago, and by now has been viewed five million times already, had music set on lyrics from Rabindranath tagore's poem from Gitanjali. Set to haunting music by Gary Schyman, and sung with rare verve by Palbasha Siddique, a Bangladeshi teenager out of Minnesota. Like the NY Times article says,
In many ways “Dancing” is an almost perfect piece of Internet art: it’s short, pleasingly weird and so minimal in its content that it’s open to a multitude of interpretations. It could be a little commercial for one-world feel-goodism. It could be an allegory of American foreign policy: a bumptious foreigner turning up all over the world and answering just to his own inner music. Or it could be about nothing at all — just a guy dancing.However you interpret it, you can’t watch “Dancing” for very long without feeling a little happier.
I was so happy watching the video I couldn't, or didn't bother about lyrics at all. At first watch, it sounded like something in in an obscure language, maybe Maori. The music was appropriate. I even showed it to two Bengali friends last Sunday morning, over beer. They had the same reaction. Nobody caught the words.
Bongo was curious about what the poem actually was, so I thought about looking a little more and found it was from Gitanjali. Utube has even released a version of the music with subtitles here. The number is selling wildly on Amazon too. The lyrics I will Ctrl-C Ctrl-V from here for fellow Bengalis who might be too lazy to read subtitles.
Bhulbona ar shohojete Shei praan e mon uthbe mete Mrittu majhe dhaka ache je ontohin praan
Bojre tomar baje bashi She ki shohoj gaan Shei shurete jagbo ami
Bojre tomar baje bashi She ki shohoj gaan Shei shurete jagbo ami She ki shohoj gaan.
Two things. I'm as true red a Bong as they come, though I don't readily recall that poem. Second, as many Bongs would agree, the work that got Tagore his Nobel was definitely not his best. It was like giving the Coen Brothers the Best Picture Oscar for No Country, and not for Fargo or Oh Brother, where art thou?
Wifey, of course, effortlessly took the cake. Last weekend I once went running some errands while the video was playing on the pc. She was pottering about the house and not watching. She now says she caught the words right then and it sounded vaguely like Rabindranath. I'm like, stop pheko-ing, mama!
Delivered as an insert with the morning paper. Captivating. As adverts go, one hell of a job dun.
In other news, the perfect bloody Mary still proving to be elusive. Do I have a future in food photography? Think not.
With the annual liquor license renewal drama in effect in these parts, practically any kind of booze is elusive in the neighborhood. It's like the tramp said "who do you have to f*** to get a quart of Vodka around here?" We try and get by. The booze shops remain closed. A lacky hangs out nearby. You slow down and peer. The exchange takes place fifty yards away near some shrubberies. So much for law enforcement.
I've devised a drink, which, for some reason I call The Hotshot Russian :
2 1/2 oz Vodka 3/4 oz fresh lime juice rock salt/kosher salt to taste 1 tsp tabasco Black pepper powder (optional)
Stirred with lots of ice. Garnished with black olives. We like.
I love work. It fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. The idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart.
-Stephen leacock
To : helpline.lhopat@sbi.co.in ; cc :dgm.customer@sbi.co.in
This is to bring to your notice the following :
1. I have a savings account at your ****** ***** City Branch; A/c no. ########### 2. Sometime during 2005, I had applied for and obtained internet banking facility for my account. 3. After a few months, during which I had logged on to my account infrequently on a few occasions, the username/ password stopped working. I had informed my Local Branch. 4. After repeated complaints regarding the above, the Local Branch issued me a fresh internet banking kit ( KIT NO. ##########, packet no.#####, circle code .##, Serial no. ##) in April 2008. I was told the facility will be activated in 48 hours and I will be able to log on. 5. When, however, I was not able to log on even after a week, I contacted the Branch, upon which I was asked to wait a few days more. 6. The situation remaining the same, I went to them again and this time I was assured an e-mail will be sent to the Central Office, Mumbai where these things are handled, and my problem will be solved. Nothing happened. Another month passed. 7. On the 26th of June, 2008, at my insistence, a reminder mail was sent. 8. As on date, there's still been no action. Today I have spoken to the concerned officer at the Branch, who has promised to talk to Mumbai Office on the phone and get the issue resolved. However, since his assurances didn't account for much in the past, I'm not too optimistic.
I request you to kindly take necessary action on the matter and put an end to my inconvenience. Needs no elaboration. Another one in my endless series of travails and tribulations. Yes, I'm aware that lately I've been given to writing progressively boring posts. But dear reader, such is my life. If you've read this far, please go on. Might get a tad interesting at the end.
I am an old SBI faithful. I have eaten their salt, so to speak. My father used to work there till the day he retired. That association, and some inertia made me keep my salary account with them till this day. But they've let me down. Badly, and on numerous occasions. I'll give another example. The Branch I bank at is the biggest in the district. It's become what they call a core-banking branch for some time now. Last month, I needed to send a little money to my father's account in Kolkata. Since I still can't e-bank, I had to physically go to my bank. I was asked to fill a slip and drop a check in the box. They said all fund transfers are electronic now, and the money should be there in minutes. Three days and many phone calls to dad later, I went back to ask why it was not. There, I mean. By the time I'd raised a small ruckus so a manager was called in, a peon rummaged through a stack of papers at the back of somebody's desk and came back with my check and slip. It was revealed that the man who does the electronic transfer jobs was on leave for the last few days. Who will do his work? Management was still trying to work it out. In the mean time, individual cases were being processed on the merit of nuisance value. Like mine eventually was.
I believe the issue here is generic as opposed to an isolated example of inefficiency. This is sucking reality as we see it everyday in the big Indian Corporations. Most specifically PSUs. I speak from first hand experience since I work in a Navaratna. Organizations used to move at a leisurely pace for decades have been forced onto the technology expressway in the global marketplace. They now have one-third the manpower. Their best people have jumped ships and more are about to go. Like I was saying, who will do the work? This is the question staring many in the face. The Goliaths of Indian Industry are reeling under its onslaught. They are facing all the circus associated with retrofitting technology in old infrastructure. They are downsizing, they're rightsizing. They are outsourcing. Only, the fact on the ground is different from these gobbledygook. By design these organizations had too many functions and too much work to be done as compared to, say, a new age technology or retail company, where the process is designed to be smooth and hassle-free. The transition from this, to that, is slow, and fraught with excruciating pain.
I could go on and on, but I thought I heard snoring sounds. One last scrap of bakwas, okay? ok.
When Mr. Kumar, the concerned officer at SBI was about to check when had he sent the earlier mail re my e-banking, I peered into his screen. I saw he had used up about 99.98% of his mailbox (a princely 5mb) on the SBImail account he was using. This was on the SBI internal server. I asked him how come his bank gave only 5 mb to its employees while free mail service providers today provide anybody close to 3gb and still counting? In reply, he gave me a sad smile. He needed to delete some old mail in order to clear up space to send mine. He seemed at a loss for which ones to delete, which I thought was unusual (since it was his own mail, no?) He could not find the earlier mail and muttered that somebody else must have deleted it. I asked, "But how would somebody else log on to your mailbox?"
The penny dropped. The 5 mb mailbox was not his personal one. It was meant for the whole Branch. This, the biggest in the district, remember?
How does one receive free bars of soap, sachets of shampoo, conditioner, face wash, or fairness potions (eek, the horror!) with one's fortnightly? Not with ecstatic joy, I presume, but pleasant surprise, anyone? Thank you. I guessed as much.
Imagine now, the WTF expression on the countenance of hundreds of post-teens, freshmen and sophomores of Bengal one fine day, when the paper boy delivered their favorite vernacular spread packed with a punch. Two free caps of Revital in a sample pack.
Now, Revital in India is an OTC drug. While Ranbaxy positions it as a daily food supplement that also contains ginseng, which will help you keep sharp and active throughout the day, this med info site from Moldova says it is indicated for assorted dermatological problems. Whatever the fug it is used for, there is an underlying implication that it's got Ginseng and thus, mythical age-defying aphrodisiac properties. It may not be much in this day and age when anybody with a mail ID meets about five peddlers of cheap Viagra in the course of one working day. But old timers will still remember the early eighties when these ginseng concoctions had flooded the Indian market. Whereas these were mostly advertised with scant subtlety and a picture of coital bliss, one brand, 30-plus, had a stand-apart visual of an extremely fit Jeetendra (then 50 plus) enjoying life as a mature (read over-the-hill) gent with Simple Kapadia as arm-candy. The advert had sort of shaped our outlook towards Ginseng products, through the years. That these were meant for old foggies who otherwise can't, ahem...stand up and deliver.
Thus it came as a shock when Ananda Publishers started distributing free samples of Revital with their recent issue of Unish Kuri, a magazine targeted at teenagers and young adults. Frankly, as one Doc friend puts it, the gimmick helps promote none of the two brands. Like a fish needs a bicycle, he said. (Or, is it? Do fishes need bicycles too?)
When an editor of said magazine was contacted, she didn't seem too enthusiastic about the promotion idea herself, saying it was part of a strategic block deal between Ranbaxy and ABP. She encouraged readers' reaction to the issue. Apparently, ABP is also distributing the same sample packs with Desh, their flagship literary mag, and Anandalok, a hugely popular film fortnightly in Bengali. They have their rationale in perfect order. Since the product is a harmless dietary supplement suitable for all adults, there's no reason it should be R-rated.
In their quest to deliver to the younger populace a taste of the sharp, energetic and active life, ABP has not yet extended the offer to Anadamela. We're waiting.
I have been told that I often give the impression of ogling. Actually I'm absorbed deep in thought and just staring blankly. The absent minded observer.
1994 : Andaz Apna Apna ; Salman and Amir were the same pint size
2008 : Dus Ka Dum ; Presto! Salman is three inches taller. Now, you'll say Salman has pimped up hair and Amir has tonsured his head, so here's another :
1998 : Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai ; SRK looks marginally taller
2007 : KBC ; Salman towers over both SRK, and KAT, who I thought stood a head above both!
