Much ado about...

Regular readers of this blog (I am still hopeful!) are aware of the entire brouhaha about "The play that never was" which happened last Wednesday. Irregular readers or those who don't know what I am talking about should read the previous post just below this before they come back to read the rest of this one.

Now that Wednesday March 25th was approaching, I was looking forward to watch the play more than ever before. Further news items in newspapers and on the radio, talking about the play and how its special edition was going to be a special show, kept on adding to the anticipation throughout the week.

And then it was that I received this mail from my boss asking me to arrange a mock session for some presentation on some product that we are launching. And before you say you guessed it, let me still have the satisfaction of telling you that the mail mentioned Wednesday March 25th as one of the dates on which the sessions would take place and before you jump the gun and take away from me my thunder, let me also tell you that the timings for the session were just right, starting about an hour before the show started and ending at least an hour after the show could have ended.

So it was that with a heavy heart, I drew the schedule and sent it to all concerned. I was still ruminating on the lost opportunity and trying to console the inconsolable Jassi when I was given a real bad look by one of the other concerned. He also happened to have planned for the show...with his wife...having bought tickets worth Rs 1000 each...twice of what we paid, btw.

In spite of all the bad looks and all the inability of being consoled, nothing could have been changed, more so when there was a mail from the boss again the next day, asking people to stay back for the entire session irrespective of whether they were directly involved in it or not. You couldn't have played around with something as direct as that, could you (we did try doing some re-scheduling earlier when certain things would have freed us up on time for the show)?

It was not to be and it was not. We sat through the entire mock session, I trying to forget everything by concentrating on watching the presentation getting murdered in some mock sessions and added on to in others, others shifting from being interested to being hung over, all this within less than a few minutes.

And then the torture ended and we were out on the streets to get back to home and that is exactly when the show broke as well. As Jassi put it very nicely, "not only did we not get to see the show, but we also got to get stuck in the traffic because of it".

PS: We managed to sell the tickets in time, and the person we sold to had a really nice time...really nice...really nice (yes, she did it, repeated it thrice).

My Blonde Moment

I did it. Before you start your wisecracks about how everyone does it some time or the other and it took me a really long time to get about doing it, let me correct you. It's not about what you think it is about. It is about what I am going to tell you it is about.

So there is this very popular play I had been looking forward to catch whenever it plays in town. The play called "The Vagina Monologues" is broadly a tribute to Women's Liberation and is popular the world over. It was last Sunday that I came across an ad which said that the play was in town and for the first time in its screenings around the world, this screening (the 200th one) will have any male actors and these male actors would be the celebrities Farhan Akhtar and Imran Khan.

Expectedly, it was an excited me who, after being reminded of the play yet again by an ad this Sunday, shot off an email on Monday morning to all friends, asking them if they were on for the show on Wednesday. Since it was middle of the week, most of the people responded in the negative and it was ultimately Jassi (Jasminder Gujral for the uninitiated is a colleague and friend) and me who ended up forming the party. I happily booked the second cheapest tickets (which were worth 500 apiece, incredulously) on bookmyshow.com and received confirmation for the same on my mobile.

All I needed to do now was walk up to NCPA (next building to my office), show the message on my mobile, collect the tickets, walk into the theatre and enjoy the show. Things were going along on the said lines till we saw that the ticket counter from where we were supposed to collect the tickets was shut down. When we, exasperated because we were already late for the strict 7:30 PM start, approached the security guards, they knowingly smiled and reassured us that such things have happened in the past.

While one of the security guards was trying to call up the program manager to help us out, the other kept talking about some Lawni event that was happening and if we had come to see that. Knowing that there were three theatres in the NCPA compound and assuming that he was talking about some event at one of the other two theatres, I did not pay much heed to what he was saying. He then went on to ask me if I had the message with me. I was about to blow over the top by now as I opened the message on my mobile and began reading from it, as if to prove the big mistake the guard had done in challenging some one like me on some thing like this...of course, I had the message...what did he mean by Do you have the message...Will I come here just like that, without booking tickets, without checking if I got the confirmation message...

"See, here it says", I said..."Vagina Monologues, NCPA Tata Theatre 7:30 PM, Wednesday, 25 March 2009. Aaj Wednesday hi hai na?". And that was when Jassi spoke for the first time. "Dude, kya kar raha hai...Today is Wednesday but not the 25th, 18th of March, what are you doing???"

Ghate do to bache kya?

Jaise door des ke tower me ghus jaaye re aeroplane
Jaise sare aam Iraq me jaake jam gaye Uncle Sam
Jaise Bisleri ki bottle pike ban gaye English Man
Jaise har ek baat pe Democracy me lagne laga hai ban
Jaise bina baat Afghanistan ka baj gayo bhaiyya band
Jaise door desh ke tower me ghus jaaye re aeroplane

Anurag Kashyap does it again. In fact, he did it again when he did it in DevD. This was what he did before DevD was completed and even if you may say that he did it better the second time, he still did it damn better than most others even the first time around. Coming after Black Friday and No Smoking, with Gulaal, Kashyap has gone really deep into the web of ambition, greed, and angst as he weaves his characters around it.

Set against the backdrop of the Rajputana movement and its overlap with student politics in the local university, Gulaal's storyline seems to be incidental to the real tale that is attempted at being told. This, perhaps, is the weakest link in the movie and it is difficult to say if this was intentional or otherwise...once human feelings and emotions take center stage in such strong fashion as in Gulaal, it is anyway difficult to do justice to anything else.

As you see Dilip Singh (Raja Chaudhary) move in with Rananjay Singh aka Ransa (Abhimanyu Singh) and are just settling into the movie just as Dilip is trying to settle in a new city and university, you are caught unawares as Dilip gets entangled in one of the strongest and most hard hitting ragging sessions seen on celluloid. You follow Dilip getting beaten and thrown butt naked in a room which has for company, another naked individual who, you realize with a gasp a little later, is Anuja (Jesse Randhawa), a new professor at the college. If ever a movie had set the tone for what was to come next, this was it.

Dilip's humiliation sees Ransa getting involved in the petty college rivalry and the subsequent entry into the scene of Dukey Bana (Kay Kay Menon) who is the covert marshal for Rajputana independence. In no time, Ransa is projected as the candidate for General Secretary Elections in the university, with full support from Dukey Bana and hidden support from his father, the ex-King, whom Ransa is not really proud of.

At this stage, we also see the introduction of probably the two strongest characters in this movie, the brother-sister duo of Karan (Aditya Srivastava) and Kiran (Ayesha Mohan). Burning with angst against their father for not having given them his name and against the society for never failing to make them realize and remember their illegitimate status, Karan and Kiran want to achieve their rightful place in the Rajput society, come what may.

As pawns start getting moved, the color of blood gets mixed with the heat of bodies pressing against each other and everything, right from bullets to free sex, is used to further the political ambitions of the involved players. Ransa gets killed, Dilip becomes the dummy candidate, wins the election. Kiran sleeps with Dilip, makes him lose his sleep and resign only to take his place. The two camps bump off people before seamlessly merging and Kiran using her charms on Dukey Bana to go for the final kill.

Things happen at such a frantic pace that getting a hold on the story and tying together the strings of each of the many characters becomes next to impossible. This may have been the falling of any other movie but the treatment that the characters get from the director stands out in this case. You keep marveling at Kiran's unabashed sexuality, at Karan's lack of any scruples in getting his sister on others' beds, at Dukey Bana's insane fervor, at Dilip's bumble act translating into that of a madman, at Jadhwal's (Pankaj Jha) arrogance and cruelty, at Anuja's pride and her frustration at having lost it, at Madhuri's (Mahie Gill in a special appearance) simplicity going to the extent of idiocy, at Bhati's (Deepak Dobriyal) cool composure and single minded devotion, and above all at Prithvi Bana's (Piyush Mishra) John-Lennon-amulet-wearing, harmonium-playing folk songs interspersed with some really topical English lyrics.

The score, especially the lyrics for Gulaal is one of the most exceptional to have hit the screens in recent times. With Piyush Mishra being given full freedom to flex his creative muscles, the result is striking. Whether it is the topical commentary sung and picturised as a mujra or the closing re-interpretation of Sahir Ludhianvi's Ye duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai, Piyush Mishra is simply brilliant. With his music (mostly in the background), lyrics and his smooth act in the movie, he stands out as the single largest thing going for this movie. And to say that for a movie which has excellent acting displays from nearly half dozen artists is really a lot.

The ever potent Kay Kay Menon, though standing by his own in an explosive performance, is still overshadowed at times by the sheer natural talent of others, the notables amongst them being Abhimanyu Singh, Deepak Dobriyal, Ayesha Mohan, and Aditya Srivastava. All these actors and most of others get into the skin of their roles and get colored by the red Gulaal at different points in the movie, red Gulaal that depicts the emotions associated with rebellion, revolution, anger, ambition, pride, lust, fear, greed, exploitation...

Anurag Kashyap has managed the technicals well and they are good enough to not distract attention from the pure play of emotions that is the high point of Gulaal. In trying to be true to the plotline, however, Kashyap does actually lose the plot at times. There are too many things going on and the typical movie audience keeps trying to tie all loose ends together, focus on how each character is developed, concentrate on the idea left behind with them at some point of the movie, expecting it to be brought to its logical conclusion before things end. It does not happen, however, and it can be attributed to the new genre of film-making that Kashyap brings to the fore.

All threads are not meant to be tied up, all ideas are not important, it is not as much about the revolution than about the characters' situations around it and their way of handling these situations. It is not important if you did not know what happened to Anuja, to Dilip, or to Kiran later...what matters is the strong realization that a change in guard is not enough to change the reality ala Ye Duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai...what matters is the look on Kiran's face in the last frame of the movie and she stares on with tears of pride at her brother as he takes over pride of place at the helm of Rajputana, a society of those very people who had rejected them, humiliated them, and laughed at them for their illegitimacy.

While you watch the movie and digest all this, you may keep your eyes open for the Kashyap touch. There are many ways in which he differentiates this movie, changing it from yet another couple of hours of entertainment to an arrogant medium of expression. The difference is depicted and illustrated both directly and through references...via the use of profanity in sharp dialogues, use of some twisted humor and unconventional music, attention to details, some jazzy light and camera angles, raising a toast to rock culture, whether it is direct references to John Lennon, or the indirect usage of symbols like the song Kiran keeps playing on her guitar (Goodbye Blue Sky from Pink Floyd's album 'The Wall'), and above all, cryptic symbolism depicted in so many different ways, in the antics of the painted Ardha Narishwar and Prithvi Bana, in the names of drinks that Ransa orders (Republic and Democracy, anyone?), through symbols like the word Nihilism (the philosophical position that values do not exist but rather are falsely invented) written on the black board of the class Anuja goes in to teach.

Ye Duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai

Movie: Gulaal
Lyrics: Piyush Mishra
Verdict: Simply awesome

O Ri Duniya

Surmayi Aankhon Ke Pyaalon Ki Duniya
Satrangi Rangon Gulaalon Ki Duniya..O Duniya
Alsaayi Sezon Ke Phoolon Ki Duniya
Angdaai Tode Kabootar Ki Duniya
Karwat Le Soyi Haqueeqat Ki Duniya
Deewaani Hoti Tabeeyat Ki Duniya
Khwahish Mein Lipti Zaroorat Ki Duniya
Insaan Ke Sapno Ki Neeyat Ki Duniya..O Duniya

O Ri Duniya

Ye Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye To Kya Hai…

Mamta Ki Bikhri Kahaani Ki Duniya
Behno Ki Siski Jawaani Ki Duniya
Aadam Ke Hawwaa Se Rishte Ki Duniya
Shaayar Ke Pheeke Lafzon Ki Duniya

Ghalib Ke Momin Ke Khwaabon Ki Duniya
Majaazon Ke Un Inqualaabon Ki Duniya
Faiz Firaaq Aur Saahir O Makhdoom
Mir Ki Zauk Ki Daagh Ki Duniya

Ye Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye To Kya Hai...

Pal Chhin Mein Baatein Chali Jaati Hain Hain
Pal Chhin Mein Raatein Chali Jaati Hain Hain
Reh Jaata Hai Jo Savera Wo Dhoondhey
Jalte Makaan Mein Basera Wo Dhoondhey
Jaisi Bachi Hai Waisi Ki Waisi Bachaa Lo Ye Duniya
Apna Samajhke Apno Ke Jaisi Uthaalo Ye Duniya

Chhut Put Si Baaton Mein Jalne Lagegi Sambhaalo Ye Duniya…
Kat Pit Ke Raaton Mein Palne Lagegi Sambhaalo Ye Duniya..

O Ri Duniya…

Wo Kahein Hain Ki Duniya Ye Itni Nahi Hai
Sitaaron Se Aage Jahaan Aur Bhi Hain
Ye Hum Hi Nahi Hain Wahaan Aur Bhi Hain
Hamaari Har Ek Baat Hoti Wahin Hai

Hamein Aitraaz Nahi Hai Kahin Bhi
Wo Aalim Hain Faazil Hain Honge Sahi Hi
Magar Falsafaa Ye Bigad Jaata Hai
Jo Wo Kehte Hain

Aalim Ye Kehta Wahaan Eeshwar Hai
Faazil Ye Kehta Wahaan Allah Hai

Tumhari Hai Tum Hi Sambhalon Ye Duniya
Ye Bujhte Huye Chand Baasi Charaaghon Ki
Tumhaare Ye Kaale Iraadon Ki Duniya…

The Colors of Holi

When it is time for Holi, I have never been one of those early starters, delaying the inevitable every time. This happens partly on account of the inertia that is behind my procrastinating self, and partly due to the looming fear of having to work hard for getting the color off my skin. Even when I was a little kid, whereas normal little kids revelled in the concept of dirtying themselves and others and getting lost in the world of colors, I had no such, at least not as clearly established, inclinations.

Now that many springs have passed since I used to be a little kid, the scenario is, if anything, even more so directed against the getting-wild-on-Holi tendencies. Not that I have anything against the festival or people who celebrate it whole-heartedly...in fact, I love all the revelry, the fun, and songs and dances that make Holi as special a festival as it is. But all the same, I can not get myself to shout with the same gusto, to forcibly bring out the shy ones from wherever they are hidden out to the maddeningly vibrant colors, to end up in a state where not even my closest and dearest would recognize me if not for a bucketful of water splashed on my face.

It is not that there have not been instances over the years when I have been one of the most vociferous on the battle field of color, actively involved and deeply ingrained. I can distinctly remember times when I was in different hostels (higher secondary, graduation, and even at post graduation levels) and as much a part of the fun as everyone else. But as I said in the beginning, I was never amongst early starters in this aspect, always the one who would follow the lead and that too after reasonable amount of either cajoling or coercion, depending upon the degree of inertia I would be under at the time.

This Holi was not too different. As India and Indians all over the world looked away from the daily routine and worries and trepidations and put on the mask of color, I was mostly unmoved and unimpressed. With Bharti Didi (my first cousin who stays in Vashi) having invited us for Holi, I was thankful that at least I will be amongst people on the festival and not closeted within the walls of my home with nobody but Priya for company.

I had thought that there will be quite a lot of action at Bharti Didi's place, what with Jijaji being of an effervescent nature himself, and his brother and sister-in-law also being there to enliven the atmosphere. I was surprised, however, to discover that the inertia I have is shared. In retrospect, I think that this may have been more because of the age group that the party belonged to. Although not really coming from entirely different generations, Priya and I were relatively the younger lot and the others had seen more of life and Holi festivities than either of us. And then there was the media, generally sermonizing on how festivals have been increasingly losing their sheen and zeal over the last few years, more so in the recent recessionary times.

So it was that apart from the traditional tilak, this Holi was rather colorless and limited in its impact. Till the next time, hope that the symbolism that color represents is not limited at all and all of you have an extremely colorful and joyous year ahead.

Nayan Tarse

Tauba tera jalwa tauba tera pyaar
Tera emosional atyachaar

The movie is anything but emosional atyachaar and thanks to a certain Mr. Kashyap for this. This is one movie that more than lives up to the expectations that surrounded its release. Not boasting of a stellar cast, the movie seems to be running purely on the eclectic reputation of its lead actor and more than that, its director. Abhay Deol and probably more so, Anurag Kashyap (especially after his recent work in No Smoking) have increasingly set themselves up for scrutiny whenever they try to do something that is even close to different. They have done so many things that are supposedly different and that too, in such a short span of time that any more different from their stables does raise the curious and often cynical eyebrows.

This one, however beats all cynics hollow in an almost surreal psychedelic fashion, a fashion, which to the average viewer, would come out as the underlying theme of the entire movie. Starting quite in similar vein to other recent small budget Abhay Deol starrers, DevD traces the stories of Dev, a spoilt brat who goes to London to study and his childhood sweetheart, Paro who doesn't think twice before sending her nude pics over the internet to her lover and carry a mattress to the fields on her bicycle in the hope of getting an opportunity to make out. As if this was not explosive enough for a start, soon enough, we are transposed from the single room sets and the fields of Punjab to the techno music playing bars of Delhi.

This transformation is not without incidents, though...incidents which are central to the story and the setting of context. A casual fling at a marriage ceremony (the definition of casual gets a new meaning here) and some banter about Paro result in the arrogantly rebellious scoundrel humiliating and disowning his equally strong-headed, reveling-in-sexuality girlfriend insatiate, almost as in an incomplete sexual release.

That is how it comes across, the first half of the movie, resplendent in the colors of the human body and the desires that it has over and above anything else. There are no feelings and no emotions as things move from one frame to another with an incoherently insensitive Dev trying to recover from the emosional atyachaar of his pyaar who decides to get hitched to an older man, if only to teach her jilted lover a lesson.

This recovery is guided by the ever-smiling, cunning Chunni, the pimp operating in the environs of Paharganj, that eternal cove of Delhi which hides beneath itself much more than probably the entire city of Delhi can dare to reveal. And this is where we meet Chanda, the girl prostitute, the linguist who can provide phone sex facilities in so many languages, the girl-woman who could never make it as the regular girl-next-door because she was filmed doing the unthinkable for a school going girl.

This, of course, refers to the DPS (my alma mater, coincidentally) MMS scandal. Here, I must admire the way Kashyap brings out the fact that everyone who ever found it fit to condemn the protagonist in the little MMS movie did so only after having a good time exploiting the victim, first by enjoying the episode to his heart's content and then, of course, by writing and talking reams on how the moral fabric of the victim and the society at large has gone to the dogs.

So Chanda, it is, who goes ahead and gives some sort of support to Dev, even if it means Dev vacillating between pining for a forbidden fruit in the form of an unclaimed and now non claimable love and coming to terms with the fact that the only one who loves him probably does not have the right to do so for she, her body and her love, are all on sale in the marketplace.

Sounds familiar, does it? Close to what Sarat Babu wrote in the classic Devdas, is it? Well, the answer is both yes and no for the director and all three lead actors (four, if you also count the effervescent Chunni) hold fast to a modern adaptation of the classic but at the same time make it abundantly clear that it is but an adaptation.

There is no way the classic would have ever thought of the three characters who come out at the most random moments in the movie to break into a jig or just watch silently, leaning against the wall. There is no way the classic would have such an amazing soundtrack and make the most optimum use of sound, lights, and camera to reflect the inner conundrum that Dev goes through while getting split between the two loves of his life...destruction of self and humiliation of others.

All the same, Anurag Kashyap does not fail to dig deep into the psyche of his characters and bring out what they stand for in the story that the classic novel tells. The nonchalant rebel in Dev, the vibrant pride in Paro, and the calm devotion in Chanda are all there, perhaps brought out in Technicolor through brilliant audio-visual treatment. The cine-goer comes out with endless things (good or bad depends on the diet of movies that he has been brought up amongst) to say about the technicians of this movie, whether it is the director Anurag Kashyap, or the cinematographer Rajeev Ravi, or the brilliant people associated with the songs and music of the movie (Music Director Amit Trivedi and the playback singers, specially Bony Chakravarthy and Shruthi Pathak).

Amongst the actors, it is not very surprising to see the underplaying of Abhay Deol fail for once. He could have grabbed a little more of the camera and been the better for it. However, he continues in the tradition of an Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye or a Manorama, Six Feet Under and plays the exact contrast to the most recent portrayal of the character of Devdas by Shahrukh Khan. While Shahrukh was completely over the top, Abhay is too subdued to make any meaningful impact.

The half-Indian half-French Kalki Koechlin is not an actor and that is very clear. However, Anurag Kashyap has worked wonders with what he has been able to get out of his real life girlfriend for this particular movie. It is difficult to put your finger on whether it is the disinterest of a prostitute that is essential to the character or it is the lack of capacity to act and portray emotions that leads to the empty face of Koechlin. Whatever it is, it works!

The one actor who comes out very strongly in the entire movie, of course, is Mahi Gill. Playing the super-confident woman of the world of today, Mahi is superbly brash but yet dignified, strangely even in her humiliation and more appropriately in her revenge. She comes out as someone who would be likely to be the sort of woman that the character of Anurag Kashyap's Paro is...and that is saying a lot because even if this character is real, it is certainly more real than what any of the movie audiences are going to be willing to accept.

The broad pulse of this movie is rocking, to use the euphemism that the supposed target audience of this movie would typically employ. The endless scenes of intoxication preceded by the ones that cause the said intoxication have been shot with perfection. The camera angles, the colors, the background score and the actors' emotions or the lack of them need to be seen to be believed.

Most important of all, the transition of the much filmed character of Devdas is there for all to see and admire. From a man who loved too much of KL Saigal and Dilip Kumar to the self-flagellating, self-indulgent man of Sharukh Khan, Devdas is now the sulky, unsure, and insecure individual who goes on a journey of self-realization, a journey that is replete with his own obsessions and addictions.