Khuda Ke Liye, please tell the truth

My initially reaction after watching Khuda Ke Liye (“K2L”) was not that positive. After talking to a few people I realized that I had perhaps watched a version that had been, post release and unknown to the filmmakers, edited by a butcher (I bought the DVD from a Hallal Meat Shop on Grove Street in Jersey City). The version I saw had Naseeruddin Shah’s portion (except for the scene where Iman Ali, i.e. Maryam goes to his house) and almost all of Shan’s torture scenes missing.

As a story, I found K2L very compelling. One feels for what Iman Ali, as well as what Shan, go through, nonetheless as a movie, I thought, that it was no better than a mundane Bollywood movie. I was disappointed because the story had so much potential, also because the actors deserved so much more. Initially, my thoughts more or less centered around how Iman Ali was a refreshing change from the Lollywood heroines I had seen a decade or so ago on my sole visit to Pakistan. From what I had seen then (although most Pakistani girls are very attractive and beautiful, especially those in Clifton, Karachi, some sections of Islamabad & the whole of Peshawar) was that Lollywood heroines came in two sizes, chunky and extra chunky, and spoke Urdu in two accent, Punjabi and extra spicy Punjabi.

But Khuda Ke Liya is a thinking person’s movie. One cannot watch it, and just move on. The depth of the movie comes at you a little at a time. This is a movie which you appreciate more the day after. It does not take long to begin to laud the efforts of Shoaib Mansoor, the writer, producer, & director of K2L. The music is mesmerizing.

I still have some disappointments. One of my disappointments was that Shoaib Mansoor COULD HAVE avoided using a very stereotypical approach in how he presented Islam & Muslims. As much as Fox News and CNN like to selectively state, whenever it suits their purposes, that Islam is divided between “Fundamentalist” and “Moderates”, it is not. Isam is divided between “Guided” and “Misguided”. Those who indiscriminately kill innocent people and unnecessarily cause mayhem and chaos, those who abrogate & suppress people’s (men’s and women’s) human rights and dignity, those who are intolerant, those who do not believe in standing up for justice & equality, those who are not honest…. are not Muslims (period, regardless of what these people may think they are). This does not mean that Muslims are not suffering from oppression and injustice. From Chechnya to Iraq, to Palestine, to Afghanistan, to Kashmir, to Northwest China, to Philippines, to South Thailand we can see how the Muslims have been singled out and abused. Does anyone know that Philippines (the whole of Philippines) used to be 92% Muslim once upon a time ? Nonetheless, there is a right path that leads towards freedom and settlement of issues, and there a wrong path. Cry for freedom is a human right, resisting occupation and seeking dignity can also be understood and accepted, as long as that does not become the reason for the “misguided” to become inhuman. What some misguided self proclaimed Muslims, under the pretext of their self determination, have done in Bamiyan, Afghanistan and in Kashmir (to the local Pundits) is as wrong and as evil as what the Zionist have done to the Palestinians. While our heart suffers the pain of the guided ones, we cannot harbor any sympathy for the misguided one. Hence, I wish Shoaib Mansoor would have shown the real division in Islam rather than repeat what Fox News and CNN says on this issue. I wish he had shown that some of the so called “Fundamentalist” are merely freedom fighters, while some of the so called “Moderates” are merely opportunist who believe in diluting Islam incrementally, a little at a time.

But who are the Muslims trying to free themselves from ? This in a nutshell is the million dollar questions. The struggle for freedom is not just against colonial occupiers and their stooges (without naming names, let us say that Saddam Hussein once was such a stooge) but also from half baked Mullahs and Imams. Islam has been hijacked (because most Muslims, even Arabs, read the Quran but do not understand it, because Muslim rather listen to some feel good bull shit from an Imam than what the Quran or the Authenticated Hadith tells them, because …) by political tin horn scoundrels pretending to be religious leaders. Some of these religious leaders of Islam are no less of stooges than the political leaders. There is a theory that Osama Bin Laden too is just a puppet of the colonial powers. Hence, at the end of the day you will see that this struggle for freedom is as much against Colonial occupiers (and their stooges) as against fake, phoney, & fraud Mullahs. Have no doubt, above 90% of the Mullahs and Imams today have a political iron in the fire, or are comprised by their economical conditions. Salvation for Muslims will come via reading & UNDERSTANDING the Quran for themselves, rather than depending upon compromised and ignorant Mullahs. I truly believe that a person who understand the Quran will not be misguided and will not hurt anyone.

Hence I am so disappointed that Shoaib Mansoor could have shown the truth about the state of the Muslims today, but was content to be a mouth piece for one of the planks of Fox News and CNN. In all fairness to Shoaib, some of the touches he brings to this movie could not have been ever shown by someone who has not walked the walk. I really liked how he ended the movie, the two “Azaan” signifies that there are multiple voices within Islam and while some are louder and being heard, others are lesser heard, but definitely do exist.

Let us now wait for SRK / K Jo’s “Khan”

Bakra Kishtoh Pe : Please call Salman

A depressed Lil C, holding back his resignation, said, “Why don’t you, like Ash, just please call Salman”

The unsatisfied girl in the photo took Lil C’s advice and called Salman. Now we are not privy to what happened in that meeting behind closed doors, but she came out with a smile on her face and in clothes not as neatly pressed as they were when she walked into the room. Perhaps you would also like to know that she had a spring in her steps, and was humming, “Zara Zara Touch me Touch me, Zara Zara Kiss Me Kiss Me….”

So while a satisfied girl, fantasizing future contacts with Salman, was jiggying to “Zara Zara Touch Me”. A Nikamma Lil C was drinking Doodh to make up for his health deficiencies. Apparently Big B told Lil C in his typical Doodhwallah lingo, “Mallaaee Chukne Ke Liye Doodh Peena Zarooree Hai”

Jodha Akbar : Something is rotten in the State of Denmark

At my grade school I still hold the records in sports, in studies and yes in punishment. Had it not been for the fact that I was a very good student, and very good at sports, I would have been thrown out of the school. Yes, I was a mischievous kid (responsible, and capable, but slightly mischievous). Walking out of Jodha Akbar (“JA”), I saw all the punishment I had suffered at school flash in front of my eyes (that was the effect of JA on me). Sitting through JA is worse than any punishment, apart from that being an insult to one’s intelligence. The problem is not just that JA is very long, yes, the length of Jodha Akbar is a problem, that being said let us recognize that there are many movies that are long and simultaneously wonderful. The problem with JA is that it is at least three movies at conflict with each other. Sadly the parts do not work like the diverse components of an orchestra to produce sweet music, instead they work against each other for attention and therefore prevent the audience to get completely vested.

Alejandro González Iñárritu has made a couple of movies with diverse sub plots where the movie is greater than the sum of its parts (e.g. Amores Perros). Closer to Bollywood, Anurag Basu also has used such a narrative format in Life in a Metro (lesser quality and technique than Alejandro’s works but definitely good). The rich content of Jodha Akbar that aSHITtos GAWAARikar (“AG”) wanted to regale us with demanded an Alejandro like treatment, hence the first & foremost structural mistake that AG made was that he used a narrative format that does not suit the richness of Jodha Akbar. Regardless of anything, on account of the narrative structure, the outcome was doomed to be dull & boring.

Having committed himself to a boring narrative style (this is not a statement against linear story telling) for his rich content, AG should have at the very least made the i) Political Intrigue, and the ii) Domestic Household Squabbles, subservient to the romance between Jodha and Akbar. That would have provided a central arc which the audience could have got themselves vested to. Unfortunately, AG gives all the sub plots equal attention and thereby compounds the error in the Jodha Akbar’s narration. It is therefore not at all surprising that JA is not finding any traction with the audience.

Without doubt the romance plot works the best, but this is just relatively speaking. The fact is that the various plots are handled so poorly that in comparison the romance plot seems good, feels almost like a relief. Nonetheless, when taken on its absolute strength, the romance plot too is very mundane. Take for example, the scene when Akbar asks Jodha if she loves him. In that scene AG raises some drama & expectation. We are led to believe that some out of body type experience is about to be witnessed and just when we have our hopes high, the sun rises and what follows is so disappointing that all efforts leading to this point seems like a waste. Now compare this with the visual pay off in 1969’s Mackenna’s Gold. There too the director, at the start of a scene, winks and nods that something exciting is about to happen, then when the sun rises, what we see is such a visual treat that it has become part of movie legend. In a nutshell this scene from JA sums up the problem, JA does not fulfill the expectation one had of it.

People say the darnest things. Woody Allen illustrates this via a joke about two ladies who go to a restaurant, one says that the food is awful, and the other responds, “Yes, and the quantity is small too”. Well the point is that if the food is awful then quantity being less should be a good thing. Vice versa when something is good then the quantity being more is equally a good thing. Hence I cannot understand how those that claim JA to be a masterpiece, also complain that it is too long, or that some portions are outright ridiculous. I do understand that something is rotten in the State of Demark Bollywood these days. Ever since CDI and OSO, evey Tom, Dick and Harry wants to be SRK like. No one wants to be just good, everyone wants to be excellent. Hence I ask, if AG’s JA is a masterpiece, then how come the war portion and political intrigue portion of JA falls short even by Sanjay Gupta’s (master of monkey see monkey do style of movie making) standards? Can someone please tell me how JA can be a masterpiece when the domestic squabbles portion could have been done better by Ekta Kapoor ? Please tell me how JA can be a masterpiece when the romance portion is not even half as good as K Jo’s or Yash Chopra’s romance movies ? How can JA be a masterpiece when the research on this subject could have been done way better by Dr Chandra Prakash Dwivedi. The fact is that JA could have been something, should have been something, but in essence has ended up being a missed opportunity. The person who should be blamed for JA’s debacle is AG. Consider the scene in JA where Akbar goes to a market place to gauge the mood of the people. The scene starts with a wise Akbar instructing his advisors how they should behave and ends up proving Akbar to be a buffoon. Or consider the scene where Akbar is his Royal Court gets up and dances. Or the scene where Akbar pleads for more room to make his own decision. After watching JA one concludes that with friends like AG, Mohammad Jallaludin Akbar does not need enemies. AG’s Akbar is insecure and weak and led by his nose by Jodha and his advisors. JA, the movie, is an insult to the memory of Akbar The Great.

Hritikh Roshan’s star power has allowed JA a decent opening week but from next week onward the content of the movie will kill any BO prospects (perhaps the controversy surrounding JA will save the day). JA proves that HR is a bigger star than Ranbir Kapoor but not as big as SRK or Akshay Kumar. AG should thank his lucky star that HR bailed him out, just imagine what would have happened if JA had Lil C instead (Umrao Jaan anybody?).

Ashwariya in contrast to HR goes a better job. AG it seems has been kind to her in JA. There is rumor going around that while in Jaipur, Ashwariya missed her husband a lot, and hence out of sheer kindness, AG inserted an item song, “Kwaja Mere Kwaja” with a Lil C look alike (with beard and all). Anyway regardless of whether the rumor is correct or not, Aswariya looks at ease in her role.

I laugh when poo-leach coming and pukring AECH

Let Aech laugh now, che is jus a phool. I laugh when poo-leach coming and pukring Aech. You chi the whole thing is that ke Bhaiya, chince school in Aech name, then crime alcho in Aech name.

Salman paints, Saif rocks, and Lil C plays Goti Goti.

It was past mid night at the bidi smoke filled Doodhwallah Central in Allahabad (India). The atmosphere was very tense. The survival of the first family of the Doodhwallahs was being discussed. After years and decades of flops, The Bachchalans had become irrelevant. The once law abiding Vijay of Zanzeer had now become a child molester Vijay of Nisabdh. People all over the country were now looking at Big B as a lame horse struggling to cross over the finish line. The less said about his incompetent son, Lil C, the better. Even the very seasoned Charlie Rose in his recent interview with Big B was finding it difficult to keep a straight face.

On the other hand, blessed with cute dimples and infinite talent, SRK was a natural star actor, a perfect husband, a perfect father, a perfect friend, the very personification of a winner. Whatever oxygen that was left over by SRK, was being inhaled by Amir Khan. With a series of strategically brilliant moves, Amir Khan has become the non-SRK. Together SRK & Amir define inspiration to all actors and wannabe stars in Bollywood.

HR, although a little wooden, with his good looks and decent acting ability was pacing the Khans.

Salman Khan paints, and Nawab Saif Ali Khan Pataudi rocks, and with these extracurricular activities they have catapulted themselves over the riff raff. Even Akshay Kumar with his mindless comedies has turned himself into a contender.

Unfortunately, nothing to write home about was occurring at Jalsa. Hence the bidi smoke filled, tense atmosphere at Doodhwallah Central in Allahabad. A consensus was emerging for the need to erase the disastrous set back mercilessly inflicted by RGV’s Hemorrhoids. People agreed that RGV’ Hemorrhoids was a catastrophe because it strayed very far from the essence of Sholay, which in turn was more or less a page borrowed from Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai. Hence, there was a ground swell to remake a more faithful version of the The Seven Samurai. Nonetheless, since the structure of society in India is very different than the structure of the society in Japan, it was agreed that it would be better to keep the remake faithful to Raj Khosla’s Mera Gao Mera Desh instead. Even a title was decided and voted on. Therefore Ladies & Gentlemen, my faithful friends, it gives me unique pleasure to break this news to you that soon Big B will be staring in a yet another comeback effort (financed by the All India Doodhwallah Association), Meri Bhais Mera Doodh. We wish Big B all the best, and we hope that he finally makes the comeback that he has been attempting since 1977.

I wish you could feel how gung ho everyone at Doodhwallah Central Allahabad is about Meri Bhais Mera Doodh but that still does not address the resuscitation of Lil C. One wise Bhaiya remarked that Salman’s paintings are fetching more money than Big B’s movies; and Nawab Saif Ali Khan Pataudi’s impromptu rock concert has bigger crowds than the opening show of Lil C’s movies, hence it is imperative that some extracurricular activity be assigned to Lil C, which hopefully might catapult him also into the top echelon of Bollywood. Initially Chappa Diya (i.e. Hopscoth) was considered, but then someone pointed out that Lil C is a clumsy dumbass and will most definitely fall flat on his face. Chappa Diya, it was quickly agreed, will be counterproductive to the need of the hour. Finally, after much deliberation, it was decided that that Lil C should play Goti Goti (marbles). Well, not exactly play Goti Goti, because that too requires some skills, but atleast Lil C should go around the country and display his Gotis, while the well placed paid media consultants and the irrelevant S.S. Sunderums and the Akshay Shaggos on the internet will talk about how fantastic a Goti player Lil C is. Hence while Salman paints, Saif rocks, Lil C will play Goti Goti.

Now my friends you will ask, what about Ashwariya ? What plans were agreed upon at Doodhwallah Central to resuscitate her ? Sadly, all at DC Allahabad agreed that it was best to forget about Ashwariya, in a uniform voice it was said, “Salman Hai Na”.

Yasmin, I am sorry

I do not like to shop. If possible, I buy things online. For my clothes and personal accessories, I have a personal shopper who lines up the ducks for me. I just accompany her, try on a few things that she has planned out for me, and get it over with as soon as possible. Worse than shopping for your self is accompanying a woman friend for her personal shopping, and shopping with a sister is death by congo (I hope some of you know that joke). Nonetheless, the one place I do not mind shopping is rue du Faubourg St.-Honoré . But then who does not like walking around Paris ?

On one of my trips to Paris, a few years ago, while wandering around I ended up at Mosquée de Paris (located at 39, Rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, pretty close to the Jardin des Plantes and the Museum of Natural History). The Mosque is made out of reinforced concrete, and is decorated with amazing mosaics, intricate woodcarvings and very Moorish wrought iron. It is a very pretty structure. Attached to the Mosque is a restaurant. That is where I first saw Yasmin. She was waiting on my table. Watching her glide around the room in her light hazel eyes (lighter than even mine) and somewhat curly Algerian hair was like watching a butterfly effortlessly flap its beautiful colorful wings. Her smile was enchanting, her face so innocent, and whenever she walked by she left behind an aroma of rose. I was on a rebound, not really ready for this, but a voice in my heart said, “Who is she”, simultaneously my lips moved, I asked a busboy who was cleaning up an adjacent table, “Who is that girl”. He smiled and with a wink said that she was a new girl who had just arrived from Algeria and that her name was Yasmin (true name concealed for obvious reasons). I am convinced that I was that day looking at a “hoor” from the Jannat-ul-Firdous (the highest and most prestigious part of heaven) who had been accidently, by mistake, dropped on earth. Every time our eyes met, a voice in my heart sang,

Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraaye - 2

Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye

Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraaye

Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye

Ab to mera dil jaage na sota hai

Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota hai - 2

By the God that has created the heavens and the earth, by that very God who placed the planets and the stars in defined orbits, by he who gave Yasmin her beautiful smile, I swear she was no beautiful, so exotic and yet so innocent. Nonetheless, I had lost my fiancée just months ago, I needed time to heal. In any case, my mind at that point was hostage to a walled street, unable to embrace anything unrelated to caps & collars; calls & puts. I quietly sipped my mint tea, ate my couscous, paid my bill and left.

I have since that day regretted walking away from Yasmin. I wish I had taken a different path. Yasmin was the girl for which any decent guy would have sung,

Suraj hua maddham, chaand jalne laga

Aasmaan yeh haai kyoon pighalne laga- 2

Main thehra raha, zameen chalne lagi

Dhadka yeh dil, saans thamne lagi

Oh, kya yeh mera pehla pehla pyaar hai

Sajna, kya yeh mera pehla pehla pyaar hai

Life went on, Kabhi Khushi, Kabhi Gum. On some night, all by myself, looking out from my balcony, the sparkle of one of the stars in the sky reminded me of the glint in Yasmin’s eyes. I felt that she had wanted to say something to me and that I had ignored her. Needless to say, during the day, surrounded by my peers, my thoughts centered around extracting the last basis point out of dry as rock projects. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, a new song began to emerge in my mind,

Har Ghadi Badal Raha Hai Roop Zindagi

Chaav Hai Kahhi Hai Dhoop Zidnagi

Har Pal Yahan

Jee Bhar Jiyo Jo Hai Sama

Kal Ho Na Ho

Har Ghadi Badal Raha Hai Roop Zindagi

Chaav Hai Kahhi Hai Dhoop Zidnagi

Har Pal Yahan

Jee Bhar Jiyo Jo Hai Sama

Kal Ho Na Ho

Hence on one of my trips to France (my fiancée is buried in southern France), I stopped in Paris and made my way to the Mosquée de Paris. I prayed two rakat kasar (traveler’s prayer) and headed to the adjacent restaurant. I sat down at the same table that I had a few years ago and like some anxious child started to look around. From the kitchen door, moments later, emerged Yasmin. The smile was gone. The innocence was gone. Her face seemed as if battered by life. She stopped by my table and I looked into her lifeless eyes frantically searching for that Yasmin from a few years ago. Even before I could complete my order for lunch, her husband (the former busboy) came out of the kitchen with their baby child in his hands, yelling at her to change the baby’s diapers.

Lunch that day did not taste that good. How can this world take a vibrant & inncocent woman and kill her spirit ? It is even happening this very second. It is happening under our very nose. Years ago, I could have done something for young Yasmin but I was busy counting my money. I came back too late, but I promise whenever I marry, whoever I marry, in the memory of Yasmin, I will give her all the joys of this world. I cannot change was has happened, but I will try to make one Yasmin happy. With that thought, I once again finished my mint tea, paid my bill, said goodbye and left, while somewhere in the background (at that restaurant) was playing,

Tum ko bhi hai khabar

Mujhko bhi hai pata

Ho raha hai judaa

Dono ka raasta

Dur jaake bhi mujhse tum meri yaadon main rehna

Kabhi alvida na kehna

Kabhi alvida na kehnaJitni thi khushiyaa

Sab kho chuki hai

Bas ek gham hai ki jaata nahi

Samjha ke dekha behla ke dekha

Dil hai ki chain isko aata nahi

Aarzoo hai ki hai angarai

Aag hai kab aankhon se behna

Kabhi alvida na kehna

I stepped out of the restaurant, looked back and said in a firm voice, “Yasmin, I am sorry”.

 

2007, a stellar year for SRK

It was late Dec 2007, a cold night in London, Lil C dug deep into his pocket and found it empty. Yes, things were that bad. After Umrao Jaan, Jhoom Barabar Jhoom and Laaga Chunari Mein Daag, people in Bollywood were shunning him. His super hero flick, Daaraona was going nowhere, and Dilli 6 appeared jinxed from the get go. Even his wife, Ash was keeping a safe distance, always on some far-flung location on a shoot. It was not as if he could run to his father, because his father too was having major financial problems after Chaddi Kum Banyan Zyada and RGV’s Hemmorrhoids.

Suddenly, Lil C remembered that they needed night guards at Madam Tussauds . He quickly paced to Marylebone Road (Westminster), atleast he figured that he would be warm indoors, and who knows there might be some leftover food in the staff kitchen.

It was difficult passing the “on the spot” exam for the night guard position, Lil C, shall we say, is not that bright (you know, …dumb), but it was the holiday season and given the shortage of help, for Madam Tussauds London, a warm body was good enough. Lil C quickly changed into the night guard’s uniform and raided the staff kitchen right away. By the time he finished the last leftover crumb of the stale doughnut, it was midnight. The clock struck loudly, twelve times. An eerie silence followed. The night guard stint did not seem like a good idea to Lil C anymore, he felt warm moisture engulfing his pants and smell of bad cheese drift gingerly into his nostrils. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he started hearing sounds of celebration, no it was the sound of the hit song Dewaangi Dewaangi from Om Shanti Om, coming from the Main Hall.

Lil C took one-step out of the staff kitchen, to investigate the sounds from the Main Hall, and immediately froze. All the wax sculptures had miraculously come to life. They were walking around as if they were real people. The moisture in Lil C pants became more pronounced. The stench in his nose which till then was going through an ebb and flow pattern became permanent and strong. This night guard stint at Madam Tussauds London was definitely not a good idea. Lil C made a dash for the exit, but he was so frightened, that he got lost. In his panic, compounded by confusion, he stumbled and fell down. Flat on the floor, down on his luck, what do you think he saw ? He saw a piece of Ash’s clothing. Well, my good friends, ladies and gentlemen, there is no easy way to say what he saw. What Lil C saw was Ash’s inner garment (you know what I mean). He saw a non-sharable inner garment, a very personal inner garment. Two steps later, he saw the remains of a condom wrapping. Then a few steps later, ……… Sallu Bhai’s T shirt. “No” cried out Lil C like a little girl, “Even Hritikh’s T Shirt would have been acceptable” he said. He knew, he just knew, she was getting her jollies elsewhere. It was now very clear to him that Ash’s being away on some location was just a façade, but thank God for the condom. You may wonder why he was thankful that a condom was in use ? Well the answer is that Lil C, like Ramses of ancient Egypt, was shooting blanks, and he knew that the world now, as before, would not accept Moses (should there be a new one) as Ramses’ child. Hence Lil C was thankful for the condom.

Coming from somewhere in the distance were the sounds of Ash’s lustful moaning, punctuated by her quivering cry, “S..a..l..m..a..n”, “S..a..l..m..a.n”. Lil C could not take it any more, he ran away from the moan. As he entered the Main Hall, he saw a coronation in progress. All celebrities had lined up to pledge their allegiance to SRK and to kiss his pinky ring, but he could not see his father. It occurred to him that perhaps Daddy Bachchan was not invited because they had not invited SRK to the wedding. Nonetheless, the good news is that in his pursuit to find his father, he saw the sign for the exit. As he ran out, he found his father outside the entrance being beaten black & blue by journalist with lathis (staff or sticks) that they had borrowed from Bombay police officers (Havaldars).

Lil C stepped out of the Madam Tussauds completely devastated by the events. It has been a nightmarish year for Lil C (and his father).

Indeed what a year, 2007 has been. 2007 has been the year that SRK with CDI has confirmed what I have said all along, viz, that he is the best actor ever in Bollywood. Then after confirming that he is the best actor ever, SRK went on to reconfirm something that everyone (not just I, but everyone) has always said, viz, that he is the best star that Bollywood has ever seen. Yes OSO has reconfirmed SRK’s legendary star status.

Salman with Partner and Amir Khan with TZP gave SRK the benefit of their company. While Nawab Saif Ali Khan Pataudi staked his claim as the fourth Khan.

Akshay Kumar took an important step towards Hritikh Roshan and became a contender to the Khan status. The four Khans, Akshay and HR now define the top 6 in Bollywood. Govinda with Partner dealt himself back into the top 10 while Shahid Dhakkan Kapoor joined the big leagues thanks to Saif’s girl friend’s JWM. Amongst the girls, Bebo was the SRK.

All in all it seems that in 2007 the sun was shinning and everyone made hay, except ofcourse the Bachchalans.

SLB wants to remake OSO

Lately, Cibelle has been spending a lot of time at my house, teaching Rahim Chacha, how to make comfort food. Needless to say, Rahim Chacha cannot do anything, certainly not cooking, without his music from the 50s and the 60s. So while Cibelle is teaching Rahim Chacha how to make that perfect macaroni and cheese, he has been teaching her Desi music and by extension, Urdu. I don’t like music that much and certainly not music from before my time, but it is my destiny now to tolerate Cibelle’s inspired bursts into a bollywood song. I cannot tell you how hard it is to keep a straight face when Cibelle sings, she can hold a tune but butchers the words completely.

This morning as I got out of bed, Cibelle started singing, “Abhi Na Jaao Chore Ke , Ke Dil Abhi Bhara Nahin ”. Now this is after she woke me up a few times last night with, “Chal Sanyasi Mandir Mein, Teri Chaabi Mera Taala Saath Saath Khankhaege” I was on the seventh heaven last night, generally girls don’t like to “sing” as much. Hence this morning listening to her sing, “Abhi Na Jaao…”, I said to myself, “Nayki Aur Pooch Pooch” and dived back into the bed into the tender waiting arms of Cibelle.

Alas the bliss was short lived. SLB was at my door, ringing the bell while simultaneously banging on it with his fists. As I heard Rahim Chacha walk up to the door and let him in, I quickly took a shower and changed out of my night clothes.

“Good morning” I said walking down the stairs to SLB.

“I am sorry to barge in like this, but I am very upset and wanted to talk to someone” said SLB sounding very apologetic.

“No problem, what are friends for”, I said, dismissing any need for an apology.

I knew why he was here. I knew why he was upset. SLB had recently made the mistake of going on a head on battle against SRK and was now paying the price of going head on against SRK. He was hurting, and being tightly wound, he could not get past the bone crushing defeat he had suffered. It was pointless to remind SLB that it was SRK who had made him the big time director that he is today (or at least until Saaborriya was released). SRK had made him, first by agreeing to work with him in Devdas, and next by financing Devdas out of his own pockets when Bharat Shah (no relation to Akshay Shaggo) the producer of Devdas went into a serious problematic phase. All that gratitude was now forgotten, SLB saw only blood.

I remember not very long ago SLB was so cocky and full of himself, that he decided to release his movie on the same day as SRK’s Om Shanti Om (“OSO”). It was not long thereafter that he found himself unable to match SRK’s marketing blitz. Rather than cut his losses and go into damage control mode, perhaps change the date of Saaboreriya’s release, SLB went for a “rope a dope” strategy which dictated that he keep the content of Saaboreiya a surprise, i.e. making the surprise the little engine that could (win the audience over), while simultaneously hoping that by the time of its release, OSO would be exhausted due to overexposure. SLB’s intention, it seems, was to announce smugly, “He who laughs last, laughs the longest”. Nonetheless like a true thorough bred, SRK, the Seabiscuit, kept on going without being exhausted, and in the end, SLB’s gamble backfired. Instead of laughing at the world, the world was laughing at him. OSO got a “Double Whammy”, i.e. the benefit of an energized marketplace, compounded by the windfall of a receding competition. On the other hand SLB got a rejection, his delusion of grandeur dented, his reputation tarnished.

So there was SLB in my library, sitting on the edge of the sofa by the bay window overlooking the 18th hole at an adjoining golf course. I told him I saw good intentions in his efforts. Perhaps, if he had focused on telling the story rather than grooming Ranbir & Soona. Perhaps, if he had managed the audiences’ expectation better with his promos he would have seen a better response. But SLB was in mood for any of that. “I have decided to show the world and especially SRK that I too can make a Masalla Movie” he erupted. “I will make the mother of all Masalla Movies” he added.

“Take it easy”, I said “Loosing against the Don Jungli Billa Khan of Bollywood should not be such a badge of shame, it is not as if you lost against the serial looser, Big B. Things could have been worse. You are a winner just for having had the opportunity to go up against SRK”.

“I don’t want to hear any of that consolation talk Shaan”, SLB cut in, “I am going to make a Masalla movie right away. In fact I am going to remake OSO “

“Sanjay, it is not that easy to make a Masalla movie. It may appear so but in fact it is even more difficult than making the pretentious bull shit that the Khasi Bakra, Anurag Kashyap makes”. I said trying to reason, and before he could cut in, I added, “Now listen to me before you say anything. Some time back Gurinder X-Large Chaddi thought she could do a K Jo or a Sooraj Barjatya . But after making “Bride and Prejudice” she went from Gurinder X-Large Chaddi to Gurinder Bina Chaddi. She lost all her reputation. You would be wise not to try to be Farah Khan”

Once again SLB cut in, “No No Shaan I have decided I will remake OSO and that is that. In fact I will compose the music and write the songs as well”

“Really” I said trying to play along.

“Yes, I will make an even more mindless item song than Dard-E-Disco” SLB said arrogantly.

“Is that right, a mindless item song about pain” I said, rolling my eyes.

Without any warning, SLB got up, removed his shirt, mimicking SRK’s dance steps, started to sing to the tune of Dard-E-Disco, “ Dhungun Mein Mere Hai Sundaas Ke Lende, Sundaas Ke Lende, Dhungun Mein Mere Hai Sundaas Ke Lende … Yeh Paani Puri, Yeh Bhel Puri, Yeh Ragda Paytis, Kar Gayee Apni Jadoogari, Payt Mein Garbar Hai Machi….Dhungun Mein Mere Hai Sundaas Ke Lende, Sundaas Ke Lende, Dhungun Mein Mere Hai Sundaas Ke Lende…Sundaas Ke Lende, Sundaas Ke Lende ”

“Wait, wait, what kind of rubbish is that, where is the Dard” I said while holding my head with both my hands.

“I am taking Lil C as my hero, he is fiber deficient, you know, as in constipated. The Dard will be there alright. There will be huffing and puffing too. It will be there when he tries to release his Sundaas Ke Lende into the Sundaas” SLB explained.

“This is disgusting. Oh man this is filthy” I said as I got up to walk away.

“Oh come on as if Dard-E-Disco was some poetry. This is the mother of all mindless songs” said SLB urging me to sit down and listen.

“I told you, this is not your cup of tea. It is not as easy as you think. People don’t want to see Lil C relieve himself, pain or no pain, with or without the huffing and the puffing. Tell me , is this your big idea, Dhungun Mein Mere Hai Sundaas Ke Lende”. I said, trying my best to project as much disbelief as possible.

SLB stood still for a moment, then said “Now I see what people have always said about you, you just stick up for SRK“. With that he started to walk away

A little defensive I tried to refute him “Well that is not true. I am in fact being a good friend by telling you that this idea is stupid just like your idea to make Saaboreriya. There is no way Saaboreriya would have amounted to anything. I give you credit for making the attempt but it was not a commercially feasible venture. But this OSO remake will kill any shred of credibility you may still posses. I suggest you take a long break, come back after a few years when people have forgotten Saaboreriya and then start all over again”.

Feeling insulted, SLB left in a hurry. Alas I fear we will be seeing a yet another RGV in the making.

This is why Lil C is a Bachchalan

Malaiwale Doodoo

OSO is “bas deewangi deewangi deewangi hai”

There are various categories and types of re-incarnation. A God denying Saddam Hussein was re-incarnated into a God quoting Saddam Hussein on losing his dictatorial powers. A girly man, Man Mohan Desai of the 70s was re-incarnated as a woman, Farah Khan, in the 2Ks. Even I, a person (while growing up), who was repeatedly told that I was selfish, self-centered, heartless, & cruel by my three sisters, was later (thanks to the hard knocks of life) re-incarnated as the only living man who knows what a woman wants. Let me assure you “What women want” is a very complex subject, and to those who are attempting to start on this path, to seek this knowledge, I would like to say, remember two sentences, i) “Really, that is awesome” (punctuate the really with a surprised look and a pregnant pause. Say this like you mean it, whenever she says anything) and ii) “Oh, my, my, you poor girl” (say it whenever you are not saying the previous sentence).

The most complex case of re-incarnation that I have seen is that of the Big Bad Bachchalan. A super star of the year 76/77, Big B was re-incarnated every decade since then as a bigger and bigger flop actor. Today he is a lame horse struggling to cross the finish line. What is more complicating is that while he still exists in the 2Ks, he has been re-incarnated as a clone as well in the form of Lil C. Here is a case where a decent actor has been re-incarnated as a non actor.

OSO is one such re-incarnation story. You do not have to believe in re-incarnation to enjoy this story. It is not as complicated as Big B’s re-incarnation saga. In fact it is a very simple and straightforward story of an unfulfilled man, who comes back to seek revenge against the person who killed him and his ladylove. Nonetheless, this sad and moving story is told in a fun filled over the top manner. The story in OSO becomes a platform to spoof the Bollywood of the bygone era (not necessarily just 70s/80s) as well as the contemporary Bollywood. The jokes, parodies & satire hit you nonstop. It is hard sometimes to listen to the dialogues because of the howling and laughter that engulfs the entire theater. I have never seen people have so much fun in any movie. I never knew this was possible. Interestingly enough everyone has his own take on the jokes. My mentor, Essac Bhai Khopdi who lives above the Sarvi Restaurant in Nagpada Bombay and has won many a Nawabi awards, thought that the blind/deaf and dumb and over the top SRK was a funny reference to Big B’s Black, while the good for nothing star son was Lil C.

Rahim Chacha, my butler, who never likes to be outdone by Essac Bhai Khopdi, has his own views. He thinks that Big B was not invited to SRK’s Bollywood bash (i.e. the “bas deewangi deewangi deewangi hai” song in OSO) because Big B did not invite SRK to Lil C’s wedding. Although I may not entirely agree with Rahim Chacha, I do think in many ways, OSO is like this song. While “bas deewangi deewangi deewangi hai” gives you an inside look at a typical Bollywood party, OSO is SRK’s invitation to an inside look at Bollywood itself. Farha Khan has left no leaf unturned in making sure that all feel welcome and enjoy this SRK offering, especially the common laymen with little or no knowledge of Bollywood, but it goes without saying that some knowledge of Bollywood will give a viewer a more profound reason to chuckle. In this respect OSO is not as mindless or random as it appears on a superficial level. The jokes and the sequence of the jokes are all well targeted and serve a purpose. OSO is wicked, it is a laugh riot for those who do not know Bollywood and but infinitely more so for those that do.

HR cameo was superb, but Akshay Kumar’s was even better. Govinda & Dharam Paaji were appreciated in the “bas deewangi deewangi deewangi hai” song but Kajol got the most whistles. Of all the parodies the one that I liked the most was about the insertion of a mindless item song with mindless words just to make the movie more commercially viable, yes I am refereeing to “Dar-E-Disco”. Hence, next time when you hear an item song such as “Kajra Re Kajra Re” you will know exactly the thoughts that went into its insertion. At the very least, after seeing OSO you wll know why Lil C is making a super hero film, “Darraoona”.

Thanks to the advances in the technology, the unfolding of SRK’s past is handled very effectively. The scene where he witnesses himself eavesdropping Deepika and Arjun is marvelous. Finally when “the moment of truth” dawns (at the Filmfare award ceremony) the reaction is just priceless. The look on SRK’s face and his voice (while receiving the award), captures the right amount of confusion, fear, and the acknowledgment of the new truth, without letting go of the awareness of the honor being bestowed upon him. All in all the Filmfare award scene puts SRK in a league never ever witnessed before in Bollywood.

For SRK, OSO is another feather in his cap. As Om Makheja, his hamming is as believable as his seriousness was in CDI. It is a SRK you have not seen before. Just like no one could have played Kabir Khan as well as SRK, let me state that no one could have played Om Makheja as well as SRK. This is why SRK is an actor’s actor, the Don Jungli Billa KHaaaaan of Bollywood. SRK’s Om Makheja is a lovable looser, then as Om Kapoor, the brat, he kicks it up another notch. For me the icing on the cake, as far as SRK’s acting is concerned, was the underplayed and intimate scene where he tells his father that he will try to be a better son (and a better actor). Before I forget, let me state that the rest of the cast and crew, Arjun, Kiran, Shreyas, & Deepika are equally outstanding.

OSO rocks. It is an, in your face, inside look into Bollywood. It is not too late to book your tickets for the next week-end. Some shows are still open but rush, don’t walk, OSO is worth it.