Punjabi-fication of India !

Instead of Punjab being a state of India, is India becoming a state of Punjab?

If popular culture and social mores are to go by, it does indeed seem that there is what might be called a progressive Punjabification of the country.

The current wedding season – which is on at full blast, in more ways than one – provides topical evidence. Ever since Mira Nair’s Monsoon Wedding, marriage a la mode in India has gained a distinctive Punjabi flavour, from the reception of the bhangra-dancing barat to the celebratory dinner which would be incomplete without the inclusion of butter paneer masala and makhni dal with an extra dollop of asli ghee thrown in to give a touch more josh.

    Weddings apart, Punjab and Punjabi ways seem to set the pace for the rest of India in everyday walks of life. The salwar-kameez has long been a rival of the sari as the unofficial national dress for Indian women.

And while Hindi might still meet with resistance from diehard lingual chauvinists south of the Vindhyas, even such regional jingoists seem to have little or no difficulty in swallowing either the ‘arre, yaar’ Punjabified ‘dialogues’ of Bollywood or that ultimate in north-south fusion cuisine: the tandoori tikka dosa.

    What is it about Punjab – or at least the common perception of it – that makes it such a dominant feature of  the Indian mindscape? In many ways, Punjab could be said to be the Texas of India: larger than life, and twice as loud in proclaiming as much. Punjab’s legendary zest for life and living is perhaps best summed up in the old saying that beer is the sixth river that flows through the Land of the Five Rivers, the unabashed culture of which is agri-culture. This image of backslapping boisterousness is amplified and echoed by the Punjabi ‘doublespeak’ of rhyming slang – which has rapidly infiltrated other vernacular languages – whereby a drink becomes ‘drink-shrink’, which you have at a ‘party-sharty’ with your ‘pal-shals’. Such verbal largesse – why make do with one word when using two is so much better? – reflects the bountiful generosity of the land and the people who pioneered the Green Revolution in the country.

    But perhaps the most distinctive trait of Punjabis is their mobility. In a country of internal migrants, the Punjabi stands out as the most energetic and adventuresome of them all. In direct opposition to the parochial ‘sons of the soil’ ideology as expressed by the likes of Bal and Raj Thackeray, the Punjabi stands for a ‘sons of the toil’ attitude which indicates a willingness and an ability to go wherever there is work to be found or an opportunity for an enterprise to be run. The cartoon showing the US astronauts landing on the lunar surface only to be greeted by a Punjabi who’s set up a tea stall there says it all.
Indeed the Punjabi dhaba, providing rest and refreshment to the weary traveller through the length and breadth of the country, is as much an integral part of India’s social geography as the pub once was of the British landscape. It is this an-nationalism which suggests that it’s no bad thing at all for Punjab to embrace in its hearty jhappi the whole of India that is Bharat-Wharat.

A 'Guzaarish' from the Heart

Yes,  I am touched. By the sheer magic of this movie that I saw last night. And I was crying like a baby (thanks to my loneliness) after the end credits rolled by....wow, seldom does a celluloid experience leave you with such a craving that you neither feel like moving, nor like sitting....it leaves you nowhere but subtly shaken and stirred.

I must admit that I have been a great admirer of Sanjay Leela Bhansali (SLB)'s art and direction, and his excellent scale of music and the sheer expanse of his screenplay but for some loud and at times over the top performances by even the finest of actors has made his movies look like a theatre cadre. From 'Khamoshi' to 'Guzaarish' , his cinema has the darkest hues and the brightest stars , yet there is so much in between that I always felt missing.
May be that's one reason, I always anticipate his next venture. And this time, he didn't disappoint me.

I think its not the story, but the medium of storytelling which is what makes cinema worthwhile...and SLB used this medium superbly to craft a show like this ...a show of extreme yet subdued emotions, lyrically flowing frame by frame...leaving you spellbound. Add to it the musical encore that lifts you into a completely new sphere...and makes you stay there...craving for more.
Hats off for the most romantic love ballad accentuated by classic choreography in the song ' Yeh Tera Zikr Hai '....a surreal experience !

Coming to performances, Aishwarya looked ravishingly beautiful , vulnerable, intrusive and her red lipstick, black eyeshades did most of the talking....what can I say more, just watch out as she pretends to moan as a tit for tat...while Hrithik chuckles on seductively, eyes facing off . A sheer treat to watch. I think SLB knows her raw talent , and he has exposed it again as he first did in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam.

Hrithik will be remembered for playing this physically challenged role, for he made it look so natural and painful. His character was etched with lot of colors and he played around with it such elan and poise amidst the dark background, that he almost glowed and shined .

His dialogue delivery and his voice had such a dignified punch to them, that it straight into the heart at various angles. He looked like a Magician, and he played like a Magician and he spoke like a Magician ....watch him in the scene where he fights the rain drops falling from his ceiling , just through his expressions. Bravo !


And those final moments towards the end, those unforgettable minutes before the curtain draws, this man just excels by his sheer presence...his body language and his speech creating an aura of a super natural being trying to be as human as he can...and warming our hearts, tickling our senses, making our mind stop thinking, and our eyes so wet, that everything seems like a dream....as he makes his final 'Guzaarish'.



This 'Guzaarish' will stay with me forever, just like yesteryear 's Anand, Mili and Sadma.

Down near the water where the world slips away

Leaving ...

Gone - flitted away,
Taken the stars from the night and the sun
From the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart.
~Alfred Tennyson

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravelled, fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
~Oliver Goldsmith, The Traveller

P.S. I Read It !

Have you read "PS I Love You"?

The BOOK?

Yeah...

No, I have seen the movie.

Movie is good but book is very very good..

Having got back to back recommendations from two female colleagues , I could not resist but ask for it .

" Can you give me the book to read ?

Surprisingly, the book was delivered to my desk 2 days later and I was coerced into reading what was already touted as a tearjerker of sorts by both the ladies.

Well, having seen the movie quite a while ago, I had faint recollection of the two central characters of the story , Holly and Gerry and the plot in its entirety. I had loved the emotional perturbation portrayed by Hilary Swank (Holly) after losing her dearest hubby, Gerry (Gerad Butler). Twenty minutes into the movie, and I was lost deep into the sublime plot of how a bereaved wife comes to terms with the death of her husband by reading letters left for her by him, each guiding her and ecouraging her to live life afresh....and of-course, a gentle reminder at the end of each letter ...P.S. I love you . 

I still remember that as I finished watching the movie, I was smiling with a heavy heart and sighed 'wow...good one'!

Now as I read the book, I could almost feel going back in time to that emotional frame of mind. I did not anticipate any twists and turns to the plot , nor any deviation from the grief and sorrow of Holly , albeit it was a deliberate attempt to absorb myself into her grim life and 'feel' the loss and desperation through the words of the author. ofcourse, those visuals from the film never left me , for me Hillary was Holly and Gerad was Gerry. 

Well, now having gone through both the mediums that told the same story, I would say the film took much liberty in restructuring the plot in quite a few ways but still it did justice to the book just because of the sheer fact that it touched and moved every little way the book intended to be.

But the book, as a debut work by author Cecelia Ahern, remains an original and quite a remarkable attempt on this subject , which I would say, is a naive and honest depiction of an enamored love.

Just the very thought of how much somebody loved you that he left you with a 'list' of things-to-do that would help you overcome the grief and make way for a better life for you..., this very thought calls for an applause for all those die-hard romantics (including those two ladies who recommended me :)  ...the 'love' is still so alive!!!!

In today's times where love is merely an easy adjective or an overused verb , the feeling is restricted to mushy romance of the movies or that song which gives you goosebumps ....am so enthralled that somebody recommended me this book ....a testimony to the pleasant fact that there are suckers of such love stories... living , thriving and 'feeling' the vagaries and veracity of an imperceptible thing called 'True Love'!

"...she was a woman with a million happy memories, who knew what it was like to experience true love and who was ready to experience more life, more love and make new memories. Whether it happened in ten months or ten years, Holly would obey Gerry's final message. Whatever lay ahead, she knew she would open her heart and follow where it led her.In the meantime, she would just live."

Thats the author's expression and summarization of an undying need for love and the mystery of what life holds.

As for me , it was not exactly a tearjerker, nor did I got much convinced with all that never-ending 'drink and dine'  ceremonies of Holly's friends and families that almost became a ritual for grief-stricken ladies...call it a 'cultural-backdrop' or ignore it for the debutant writer's brave attempt to rope in a pastiche' of characters to give some light and flight to the tale.

So lets just raise a toast, in the ritualistic fashion of this tale, for those who are in love and will always be....and celebrate the 'passion-in-a-relationship'  as aptly confessed by Daniel , towards the end...

“I am happy, Holly, I guess I just can't live without the drama.”

P.S. I Love It !

Moods of a Muse !

A vulnerable Indira, a Rekha who shed her mystique.. India's ace photographers talk of rare moments when their muses shed their inhibitions before the camera.

The gentleman poses! 

PhotographerI Gautam Rajadhyaksha 

I chose two suits, a shirt and a matching tie for him. At sharp 9.30 am, JRD Tata made his appearance for the photoshoot at his residence. There were several visitors and friends and he talked cheerfully. Skiing in Switzerland and French wine fascinated him. I brushed up my knowledge on these subjects and had a great conversation with him. We got talking and I got the most natural pictures.

Indira loved the Himalayas 

Photographer  Raghu Rai 

Once I made late prime minister Indira Gandhi walk along the Himalayas. She was particular about her posture when being photographed. She would watch like a hawk. Another time, I saw her in a rather tired state. One day, I went to her place, and when I reached the corridor, I saw her standing, holding the top of a door for support. She looked exhausted. I removed my camera but at that very moment, she turned. She didn’t allow me to shoot.

The PM climbed the tree..

Photographer  S Paul 

The editor of a women’s French magazine wanted some unusual pictures of Indira Gandhi, who was about to visit France. Indira called me at her residence and asked, ‘Tell me, what do you want me to do?’ And I asked her to sit on a tree that was in the courtyard, along with her grand-children. She was amused, smiled and climbed the tree which was about four feet high. Rahul and Priyanka followed their grandmother. That became a rare picture.

Pushed over the edge 

Photographer  Dabboo Ratnani 

I decided to create a 'walking off the rooftop effect’ with Abhishek Bachchan. I made him jump seven feet, from the water tank on his terrace to the ground below. I had to capture the moment his feet left the tank. Abhishek kept joking that I had decided to push him over the edge of his own building in 40 degree temperature!

Photographer  Avinash Pasricha 

 
As photo editor of the Span magazine, I was covering the 1962 visit of First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy. Those days, there were not too many news photographers nor was there any security problem. Once, Pandit Nehru was escorting Jackie up the steps in Rashtrapati Bhavan to the Ashoka Hall. Just as they reached the entrance, I asked them to stop and got a perfect shot.

And, they turned around...

Photographer  Jayesh Sheth

‘I am not Rekha’

I went to the location and Rekha followed in a simple cotton salwar-kurta. I started shooting. Some people asked for an autograph. ‘But I am not Rekha,’ she said. 

 Akshay Kumar tied a string of 10 crabs in his ponytail. ‘You will get just a second to shoot before the crabs start biting me,’ he said.

Kitten interrupted!

PhotographerI Avinash Pasricha

I was shooting a brochure for Pandit Ravi Shankar on his 75th birthday around his house in Lodi Estate. His wife, Sukanya and daughter Anushka had recently joined him from England. There was a kitten running around the house and it suddenly jumped on the dining table. I got a beautiful shot of Ravi Shankar and Sukanya together, playing with the kitten, like little children. 

Source : Times Life.

A Single Shot Can End The War

This picture shows the six US Marines raising a flag atop Mount Suribachi during the battle of Iwo Jima in World War II.


I remember having seen this picture in History books or some where else and it remained etched in my memory but I never came close to knowing the real "facts" or people behind this historic photograph. Until I saw this movie "Flag of Our Fathers" , last night.
And what a surprise !
It turned out to be a sort of revelation ...for, it depicted the life of those men who raised that flag in a manner that one could hardly believe!
Yes, these men were "Heroes" ...for what they did in the War....but for this very photograph, their life was never the same again.
A very compelling account of the after -effects on the minds and souls of the War 'Heroes' who actually fought and braved the bombs and the bullets but could not survive the act of glorification of this photograph... a story narrated effectively by producer/director Clint Eastwood.
As always, I am fascinated by stories based on the two World Wars....I just love the theme and the History and the mammoth size of it all....and especially if its by the legends of film-making...the likes of Steven Speilberg and Clint Eastwood. And this movie had all what I wanted to see...an 'inside' account of how the battle was fought...every detailing...the machinery, the tanks, the guns, the war-ships, the majestic battle scenes...and the luxury of watching History unfold before your eyes in the comfort of your couch or bed....
...and then it was so interesting to know the real facts of how this picture considered to be the only photograph to win the Pulitzer Prize for Photography in the same year as its publication, and came to be regarded in the United States as one of the most significant and recognizable images of the war, and possibly the most reproduced photograph of all time!

Ten years after the flag-raising, Rosenthal ( the man who took the photograph) wrote:

" Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen the men start the flag up. I swung my camera and shot the scene. That is how the picture was taken, and when you take a picture like that, you don't come away saying you got a great shot. You don't know."


Read all about it here :
Raising_the_Flag_on_Iwo_Jima



Along with " Saving Private Ryan", " Letters from Iwo Jima", this spectacle " The Flag of our Fathers" will remain in my collection as one of the greatest war movies ever made...and the greatest tales ever told...by the greatest filmmakers !

Namaste London !

I think I have a strange 'connection' with London ...or why is it that I keep missing my flight 'connections' whenever I land in this city.
Ofcourse, I have my London Dreams ...I always wanted to visit this beautiful city right next to the list with New York ...and I used this city so many times in my various stories and subplots ....not to mention the eternal love story I wrote 'Long Lost Love' in my college days.

But to arrive and depart from Heathrow Airport is a different ballgame altogether.

Circa 2007 , In my last trip from US , I was rerouted to Heathrow from Chicago and was made to spend 7 hours at the Airport before I could catch my next flight back to Delhi. My initial horror turned into a 'responsibility matrix' wherien I had to take care of another passenger (a typical middle aged Indian women :) to make her reach our common destination (saddi Dilli).


Siiting at Heathrow, I wanted to break the panes and just fly out...over to the Big Ben and the Thames ....but.



Circa 2009, on my way to US...I missed my connection at Heathrow and was again rerouted to Chicago and along came Polly...oops Dolly...or whatever her name was...Mrs. Chadda who didnt know English (or Hindi) but was heading to LA with a valid passport :)
SO history repeated and so did the matrix !

But THATS THAT....why in the world ...I had to again miss the flight on my way back to India....
I was there 20 minutes before the scheduled departure....wow!

"Sorry, Its too late !"
Hmm.....so these British Airways can do away with anything , I thought..." so what is the next available flight?"

"Its after 9 hours, sir"

OKAY......time to say 'Namaste"

A room in Hotel Renaissance, a Lunch coupon and a bus to and from Hotel to Heathrow....all set.

"What is the nearest place which we can cover within the short time frame "(cutting out the transportation, checking in and out and returning back)

"Well, you can go to Southall"

Oh yes...the name rang a bell.....right since childhood, Southall meant 'Punjab-in-England' (pronounce : ing LAND )

Here are a few moments from that visit

' Smelling the chill in the Air '

'Waiting for Bus No. 105 to Southall'



'on the way '





"Welcome Ji"










Well, no surprises ..here's what London's official website has to say about it :
"Sometimes known as Little India, Southall is a lively and diverse community in the London Borough of Ealing, West London.There are strong Indian and Pakistani roots here mixed with communities from all over the world.You'll find women in colourful saris, pavement food stalls selling samosas and Indian sweets, and bright fabrics hanging in shop fronts.Add to this the bhangra music in the air, and the hustle and bustle of a vibrant local economy, all of which makes a visit to Southall unforgettable."


Absolutely True. But the real surprise was this :

Sri Guru Singh Sabha Gurdwara

Sri Guru Singh Sabha Gurdwara, on Havelock Road, Southall is the largest Sikh Temple outside India and welcomes visitors.

It's a stunning building finished in marble and granite with a gilded dome and stained glass windows. Well worth a visit.

With just an hour left to return, I wanted to see some of the English Architecture and buildings...and did see some of them

More pictures on facebook : http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=124876&id=543399479&l=2e8210c115


Hmmm.....so that was my tryst with London...ofcourse, I would like to come again (not in this manner, though ) and see what I have been missing all this while.
I am hoping my destiny would bring me here sometime and make me live my 'London Dreams'.

So I finally caught my last flight back home and that part of the journey was as exciting and memorable as I met somebody almost after 12 years and some 33,000 feet above in the air !!

Well, that would be coming later....till then....'Namaste London'