Chola Maati Ke Raam...

Since it is being acclaimed as an honest take on “real India” let me start with a bit of honesty myself. The only reason I watched the movie was because someone close made an appearance and didn’t disappoint the least, but more on that later.

I didn’t hate the movie.

I thought I will, as I hate everything in that genre. I hated Arvind Adiga’s White Tiger, I hated the part in Swades where the poor farmer couldn’t pay back the rent, I can’t stand Om Puri, Naseer, Shabana and their ilk. How dare they? How dare they show me what I conveniently choose not to see? How dare they take me out of my comfort zone? I love my blinkers; big, dark, shiny and designer.

I walked into the Multiplex armed with salted popcorn, diet coke and chips. Comfort food you know, as this was going to be a journey outside the comfort zone. Plush 200 rupee seats, nice airconditioning, digital cinema at its best. Around 25 of us in the hall. It was an adventure.

I remember Punita and I were discussing that cinemas in India should stock low salt, low fat popcorns when Natha threw up. And we thought it’ll be all down-hill from there. But thank God Anusha (or was it Amir) decided that it will be disconcerting for people like me to see “reality” and she kept it to a bare minimum. So not a lot of footage wasted on the hungry and the deprived. There were enough punches and enough use of Maa, Bahen and Tatti to make the audience laugh and cringe. Enough stereotypes to keep them engaged; the corrupt politicians, the morally bankrupt media, the useless bureaucrats and an in-effective system. Many an evening has been spent debating and agonizing over the hopelessness of the situation India is in today, and it was nice to see the movie portray this without being patronizing.

As we walked out after the end credits had finally displayed the name we were looking for (the surname was a nice touch), we nodded knowingly at other patrons. There were a few comments on ‘how real’ as people made their way to the multi cuisine food court after the mid-day show.

I don’t want to sound like a pseudo intellectual by trying to critique the movie either way. Any effort towards that will be an affront to the collective wisdom of Anusha, Mahmood and their team. For me the movie works. That one expression of disillusioned disgust on Bhanu’s face summed the movie up for me. I might be biased as I was the only one trying to whistle when he made his first entry but then so be it.

On a macro level, it’s heartening to see UTV come this far from their first release (something with some Khan that I can’t remember for the life of me). This is good news for Indian cinema.

Just one parting thought. The amount of money we spent on this adventure might have been enough to pay off the debts of atleast one Natha…..

Nizaam Ki Bahu

The Hyderabad airport is ranked No. 1 in the world. Its only when you read the small print you realize that it's number No. 1 amongst airports of a certain size. Its like saying Dehradun is the best airport in the world amongst airports that cater to 134 passengers every day.

But cynicism aside, the new airport at Hyderabad is nice. And here I mean functional nice, not the over-the-top-opulent-nice a la Dubai or you-can-almost-live-here-convenience-nice a la Changi. But what makes it stand apart from its Delhi, Mumbai and Bangalore cousins is the 6 lane road connecting it to Cyberabad, once Naidu's dream and today the adobe of IT Giants.

It was past midnight when I landed and as the taxi entered the 6 lane road, the first signboard read, no autos (I think they meant auto rickshaws), two-wheelers or trucks. I started dreaming of a day when similar roads will adorn all cities in India when suddenly the taxi screeched to a halt and the driver started cursing. Amongst the various alankaars in choicest Hyderabaadi Hindi, I understood 3 words...Nizaam Ki Bahu. My eyes started scanning the darkness for some damsel in distress from the Nizaam's family but nothing. And then I saw them, sitting in the middle of that six lane highway, as oblivious to the world around them as Sheila Dikshit is to the plight of Delhiites, 5 buffaloes, doing what they do best, nothing.

Welcome to India, said that little voice inside me. Right through the move from London to Hyderabad I had managed to mute this voice, using a mix of threat, logic and mollycoddle. But this incidence gave it a shot of Red Bull. I hate that little voice, more so when it has a sarcastic edge to it.

It has been almost two weeks since that night. And apart from the occasional barb from the left flank, the voice has been more or less silent. I have started to realise that this voice thrives in the company of my other half. And since we have not spent much time together in the last couple of weeks, its not getting enough encouragement. But all that will change from tomorrow.

Womancipation

“Don’t you care for human progress?” Miss Chancellor went on.

“I don’t know – I never saw any. Are you going to show me some?”

The Bostonians, Henry James, 1886

Replace Miss Chancellor with Ms Brinda Karat and the Southerner Basil Ransom with any of those who were forcibly removed from the Upper House of Indian Parliament trying to voice their protest against the Women’s Reservation Bill and lo and behold, the dialogue finds the same relevance in today’s India as it found in post civil war Boston. Its all about emancipation honey…as they say.

Now this is not an us versus them debate. That debate got over in the Garden of Eden. This is about whose emancipation are we talking about here. Proponents of this bill were quick to point out that in India the representation of women in the parliament is around 10%, and that it is much lower than even Pakistan or Afghanistan. But honestly, does anyone in their right minds believe that women in India have lesser opportunities than places where, as Bill Maher calls it, women are supposed to live in beekeeper suits.

Emancipation is not about representation in politics. Infact in a country like India it should be anything but. Many an intellectual hour has been spent discussing the ugly quagmire that Indian polity has sunk into. And I believe women in India are smart, so smart that they know which profession stinks and which doesn’t. Women politicians in India were either born in politics, married into politics (and here I use the term marriage very loosely) or had an accident which severely impacted their ability to know right from wrong. Does any of them need emancipation?

The media has been fawning over India’s first lady on the determination she showed in pushing this bill through. The same media did not stop for a moment to do an analysis of how many of the 59 woman MPs currently in the Lower House are daughters, daughter-in-laws, wives (again using loosely), mothers etc of men in Politics. I can bet my shirt that the number would be more than 80%. If the reservation bill becomes a law, and I still have serious doubts as I believe this drama was a successful ploy by the government to take people’s minds away from rising inflation, 59 will become 182. And I can still bet my shirt that we will not witness a dip in that 80% figure.

All this talk about up-liftment of women. Making them equals. And how? By turning the Parliament into a family circus. In-fact they can then film episodes of Family Fortunes inside the central hall. What about women cleaning up the political mess? Its not about using surf or harpic. Its about bringing in a value system and values are inculcated at homes and schools while growing up, not in public life.

Emancipation is needed. But not at the top. Its needed at grassroots. How about bringing in a law that makes not sending kids under 12 to school, a non bailable offence. How about capital punishment for female infanticide. How about a bill that ensures equal wages. How about a bill that guarantees primary healthcare. There are many such measures that need accountable implementation. But these measure do not get political mileage, reservation does.

I don’t want to sound like a naysayer. I am all for having equal representation in all walks of life. My doubts stem from the fact that Indian politics has become a self-serving institution, and this bill can become an instrument in making it even more so.

Like Basil Ransom in The Bostonians, I want to see Human Progress.

Union Budget and the toilet seat

The Delhi economist types rated it 7.9 on 10. Bombay corporatewallas rated it 9 on 10 and immediately set about working new direct and indirect permutations and combinations. Markets reacted positively but the opposition walked out. Makings of a pot boiler. Union Budget of the Republic of India 2010-11.

Its an annual Feb fare. The Brazilians have their Carnival and we Indians have the Union Budget. Every year some chosen few from Polity, Business and the Media lobby, anticipate, participate, watch, analyze, criticize and politicize what is supposed to chart the destiny of a billion people. Or does it really? Does the budget actually matter to these billions. Increasingly the budget has become the playground for this nexus or troika of Politicians, Businessmen and Media. The union budget is of this troika, for this troika and by this troika.

I have been a party to this process. Infact I can honestly claim that my career was built on the platform of the Union Budget. My first honest job was to do an analysis of the Union Budget of 1994 as an equity analyst. The exercise so successful that the next year I did it for what was then the largest business magazine in India. But 16 years later as I watched Mr Mukherjee deliver his budget speech I first felt déjà vu and then I felt dejected. Cheated infact. Because all that has changed between the budget of 1994 and that of 2010 is numbers. Same speech, similar attempts at weak humour and the same opposition reaction, although this time they took it a little too far. So all this noise of the great Indian success story and all we have to show for it is numbers in the budget? And if it is about numbers, then there are some numbers that I want to discuss.

Very recently I was reading the UNDP report on Mumbai (has to be Mumbai as this is not the Bombay we know and dream). Fifty-five percent of the city’s population live in slums and everyone knows it. But there was a statement that shook me. In these slums, one toilet seat is shared between 81 people( I am not making this up. A minister of the Govt. has duly signed this report). I knew toilet seats are a problem, anyone who has travelled in a local train knows they are a problem, but didn’t know the problem is so grave, despite Slumdog Millionaire showing it in graphic detail. But what appalls me is this does not find any mention in the budget speech. Or the fact that India’s per capita water availability is one of the lowest in the world, or the fact that more than half of India’s women and children under 12 are anemic, or there are more homeless in India than Europe’s entire population and the list goes on.

These are not new numbers. These numbers are known to the mandarins of North/South or in whatever block the Finance Ministry sits. But they, or rather all of us have become completely or comfortably numb to these numbers. And it is this numbness that makes us prepare policy documents year on year that have absolutely no relevance to more than half the people they are meant to serve.

Once in my previous avatar as a journalist I had asked the then Finance Minister, the man who currently runs the Home Office, for a solution to this problem. And in his usual cocky way he responded by asking me to give a solution as he had had his share of problem-mongers. I was too naïve to answer then. But today I want to ask these questions and if prompted I even have answers. And very simple answers.

How about a simple budget speech. Leave the 2 rupee excise and the 3 rupee custom duty for those to whom it matters. The only thing the budget should touch on is:


- In 20 years every citizen of the country will get clean water, basic healthcare, basic education, food and shelter
- This will be monitored year on year and the goals for next year are XYZ
- The government will allocate PQZ amount on infrastructure which will be monitored quarterly henceforth
- Any item proposed in the budget and not completed by a committed time will result in the immediate removal of the secretary and the minister in-charge of that department
- By 2020 India will aim for 20 gold medals in the Olympics and progress will be measured quarterly
- The measure of the country’s success will be India’s standing in the UNDP rankings and the Government takes a responsibility to improve this by atleast 10 points by next budget.

The day we bring down the per capita toilet seat availability to a respectable number, we can go back to the Troika budgets. Till then, let’s have some honesty.

Any takers?

Indi(an)gnity of Labour

Mumbai Airport, Jan 21st, 1:30 PM. I was waiting for my domestic connection, and having travelled “cattle class” (is it politically incorrect for everyone or just ministers?) the previous night, was trying to position myself on the uncomfortable steel chair in a way that increased the probability of a nap and minimized the chances of my snores inducing a sonic boom. And there I saw him. All six feet 3 inches (don’t ask me how I know such details, not important in the present context) of him in that crisp white and blue uniform, aviator glasses and pilot written all over his gait.

It is this imagery more than anything else that inspires hundreds of young men, and increasing women, to spend millions in order to get their PPLs and CPLs. He walked as if he owned the airport, and maybe he did. Because right behind him walked a diminutive young man, in an airline attendant’s uniform, carrying, or rather pulling Mr Pilot’s Flight Case. And clarification, I am not talking of Mr Pilot the politician. Politicians in India, especially the born leader variety, have a right to have people carry their bags, shoes and more important their incompetence and lack of accountability on their shoulders without complaining. But here the person in question is the flying variety.

For those uninitiated in things aviation, a flight case is this leather bag that Pilots or sometimes Medical representatives, just kidding, carry. In airports around the world, if there is one thing that creates Pilot solidarity, its their Flight Case. That square leather boxy bag, the more worn out the better. No self respecting pilot, even if he is flying Aeroflot or its Indian avatar Air India, will be seen anywhere in the vicinity of an airport without their Flight Cases (I once made the mistake of comparing a Flight Case to a Ladies Purse. Still trying to figure out who got offended more, the Pilot or the lady).

So here is a strapping young man, having his bag carried by someone else. What’s wrong in that you might ask. Happens everywhere in India. Many CXOs have their laptops carried by assistants. Don’t we have maids or servants doing our chores? And the other argument is, in a country of a billion plus people, this is another way of employment generation.

Now hold your thought there. If Mr Pilot had personally employed someone to carry his bag around, I have no problems with that. His money, his life. Famous stand-up comic Lewis Black wanted to employ a private lady ball-washer once he had enough money. To each their own. But the Flight Case carrier in this case was directly or indirectly in the employment of Air India. And here I have a problem. And I hope you do too.

In my honest opinion, this problem is symptomatic of everything that is wrong with Air India, that shining example of Sarkari-Tarkari gone bad. Here is an airline struggling with flight delays, dirty aircrafts, pathetic service, the list goes on. But Mr Pilot can’t roll his own Flight Case. However I think this problem is deeper than bad governance, this highlights our feudal mindset. Any work, as long as we can afford to have it done by someone else, should be done by someone else.

In a rather heated discussion a client in London once told me Indians make great programmers but lousy Project Managers and Architects. I didn’t agree and like a true salesman told him how many do you want and what skill and rate. But in my heart I knew he was right. Management in India is not skill based, its tenure based. If you are not managing a team, you have not made it in life. Every programmer worth his salt should make it to Project Manager within six years. If not, he will command no respect from his peers. He wont even get married as no self respecting father will give his daughter to someone who is not a manager.

Individual excellence has often been sacrificed on the altar of a feudal notion of success that is measured by how many people one administers (manages is not the right word) rather than performance. In fact the entire country is run by people who spent years mugging up two subjects and did a crash course of Competition Success Review to pass the Administrative Services exams. And these guys then run Air India where the organization’s vision of flying in comfort seems to apply not to passengers but to the pilots and the crew.

I was once waiting at the aircraft door for my daughter’s stroller in Los Angeles. All other passengers had left and the pilot asked me what I was waiting for. When I told him, he put down his flight case (and they do carry their own), climbed down the stairs to the luggage hold, retrieved the stroller and brought it up for us. He not only had a happy passenger, he helped in turning around the aircraft faster, which in turn increases profitability. Between that and having the flight case carried by someone else, there is big chasm. And India’s success depends on how quickly we fill it.

Avatar: The Bollywood Connection

Dear Mr Cameron

I finally found out why Manmohan Desai died a broken man. That great master, who made people change their blood groups to “Rh ka khoon” and invented the “three in one online blood transfusion” (he was the only director ever to be nominated for the Noble (sic) prize for medicine but he withdrew his nomination himself, opting for The Film Unfair award) was heart-broken the day he found out that some White man in Hollywood had copied his dream script, which was in turn ‘inspired’ by thousands of works of art from Bollywood, and patented it under the name “Avatar”.

There is a lot of trade buzz on how you were waiting for the right technology before you embarked on Avatar. What bull. You were waiting for people to forget Manmohan Desai and his dream. But Mr Cameron, you cannot fool all of the people all the time, especially Bollywood fans, who know a thing or two about originality. To make matters worse, I waited for the entire end credits to roll and there was not even a mention of the Bollywood greats who inspired your Magnum Opus. You see, we have a code of conduct in Mumbai. We pay people Rs 1 Lakh for the story of a Rs 300 crore movie. By that logic if your movie does a Billion dollars….you do the math.

There is a lot of controversy on how 3 Idiots is based 50% or 60% on Chetan Bhagat’s book but no one is talking about how “Avatar” is based entirely on Bollywood works. And that too blatant plagiarism. How else do you explain a movie which starts with the story of Judwa brothers who get separated. Now given its death which parts their ways but then again death is a path to Nirvana as is Kumbh Mela.

The basic plot has been so often repeated in Bollywood right from “Namak Haram” to that classic “Praan Jaye Par Shaan Ne Jaye”, which in turn, are a direct rip off from Singur and Bastar and hundreds of incidents in India where the poor are uprooted from their land. Infact even the name of the indigenous tribe in “Avatar” is so close to “Naxal” that it cannot be sheer coincidence (see the first two alphabets are the same).

I can go on and on. Scene by scene. But the ultimate inspiration was the entire Na’avi tribe singing “O Palanhare”…a la Lagaan when faced with adversity. And then following it up with “Shirdi Waale..Sai baba” ..when they are praying for that mother figure to get better.

And what about the “Ramayana” angle? I am surprised the BJP has not claimed Royalties from you. From times immemorial, every calendar in every shop in India has depicted the original Avatar, Jai Sri Ram, in blue. Isn’t it uncanny that you use the same depiction? Tell me honestly, didn’t you lift the look and color of your Avatar from that Amit Hardware Store Calendar, Gumti No 5, Kanpur? And what about using the Vaanar Sena, the Bhalus, the Garudas to fight against the evil? And the floating mountains? How else can you explain it except with Nal and Neel?

But rest easy Mr Cameron sir, we are a very forgiving people. You will not see any law suits or claims from India. Not because we condone plagiarism. It’s because we believe in creative inspirations. Throughout its history, the Indian Cinema, especially the Bollywood variety, has been inspired by other works of art. Our first attempt is to search within, as the great saints say. Not within ourselves Sir, within India, especially down south. And if that fails we look west, or east because we know far west is actually east, or rather Korea. And it is this inspirational trait that makes us take pride in the fact that you are now a brother. We are happy that our work inspired you. And you see, successful inspiration breeds further inspiration. So Bollywood has already started working on a few projects inspired by your own. Every producer and director worth their salt is currently analyzing the Avatar DVD. The DVD is not yet released you say? You make me laugh Sir.

But honestly tell me something, and I promise to keep it a trade secret, how on earth did you do it. I understand computer-shamputer and effects-sheffects, but how did you manage to show emotion in that girl’s eyes. We have been trying forever to get real human beings to emote but it has been decades since we last saw such or rather any emotion from any of our actresses. Except when we tell them the song sequence will not be shot abroad or their payment will be delayed by a week. That, in-fact, is a brilliant idea. Next time I will can that look and use it in my film. Lack of continuity you say, well our audience is used to that and a lot more. See sir, even writing to you has been inspirational.

Another issue, the organizers of The Film Unfair awards have asked me to pass this message to you. They are willing to nominate your film in 3-4 categories and will even give you one or two awards (that’s really generous of them as you see “Paa” and “3 Idiots” have already been promised most of the awards this year) on the condition that you will arrange for “Neytiri” to come and do an Item Number at the awards. See sir, what an opportunity. I will call you to discuss this.

Yours Truly