Man of the moment...Horee

A dear friend celebrated his birthday recently. Mom calls him Horee, with her typical Bengali touch. He has bowled her over with his voice. Sample this conversation on the ashtami (eighth day) of Durga Puja celebrations - Mom wants to wish him good luck for his exams...I hand over the phone to her:

Mom: Hello! My darling! How are you?
Horee: (bowled over, laughing) Nomoshkar kakima...aami bhaalo aachi..tumi kemon? (Namaste aunty, I'm fine. How about you?)

A warm-hearted person, Horee would make a great uncle for my to-be-born kids, I always tell him. With him, I'm at ease with my thoughts. I've often debated whether there is something really like a 'best friend'. And I've also wondered where does he stand in my life - is he a best friend, or just 'one of my best friends'? In the end, I've realised that ranking friends is a total non-issue.

Getting back to the man of the moment, I was casually introduced to him at a coaching class. There I was, poring over microscopes and there he was, just around the corner, talking about a loo that he'd written about, in a popular teen-mag. Oh by the way, he has this strange stimulating attachment with toilets, loos and commodes. All of them, somehow get his creative juices flowing and every other day, I'm asked to sample some of his literary delicacies.

He's one of the most enchanting sculptors of sentences. Today, if I have any standards in reviewing written matter, the standards have been set by him alone . And therefore, he's spoilt me. I can no longer digest mediocre literature that I come across. I remember having trashed write-ups by editorial team-members while editing my college tabloid recently. All of it, because I thought that their piece of literature was junk, compared to Horee's writing standards.

I've assigned him the responsibility of writing my biography. This decision comes in the wake of my observations and calculations of his attitude towards his life in general. He has met with several ups and downs in life and taken all of them in his stride, saying, "It's okay. As long as it adds another interesting page to my autobiography, I'm happy." With such a belief, I'd imagine he'd be willing to remain adventurous all the way. And that would make his autobiography worth a read.

Both of us have also had our share of ups and downs. We became friends as mere travellers in local trains running in the wee hours. For once, I've mistakenly been bruised by the sting of this Scorpio. We were distant for a while, but it was the very same sting which had the healing touch. With Horee, it's his forgiving nature, that's helped cheer up things.

He's my Intellectual Sparring Partner, my googly-woogly bear, my compere...and I say this, just as I care. You are God's gift, a lion-hearted pen-wielding soldier.

Here's to you, Horee...cheers!

Raindrops keep falling on my head

You’re not alone when you’re walking in the rains, sheltered under an umbrella. There is the constant chatter of the raindrops falling on the rooftop. Pitter-patter, they go on and on. Sometimes (quite often in a city like Mumbai), their chatter often becomes highly abusive, if its pouring. Their grievances, their trials and tribulations…Oh, you feel like turning the umbrella over and mouthing them a few from your own vocabulary.

I almost did so, on Tuesday, as I made my way home from college. Splat, I opened my umbrella and they began. Two armies were battling it out in the war of wits. And hits.

“Vilasrao almost escaped today. Had I not sprung a leak that moment, the CM’s mountain sized water-mark on the sidewalk would have almost caught the media glare. And it would have been proved, that the soft-spoken minister also has a soft-spoken bladder. Damn.. we could have exposed him!”

The other army chirped, with a ‘we-told-you-so’ expression: “Not just him. It’s his entire motley of ministers. Did you know, there’s a special comode in the Mantralaya, which R.R.Patil favours. We think, its some lucky charm or something. But he always heads for that commode everytime he gets a call.”

“Gets a call? From whom?” retorted the other army, with their drops poised in anticipation.

“Call from nature, you assholes. Seems like you havn’t had enough of his moral policing. We guys miss Julie and Champa at D.N.Road now. It was amazing sliding down their curves, slowly and discreetly as they gyrated in the rain…”

Just at that moment, a Matador just whizzed past me, spraying me as I tried to shield myself, with my umbrella. While doing so, the muddy water splashed the fantasies of the raindrop armies out of their reverie. The jolt was quick and somehow in this aggravation, the armies grew even more aggressive and started pounding hard. Tapku, penetrated the umbrella’s cover and alighted softly near my earlobes.

“She’s sent a message for you,” he whispered softly.

“Who?” I asked, puzzled and pleasantly tickled by his presence.

“She, who loves the rains!” Tapku was bubbling with excitement.

“Who doesn’t love the rains, eh? Especially with people like you around, tickling my earlobes as if they were the folds of your…”

“Shut up!” he interrupted. “You very well know whom I’m talking about.”

I pretended to lift one of my fingers to shove him off on to the street, when – “Stop!! Stop, you son of a bitch! At least hear out the message. Then do whatever you want,” he said, frightened. “I was blessed to rest on her lips as she whispered the message to me for the first time,” he said, blushing.

“Is it?” I asked, teasing him. “Anyways, what did she say?”

“After a long days.”

Silence. Tapku was smiling triumphantly.

“What??” I asked, confused than ever before.

“That’s it!” he said, smiling and pattering his eyelids.

“What was the message?” I asked, firmly this time.

“After a long days,” he said, again. “That was the message.”

“Huh?? What am I supposed to make out of it?” I asked, now irritated. Honestly, I hadn’t hoped for something as nonsensical as this.

“I don’t know,” Tapku replied, yet again battering his eyelids in a manner that makes Dukes go wild. “But isn’t it romantic?”

“Romantic, my ass,” I answered disgustedly. “Now, I know what’s your degree of romance.”

“You do?” he jumped, eager than ever before. “Then, tell me,” he beckoned, slowly tickling me cheeks, “what is my degree of romance?”

“Piss off,” I said. And I flung him off my cheek.

Raindrops, I tell you. Every drop with its mildish tenderness, cajoles moments out of your memory. And as you ruminate on them, as to why he / she said so and how they said it, you find yourself, smiling, frowning or even giggling. A walk in the rain is not merely an exercise dodging potholes, but also an exercise jogging across those memories, once in a while. As she rightly said – After a long days. On this occasion, it was said by a friend of mine, not exactly a master in English verbiage, but yet she wanted to put across the thought of meeting after a long time.

Meanwhile the umbrella’s rooftop members had begun on another round of pounding my umbrella. Evidently it seemed, Vilasrao has sprung a leak again.

Shiv Sankees, not Shiv Sainiks

...and there I was, hanging on to his collar, my other arm flailing wildly in thin air as the raindrops battered my skin as if sanctifying his act. One feet rested on the footboard and the other bobbing wildly outside like a towel on a clothes-line. The wind made it even worse and all I could was stare blankly at his face in fright.

I still maintain, I'd done nothing brave in asking the few puerile Shiv-Sainiks to behave themselves, crowding illegally into the first class compartment. Their cacophony wasn't music to our ears. The other commuters merely tched tched in disgust. I was there too, a representative of a generation awakened (Right, Mr.Rakesh Mehra?) to fight for something which I believed was right.

Initially when these saffron banded, ruffian looking boys entered the compartment, they brought along with them the nauseating smell of booze. But that was not the end of it. There was dirty talk that followed, apparently about a certain lady that one of them had dumped. Triumphant about it, they were celebrating vociferously and their conversation would have given the Censor Board much fodder to chop (or rather, chomp on). It was numbing, especially when you could see the partially crowded ladies comartment wince annoyingly at their foul language and rash behavior.

The Rang De Basanti spirit is a dicey feeling. Sometimes, it overwhelms you so much that you forget the situation you're faced with and firmly believe in righteousness. But the resulting feeling is an unbelievable calm and serenity of thought, wherein nothing, absolutely nothing can shake your resolve, forget breaking it. And with such firm resolve I confronted them.

"Excuse me, do you realise this is a first class compartment? Do you have the required ticket?" I ask.
A sheepish grin followed as one of the four men startlingly looked up at me. "Are you the TTE?"
"No, I'm not...but I must request you not to create chaos in the compartment..." I replied flatly.
"Huh? Who're you to say so?" he hollered back. This time, I felt several faces peek around from the rest of the compartment. Everybody's eyes rested on us. That's Mumbai for you. Any minor confrontation, any minor abuse becomes an event, a spectacle which people watch with craned necks. And that's exactly what happened here. I was expecting some support from the rest of the 10-odd men in the compartment.
"What are you going to do?" he continued.
"Nothing. Just don't create pandemonium in the train." I retorted calmly.
"Why? What will you do? Throw us off the train? Eh?" And saying so, he rose.

A slap followed on my neck, which I could not manage to defend. A few men from the other corner of the train let go off their I-pods and Palmtops momentarily and tried to come to my aid, but this fellow had already dragged me to the door. The train was running swiftly, almost adding fuel to the proceedings.

And then he almost threw me off. Almost. I clung on to his collar, as the rain battered my eyelids, the scenes passing around me in a hazy marquee. My heartbeats almost climaxed into a pounding and I gasped to suck in wet air laden with raindrops. Suddenly, I felt a great rush inside me and I was pulled back into the train. Unable to breathe, I choked for air.

I was knocked out.

From what I was told when I woke up a few minutes later, just in time before my station arrived, the burly young men were in fact Shiv-Sainiks and it was the leader of their gang, who could have almost flung me at a passing railway pole.

I thanked my fellow commuters for the help, but silently brooded over the fact, that it was me alone who rose to pick a fight. Was I wrong in doing so? Or was I just trying to find a cause to take Shiv-Sainiks to task?

PS: Make that Shiv-Sankees, please.

The spy who shagged Jaswant

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect - the release of his book ‘A Nature’s Call to Honour’ (Wasn’t it ‘A Call to Honour’?) which supposedly has a mention about the mole in Narasimha Rao’s PMO. The current PM, the very mohan man, Manmohan has dared Jaswant Singh to shag the spy out of the closet. When last heard, Jaswant had done it.

But what one cannot deny is the focus that his sheepish narrative has received. If a certain DNA reviewer’s remarks are anything to go by, Jaswant has missed a golden chance to give an inside view of a “fascinating period in history”. (Bunty says Jaswant’s next book is going to be titled ‘One Night at Nature’s Call Centre’ about Jaswant’s nightmarishly long sojourn in Rashtrapati Bhavan’s shauchalay.)

Meanwhile let us treat ourselves to one of the most incredibly long and inane sentences in English literature lifted from Jaswant’s current literary accomplishment…

“in governance, to meet any form of challenge, such are routinely presented decisions will always have to be made and always in a relative void of information, for information is never complete, never in time, never focused and never entirely relevant, because no brief, however well prepared, will ever be adequate, no theory however astute will or can provide the needed insight, certainly not for long and theory by itself is never able to sufficiently absorb information and to then convert that into a series of effective actions…”

God only knows what point he was trying to make here. (Bunty says, the ‘God’ here could be the ‘mole’ he talked about. Smart Bunty.)

--------

Is our Prime minister too docile? I admire the fact that he’s the most highly qualified PM of the world, but at times, you need fire to retaliate to something as much as a terrorist strike. I guess Sonia just doesn’t do well enough to strike that match, or else, our supposed ‘puppet’ PM would have genuinely given fiery speeches.

My belief in thinking so stems from the very day he addressed the press after the 7/11 blasts. I believed atleast an occurrence like this, would arouse him from his ennui with the cabinet members.

Parag Kansara (The Great Indian Laughter Challenge finalist) offers some hope. ‘Socho…oolta socho…how would it be, if one day at a press conference, Manmohan would fling around his clothes just like Saurav Ganguly did at Lords…? He would remove his turban, swing it round and round, hurling abuses at Musharraf…’

-----

Kurukshetra always has been a place for events. Mahabharata was the greatest of them and the recent Princely tragedy was treated as an ‘event’ too, by the media. Going by the non-stop coverage, news-anchors were reduced to mere commentators. The best part – Prince is going to be given Rs.5 lakhs as compensation by the state government. Why? Just because it was an unfortunate incident and the poor emaciated kid fell into it.

Ah..! Now I know, why Johny Joseph hasn’t got those pot-holes removed from Mumbai’s streets!

Good-bye people, I’m off for a night in one of those deep-potholes. But before I leave, I must leave a tip-off for the media, shouldn’t I? And who better than Zee News!

Rude jolt of rudeness

Mumbai is not the repository of polished culture, courtesy and soft spoken denizens. Such culture and polite manners are expected when you're in a Western Country, everyone's happy (never mind George Bush) and polite exchanges are flowing as smooth as the Thames.

So what makes the recent Reader's Digest survey a topic of such debate? Is Mumbai indeed one of the rudest cities in thw world? The media has had a field day discussing the issue. Precious editorials have been devoted to it, guest columnists have been invited to write about their experiences in Mumbai, Mumbai Mirror reporter Bapu Deedwania purposefully dropped a bunch of papers at road crossing, only to end up photographed by her shutterbug and appear on the cover page and to prove that somebody did help her pick them up. That's not all - even Karan Thapar hosted a show on CNBC TV-18 figuring out with the help of several icons of the city, whether the survey had hit alarm buttons on Mumbaikar's manners.

While the survey elaborated on how an average Mumbai-ite never held doors for you, hardly said Thank-you's or Sorry's, what strikes through is the fact that the survey would have been held true for all of India. Why pigeon-hole Mumbai on the rude-oh-meter? Perhaps the survey was limited to certain famous cities of the world, but isnt it a obvious question that what holds true in one city may not follow a similar pattern in the other?

I'm willing to believe that the RD survey is a mere conjecture, wherein an inference has been arrived at without situational proof. Every great city has its individual class, which is mirrored by the people who reside, travel and identify with it. Mumbai, the potpourri of the rich and the poor, the haughty and the meek, the winners and the losers, builders and destroyers, the corrupt and the principled - similarly has its own value culture. Chivalry isn't a part of Indian psyche and hence, even though we may treat guests as God, we often leave them to fend for themselves until of course they refer back to us.

However, there is no denying that Indians are helpful when it comes to guidance. This country is full of experts , nevertheless also the financial capital of the country, Mumbai is a place where the educated class thrive. But do Mumbaikars indeed have the chutzpah to slam a door on your face? I'm not sure. If you've faced it, you need to watch your nose, next time around.

On the other hand, let us not forget the limitations of a survey like this. Notice the Health pages in the daily newspaper? Every other day a new survey result emerges and a study arrives at its conclusion - but how much do we adhere to it? Chocolates are good for the womb, chocolates are good for sexual life, smoking can cause your child to grow excess hair on his hair-lobes...
How many of these surveys have actually impacted our lives with such immediacy that we take this RD survey personally?

Mumbai may surely have its own way of dealing with it, by having its own share of stories to defy the survey. It is true, that Thank-you's and Sorry's are not the most often heard words on Indian streets. But there is no denying that Indians are the most warmest and friendliest people on this planet. Ask any tourist or traveller and he'll echo the same sentiments. In a country that is bound together by so many bonds in the face of diversity, unemployment, corruption, starvation, poverty, illiteracy, it is infact the smile on the faces of our people that has taken many a researcher into a puzzle at the spirit of this nation and its people who've been brought up under sub-standard conditions, always in a struggle for survival. And dear, when life is a struggle, we often take the manners for ransom.

India Rejuvenation Initiative

"You have to work within the system, to change the system."

- Atul Kulkarni in the film, Page 3

The common man stands testimony since times immemorial to instances of corruption at various footholds of the so called 'system'. While bribery, nepotism, favouritism and red-tapism have become a routine part of our lives, it is no surprise that we have begun to show the path of least resistance to these examples of sacrilege to a democratic set-up.

Interestingly, cinema has paved the way to show a sanguine path and the new generation (at least the educated middle-class) has begun to ventilate their grievances, intermittently. Be it cases of injustice (the Jessica Lal Case) or Mandal -II, wherein the young brigade from all sections revolted in rebellion for what it believed was a failure of meritocracy. Keeping all these recent uproars in mind, an expression of hope is a sign of relief for the future.

Nurturing that hope for admonishing the idiosyncracies of the system, is the India Rejuvenation Initiative (Bharat Punarothhan Abhiyan). Debate, being a compulsory and a mundane recourse to every issue, IRI comes as a breathe of fresh air since it votes for action over debate. Supported by a group of several educationists, senior IAS and IPS officers, senior government officials viz. Former Chief Election Commissioner J.M.Lyngdoh, Former Director General of Police J.F.Ribeiro and former Chief Justice of India R.C.Lahoti, IRI has resolved to direct action to fix accountability, transparency and probity into the system.

The need for an enterprise like this has always been felt, when the system has tried to take over virtue and principle. Key positions for senior officials in the bureacracy are often occupied by the corrupt. This prevents the new recruits - just pawns in the larger set-up to adhere to the higher authorities vested interests, often sacrificing ethics and standards, that their profession demands.

Lyngdoh believes, "It is necessary that honest public servants must be supported strongly when they stand against misdeeds. The corrupt officers are well-known to their colleagues." IRI will come into action when it will influence key appointments. "Whenever we come to know that the government is going to appoint a wrong officer on a key post, the members will meet the authorities and request to reconsider the decision. We also could resort to other democratic means to curb such practices as and when required," he adds.

Therefore, for IRI's powers to be fully functional in efficacy, it will necessitate its urgency into full-prominence since initiatives like these have easy chance to die a stifled death, thanks to the already empowered VIP class.

The group is also against these very VIP facilities for privileged few at the cost of the common man and law-abiding citizens. A case in point where IRI could have been effective, is a plethora of storylines, already done to death on celluloid. E.Nivas' Shool, Mahesh Manjrekar's Kurukshetra, Mani Ratnam's Yuva, Shimmit Amin's Ab Tak Chhappan amongst several others, have rightfully showcased how the system deserts the dutiful, when bribery and politics permeate a system, that should ideally remain impregnable.

While IRI should successfully create a beginning somewhere in exposing corruption, gross inaction and inefficiency in the echelons of power, it remains to be seen how much of an edge it has over agencies like the Anti-Corruption Bureau (ACB) and Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI). These agencies are believed to have also been swallowed into the pool of dirty politics in several high profile cases, tampering evidence and concealing information.

A welcome move would be the setting up more and more fast-track courts. This would ensure that there isn't any time spent in dispensing justice to the needy. Also, a culture of pressure groups coming up in every state would energise the intellectual vanguards of an already suppressed system. Not only that, civilian participation for IRI initiatives and citizen action groups will help constant pressure to be mounted on the administration and the media will only be to too glad to oblige by monitoring activities throughout.

Knights riding on dark horses

What can stars do? Nothing...but sit on their axis!

-Charlie Chaplin

With soccer fever flying high over the air-waves, its time the bird flu received some welcome relief. As support extends itself in the riot of colours for their favourite teams, soccer extravaganza has taken over all the world. So much so, that even in a cricket crazy country like India, the national team's Carribean tour has taken a back-seat. That's the power of the world's most popular sport.

Soccer fortunately gets more popular in certain regions of the world, with each passing World Cup, thanks to qualifying teams coming from under-developed countries. Being a part of this event does them a world of good. Similarly, at FIFA '06, emotional support rings high especially for countries like Trinidad and Tobago, Ghana, Ivory Coast, Togo, Angola et al. And with good reason.

Several amateur nations have caused major upsets in the last few decades. Senegal's trounced France 1-0 in 2002, Croatia rose to the top four teams in France '98, Cameroon had a rollercoaster ride to the quarterfinals in 1990, Algeria defeated West Germany in 1982...
All of the statistics only accentuate the presence of these under-dog teams at the international arena. This not only makes them a force to reckon with, but makes the biggies ensure a spirited performance against them.

Branco Milanovic, author of a study on soccer for Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, observes, "In the four latest World Cups, there were always at least two newcomers among the top eight national teams."

While countries like Togo, with a growth rate of 1% in 2005 and a GDP just under two billion dollars, bring their citizens international repute, where does India see itself? Currently in the race for economic dominance alongwith China, India is not far from becoming an Asian superpower, with its fertile manpower resources and booming economic growth. Will soccer be a part of the national agenda for a nation that finds its denizens go crazy in support for Samba boys?

A question worth pondering over is how dark horses for the World Cup have garnered support in a sport where Ronaldinho hogs cover pages of all World Cup specials. England, thanks to its widely telecasted English Premier Leagues remains the most hyped team so far and Beckham, the only player to have been in the news always for anything but his football playing prowess.

There's a thrill in cheering for under-dogs, always. Not only for soccer, but for every sport on this planet - the favourites are undoubtedly most written about, but when the under-rated team goes a step ahead and creates a major upset, that is when we have a match on our hands. The under-dog has the extra edge of improvisation and elevation, while the favourites always need to retain their pride. Over confidence, under-estimation are few vulnerable qualities which corrupt the favourites. On the other hand, a constant hunger of trying to level the favourites keeps the under-dogs mentally agile. The result can be quite a humdinger in such cases.

As far as a game like cricket is concerned, there's a reason why there is pride in cheering for India. Not because I'm an Indian myself, but because India has always been a dark horse in the race for glory. Unpredictably classy and failingly consistent, the dark-horses perform at the most unexpected and opportune moments. They have the capacity to sniff lethargy in the body language of the favourites; they capitalise on vanity from the opponents often leaving them completely flummoxed.

Building on the same hopes, India can also make a mark for itself provided there is the political will to upgrade the sport's presence. Its not just the infrastructure nor is it the absence of finances, but majorly the political will to place the sport(s) as a medium which can take the country places. And since India is an underdog, you never know - the next time you hear crackers burst in the neighbourhood, you won't think of an Indian cricket victory. Rather, you'd most probably say, "Bhaichung scored."

Suspense-thriller books don't make great films

There's been quite a lot of debate so far whether a good book makes a good film. I havn't been exactly a participant in this debate, but surely have harbored certain views on this topic. And most of them have been formed with the release of the recent blockbuster 'The Da Vinci Code'.

I believe the debate is not a platonic discussion. There can be certain books which have fuelled the imagination of millions and have tremendous fodder for visual appeal. For example, a movie in the Harry Potter series holds extravagant visual imagery and cinematic content that can take the book ahead in our imagination. Hogwarts, wizardry, dragons, Quidditch, Voldemort...there is immense scope for interpretation on part of the director in the way he portrays the characters, sets, make-up of the film. It is only when the director's interpretation and our own tread on similar grounds, that we identify with the film and begin to like it.

Surely, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings went through this process of identifying with the imagery the books once created in our minds. The books formed movies which were magnum opei and the rest is history.

Thrillers or suspense potboilers in books for films, aren't exactly what you expect to be curious about. Since the plot and the mystery has already been revealed in the book, there is hardly anything to sustain viewer interest, unless of course if the script-writer adds his own spice to the film.

The Da Vinci Code, to me, unfortunately suffers from the same anomaly. Let's leave aside the fact that director Ron Howard is a scholarly director - not the first person who comes to mind, when you want to produce a suspense thriller.

It is the mere fact, that the film offers very minimal visual curiosity, grandiosity and unpredictability to sustain audience interest. Unless you haven't read the book, the film definitely is a drab show. You know the conclusion, the villian, the sequence of events, the answers to all the codes ...the suspense has already been revealed to you long back alongwith its manifestation in steps of several clues! What could you possibly like this movie for? Tom Hanks' dry performance? Or Audrey Totou's francoise English accent? Not Ian Mccallen's pretentious role of course!

When films were made on HP, LOTR, Chronicles of Narnia, there was an awe and curiousity attached to the different fantasy world created by their authors. Fantasy sells quick when it is converted into celluloid, since the fantasy has been converted into a format which till then never orchestrated itself in front of your eyes.

Under such circumstances, the Da Vinci Code lacks any curious imagery that we would have formed. It grandiose for some portions if you've not seen The Louvre ever, but that's about it.

It is difficult to fathom what would have happened to the film had there not been any controversy surrounding it, internationally. Thanks to all the furore, it is rightly been termed 'The Critic Proof Film' of all times!

Intelligent discontent calling

"Intelligent discontent is the mainspring of civilization. Progress is born of agitation. It is agitation or stagnation."

- Eugene V Debs

With the students of Presidency College, Kolkata stepping in, the Naxalite movement received the required shot in the arm. Intelligent, radical students from perhaps the most respectable families then participated in the movement that not only began to hog extensive media attention, but also managed to garner expert organisational abilities. That was India, post 1975, during the Emergency.

Similar revolutions, although not underground, have been happening in India over the last several months. Its an interesting exercise to analyse, why words like 'protests', 'anti', 'march', 'rally' have become daily parlance. It began with the Jessica Lal case, a travesty of justice which witnessed a furore across the country. Silent marches, candle-light walks, black days, petitions and silent rage were easily visible amongst the educated classes. However, a new form of protest also made head-way across satellite airwaves - the E-revolution.

SMS petitions, E-mail forwards and PetitionOnline became the latest protesting channels, which cleverly exploited the vast majority of intelligentsia with an opinion on every issue. For Online petitions, the idea was simple - all one needed to do was to register one's name, email address and their comments. Quick, easy and comfortable - three terms that today's generation eagerly identified with, have been the fountainhead of the E-revolution.

But a question worth asking is - Why a sudden burst of public opinion across every medium, in the past few months? Is the media hogging news coverage about protests? Could several mediums have collated together, giving the cause the required support? Or, was it just the Rang De Basanti effect?

As far as mediums go, intelligent and uncensored opinion has been successfully garnered through the E-revolution. In the recent fervent protests against Quotas by medicos and the subsequent hunger strike, 3 striking medicos passed away. While this news was kept at bay from the press, the simultaneous E-revolution by the protesting body 'Youth For Equality' left no stone unturned in spreading the message. The online petitions garnered against reservations, features in the list of the top 20 petitions worldwide, this year, on PetitionOnline.com.

The media certainly had tremendous fodder for coverage for something that it believed, was right. In fact, the Jessica Lal case went back from the cans back to the corridors of justice thanks to effective coverage and investigations on the shenanigans of the Delhi Police.

It wouldn't be trivialistic to assume that this year's most 'repeatedly' watched film, Rang De Basanti, struck the right cords with a generation that had become complacent about themselves. In fact, it gave the necessary fuel to ignite passions of young blood, which so far could merely bicker about the apalling state of affairs.

The lack of censor-ship in the E-revolution has been its greatest advantage. For a country where facts are swept under the floor thanks to the all-pervasive red-tapism in the bureacracy, any trivial information has spread like wild-fire across inboxes.

However, for the very same bureacracy, the effectiveness of an online petition by amassing thousands of signatures, is questionable. Also, while online petitions may work for national issues, their use is limited when it comes to local causes. The scope of the E-revolution still holds tremendous potential for causes which are largely unaccounted for by the daily press, viz. Alarming rate of farmer suicides across several parts of the state can achieve greater dimensions by spreading the word, online.

Globally however, petitions have acquired new dimensions altogether, moving beyond the bureacratic needs. Some of the top petitions signed this year were titled 'Please show Soccer World Cup Live at Stanford', 'Please show Rugby on ESPN and ESPN2', 'Issuance of US Postal Service Stamps on Diwali', 'Persian Gulf - a global heritage in danger', etc. In India too, recently, a petition was signed in large numbers requesting a radio station which decided to 'Go Hindi' to continue playing English tracks.

Nevertheless, we indeed are witnessing an alert generation that has suddenly begun to stand up for its rights. Artifice Inc., the private firm which runs PetitionOnline registers over 25 petitions daily, across the world. The conventional media must keep the people responsibly informed, in the meantime. After all, at the end of all the intelligent discontent, its the proposed solutions that matter. Till then, long live the revolution.

What's Up? I'll show you...

"What's up?" she mused, over the phone.
"Yeah...nothing much," I replied, casually. The question has become redundant now-a-days. 'How are you' has now been dethroned by 'Wassup' as the official greeting line. Too bad if you're on the internet, chatting.
"ssup?"
"nm"
"k.."
"n wt else?"
"nm..u say.."

Chat-o-freaks, I tell you. They've got nothing to say and they claim they're chatting. And while the chat-o-lingo takes over our lives, I fear an official molestation of the English language. 'Nothing much' has been replaced by 'nm'...so make that NM college of Management Studies as Nothing Much College of Management Studies. Let's see how the admissions go.
A deadly and gorgeous female from our class has mutilated the lingo even further. She's replaces 'Wassup' or 'ssup' with 'sp'.
Ha! Sardar Patel just moved in his grave. Wassup Jain College of Management Studies. Even better admission prospects.

But even more irksome is the fact, that even though there might not be anything up in your life, you're persistently asked 'Wassup' at every other corner. Dodging and steering through Yahoo chat windows is not an onerous task, but can become one, thanks to the 'Wassup culture'. Completely annoyed by its ramifications, one day, I decided to give a piece of my mind to a chat-friend of mine.
"Hey..wasup?" the text bounced on my screen, out of the blue. I decided not the reply.
"BUZZ!" he went as the room rang shrill with the Yahoo buzzer. I'd had enough. This guy was indeed desperate to know what was up in my life. I began...
"Hey..howdy man? ntn much yaar...woke up in the mornin..went for a pee, brushed my teeth only to realise it was shaving cream that I was brushing with. Then shaved my under-arms with Old Spice. Had breakfast comprising of owl-meat and hairy legs, topped it up with milk. Wanted to watch TV, but mom was hooked on to it. So logged on to 'Gay for Pay' on the internet. It was cool, you know...you should catch it sometime..."

We're distant friends now. And why not? The next time one of us ever asked, 'wassup', we flung ourselves at a distance from each other.

-------

Telecom networks made brisk business lately, thanks to the fervent protests against reservations across the country. While public outcry is vociferous on TV channels, a silent revolution has been hogging SMSes with enormous efficacy. Arjun Singh jokes are a clear favourite - right from his sexual proclivities to the famous dialogue of Deewar...
"Mere paas IIT ka PG degree hai, IIM (A) ka MBA hai..tumhare paas kya hai?"
"Mere paas reservation hai!"
The impact, I believe has been equally registered in the virtual world through the 'Youth For Equality' blog and its associated Yahoo Group. Long live the revolution.

Having said that, I must admit I'm bugged with same old 'Mail from an AIIMS student' and 'Please forward..oppose quotas', 'Imp: Youth for equality'...
As if this was not enough, banking on the Orkut craze, a canard has surfaced about closing accounts of inactive Orkut users. For conspiracy theorists and for the revulutionaries, a community has been set up to work upon breaking this system of chain mails. Join in...

Mission Break the Chain
http://www.orkut.com/Community.aspx?cmm=14208765

Also, if you wish to verify the authenticity of donor mails, which claim that 10 cents from Yahoo will be donated for a cause for every forward, here are a few useful links...
http://www.breakthechain.org/

http://www.hoax-slayer.com/


----------

The advertising industry has finally tasted blood, albeit the cola wars are subtle this time. Ads from the cola majors - Pepsi and Coke are something we look forward to, but this time, the fun seems to have been, well, fizzled out a bit. Still, no place like the Indian ad industry...

Here's a Mediaswamis round-up of some of the coolest ads this summer... (not in the order of their merit, nor reservation either)

1. Mirinda - Mouth ka karo good use
Perhaps the only cola, which managed to place itself differently using a novel concept. Zayed rocks and so does Kunal Ganjawalla.

2. Wheel - Kaun rakkhe rang
Vibrant, colourful and essentially Indian; this is a feel good ad. And yes, Kailash Kher's voice elevates it to a new pedestal altogether.

3. Monster.com - Hari Sadu
Aaaaah...now that's what you call a good one! Real good one. Mind it.

4. Parle Hide n Seek - Wanna Dance?
Flamboyance is thy name. And the packaging. Hrithik 'Krissh' Roshan does the needful and so does the danseuse.

5. Mentos - Hair Cutting Saloon
Mischief spills out in every frame with cunning intelligence. Works for Mentos.

6. Sprite - TV hota hai dekhne ke liye. Soft drink hota hai peene ke liye. Clear hai. Sprite.
A well-timed spoof launched on the very day Pepsi's silly Pepsi TV campaign was revealed. While the latter disappointed, Sprite was able to retain its nature of taunts.

7. Limca - Boondon mein
Refreshing idea and great packaging. Ideally placed for the summer. And the cool SFX make it way much better.

8. Fast-track - the FALL collection
Initially I thought they were falling for him, but English is such a funny language - wonder how come nobody used this before.

9. Coca Cola - Thande ka tadka
Aamir's presence makes all the difference. And Prasoon Joshi hasnt had enough of championing for the right cause - this time a Japani being duped in an Indian Hotel. We don't mind, as long as it works.

10. Air Tel - Power of Expression
Black and white images, a chilling background score - gives you goosebumps everytime you watch it. Amazing stuff.

-----------

Mumbai Mirror reporter Nilesh Nikade recently fell victim to jaundice. Confined to the bed and on a steamed rice diet, jaundice wasn't something that was going to escape him so easily. Sudesh Malvankar, a fellow reporter for TOI and myself paid him a visit, wherein we chided him playfully.
"Stay away from the field, leave the stories to us," we advised.
"Why?" he asked, smiling.
"You've got jaundice. Not good for your health. Not good for the stories either."
"Not good for the stories? Why?"
"Yellow journalism."


- Arcopol

Adieu

I finally bid adieu to the Indian Express.

No, not that I was working there. But I've been a regular reader of this honest daily, for more than a year. And now, I've cancelled its subscription. Thank a host of other options that are keeping me much better informed and updated.

The print media in Mumbai got a shot in the arm last year, with the launch of new dailies in the form of Mumbai Mirror, Daily News & Analysis (DNA) and the Mumbai edition of Hindustan Times (HT). The existing stalwarts then were majorly Mid-Day, The Times of India and The Indian Express.

With the ushering in of these new newspapers, there's always break-neck competition amongst all of them to gain maximum readership, often at the cost of journalistic ethics just to grab a piece of your wallet. In the end, you have two of the most promising publications DNA and HT, handing out subscriptions at throw-away prices like 40 paise per copy and 96 paise per copy, respectively. That's not all - Mumbai Mirror, a Times Group Publication is also being given out free with TOI. Some marketing strategy this!

So then where did The Indian Express go wrong to see a day like this? Why is it struggling to find base with readers, as always? I happened to have an interesting discussion last weekend with a few of my colleagues in college. Incidentally, both of them worked at Mumbai Newsline last summer as interns and were it's sworn loyalists, until some time back.

"It's not attractive as the other newspapers. Take DNA - more pages, all in colour, with better print quality and extensive coverage. Why would I stick to Express?" asked one. Another opined, "Its dull and its got lesser news items too. Add to that, useless tenders and classifieds, everyday. Features and entertainment news is minimal."
I couldn't take this slaughter. "But hey, it's an honest paper isn't it? They've not succumbed to commercialisation. Now, that in today's era indeed is journalism of courage," I reacted.
"Maybe you'r right, but if the coverage is so limited, why would I stick to it? I want to be myself to be kept best informed." added another, who had also quit her subscription.

I had sympathy for the Express. This is the very newspaper that has shaped my ideals towards what is right and what is wrong. My language, my writing skills, my vocabulary and most importantly, my news-sense has been defined by this paper.

Shekhar Gupta, the Indian Express editor-in-chief, is a man, not many can equal and his baby is perhaps the only newspaper today, that honours journalism to the best of its ability. I've seen it in Express reporters. There's something different about them which makes them a class apart. The recently concluded Ramnath Goenka Awards witnessd quite a number of awards given away to Express journalists. DNA, TOI, HT, Mid-Day were nowhere in the picture.

I wondered.

It's true, no doubt, that DNA and TOI are doing wonders in news-reportage by keeping us abreast of maximum areas and arenas possible. More editorials, more supplements and more beats coming in. And they're fucking cheap too. At least DNA and HT are. Express still remains unmoved at Rs.3 per copy.

I sighed.

My dad meanwhile didn't like the idea of cancelling the subscription. He'd rather buy the Express just for the Editorial pages, which he reads with great interest.

A friend of mine recently joined the Express as an intern. It pinched somehow to see her working at Express alongwith several familar names. Lucky her, I thought. Here, I am, at a civic weekend publication with the Times, translating stories for fellow reporters and doing stories like a bull - stories which are read by masses who're seriously not bothered (Mine is a distant suburb from Mumbai - the media hub). And there she is, dishing out delectable written pieces that can have so much impact with its loyal and much wider readership. Mind you, there are few dailies in India which have registered as much impact on administration and issues as much as the Express.

I sighed yet again. I envied her. Perhaps I was plain jealous. I don't know. She was too, initially, when I'd joined the Times and she was still not into the field.

But then, was I right in giving up on the Express? I don't know yet. Only time will tell, I guess.

Damn.

I shall miss you, Shekhar. I shall miss you, Shantanu. I already do. And yes, I miss you Dheera. God bless you buddy.

- Arcopol

A fashion show, khakis and murder

Location: A fashion week
Situation: Strict security, policemen deployed all around the venue to ensure there aren't any wardrobe malfunctions
Media buzz rating: High
Opposition parties in government: Pleased
Tempers of organisers: Rising

She sashayed onto the ramp with elan. Grace, poise and confidence seemed to be in plentiful tonight. And her body was perhaps the perfectly rotating trolley to display her designer's creations in front of the world. She was Maria - the cynosure of all eyes this evening.

The burgeoning police force at the venue was disturbing. Of course, most of them seemed like hedonists. And why not? Duty seemed like a distant responsibilty - wardrobes could just be the criminals tonight. Their eyes hovered continuously around the models' breasts, everytime hoping that some buttons would unlock by mistake and to their pleasure, the army of shutterbugs would go flash on the cameras.

Breasts weren't the only areas of observation today. Curves ruled and the voyeurs in khaki were mere flibbertigibbets about their real duty tonight. After all, brethren of Sunil More cannot be expected to sagaciously clean. Of course, all sheep aren't black like More, but let's face it, the gray ones know where the action is. And hence, even though they were dressed in khakis as usual, all Maria and a host of other contestants, could see tonight was gray.

All was fine, until a sophisticated Vikram Phadnis creation gave way. Flashbulbs went off, the cops raised the alarm, while the opposition party leaders sat up and took notice. A warning was sounded inside the ramp and the show returned to normal. It was 9pm and the heart of the show was just about to begin. This malfunction was let off with a warning. The ceiling caved in on AN Roy as Sainiks landed on his doorstep demanding more police to be staffed at the venue.

25 more constables were deployed and the already understaffeded police force of Mumbai was now bursting at its seams at the fashion show venue, hoping to ameliorate the situation. Rajdeep cried hoarse on News at 9 with battering eyelids, "Breaking news...we've just received another report of a wardrobe malfunction...that takes the total toll of police staff deployed at the venue to 54..."

Meanwhile, an intruder armed with a chopper had made his way into Matoshree. Security men in this area were deployed on emergency duty at the Fashion Week and most Sainiks were out on streets burning posters of semi-naked models. (Most of those semi-naked posters had been procured from the Sainik's bedrooms' secret cupboards.)The Shiv Sena supremo seemed to be at peace, busy writing his next editorial on police bandopbast regularly at fashion shows to ensure 'no malfunctions'.

Just when it seemed that things were in control, an already weird Ritu Beri creation acted even more weird giving the page-3 photographers food for their lenses. The model carried herself bravely though and not for even a single second was she intimidated by the frenzy of flashbulbs that captured the moment. Rajdeep was yelling now into the camera, ever delighted to be the first person to give the 'breaking news'..."Yet another wardrobe malfunction in a span of 7 minutes, our (excited) correspondent Paras Tomar got an exclusive glimpse of it..."

Sainiks went ballistic. Constables threatened to close down the show by jumping on the ramp with lathis. Frontbenchers Ness and Preity flared up their nostrils, while Salman was only glad that no malfunction happened in Katrina's costumes. AN Roy deployed 6 more constables now, most of whom were standing ludicruously close to the ramp. Another malfunction and the cops would have walked alongside the models like security guards.

Matoshree's intruder meanwhile made his way out of the compound with a smug look on his face and his fingers wiping the blood off his chopper with a napkin. His job was done. In another part of Mumbai, a businessman was looted of Rs.23 lakhs while he was on his way home. He found no constables to file an FIR when he reached the nearest police station.

And while the fashion week witnessed yet another wardrobe malfunction, this time cops brought the show to a close. The models were whisked away mysteriously, alarm bells were rung to stop this 'disgrace to our culture' by Sainiks who stormed the premises. Thousands of families across the nation saw pandemonium being telecast LIVE from Mumbai. Police resorted to lathi-charge to control the protestors, Rajdeep screamed hoarse into the camera...

The next day, newspapers were smattered with headlines...gory images of chaos at the fashion show, TV grabs of the bra that gave way. But the one headline that rocked the entire nation was right at the centre. Hindustan Times had this one:

TIGER POACHED: SHIV SENA CHIEF MURDERED AT MATOSHREE
Sanjeev Shivadekar, Mumbai

Shiv Sena Chief Bal Thackeray was found murdered in cold blood at his Matoshree residence last night. Supposedly writing the editorial for next day's edition of the party mouthpiece Saamna, a letter was found near his table addressed to him, written by a certain 'Cynic' who claimed to have killed him because he was "pissed off with extreme moral policing in daily life and now, on fashion shows" and "the deployment of security personnel for such a lame excuse, while several major issues of the city's security remained unnoticed..."


The End

Celluloid myths busted

Hollywood's biggest blockbusters have been - believe it or not - costume dramas. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Harry Potter series...there is something about Hollywood and their mega-budgets that makes their glorious past so watchable on celluloid. Everytime.

Just a few moments ago, I got over with perhaps one of my most educative and entertaining movie watching experiences of all time. No, it wasn't Yash Chopra (he's too senti-types), nor was it Karan Johar (Gimme a break!) nor was it some sci-fi action thriller that kept me on the edge of my seat. It was Hanuman.

The recent Bollywood animation flick broke all records at the box-office and when it did so, it left me wondering why. And how, could a nation that has always boasted of tacky SFX and poor records in home-made animation films boast of such an achievement? Today, all my doubts were cleared. I am sure that not only did the film keep kids hooked to their seats, it also must have given a welcome break for family audiences from A-rated Hashmi flicks.

We all know it - children don't watch the films as we do. You need something to grip them into their seats in the form of arresting visuals, groovy music and enrapturing storylines. All with a coating of humour. Hanuman does all of that. And more.

The current generation that is growing up is not being nurtured in homes where Ramayana and Hanuman are the first things that they'd get to watch on Sunday mornings. They need to be informed of the glorious mythology that India boasts of, the great epics armed with elements that would give any run-of-the-mill Bollywood saga a run for its money. Last but not the least, the greatness of each of these epics lies in their underlying ability to teach us morals, which are unfortunately being milked away to doom in this materialistic world.

I, myself am one of those unlucky ones, who's missed out on it. I've been hooked to storybooks right from my child-hood and watching a saga on TV wasn't something I've done ever. The result is that, today, I'm one of the most ill-informed people about Ramayana and Mahabharata. You should have seen me hide my face, when the Big-B would ask questions relating to these two epics on KBC and everyone in my family would create expressions saying, "Hey..that's such a simple question!"

Imagine how these stories would look on celluloid. Think Troy, LOTR and think Mahabharata. Visualise the great battle sequences...the multiplying arrows...,dragons, snakes, the monkey army of Ramayana, Hanuman's antics...the eye-popping SFX that would make films on these epics such a visual treat! It would be create path-breaking opportunities for artists from all over the world to come together and make such a celluloid project possible. We need not dwell on Ramanand Sagar technology anymore. The latest technology is available and more importantly the investments can be procured.

But caution must be alerted from a few past examples of such costume dramas, since they've not always tasted success. Although investments and production values can be hiked up, it remains uncertain whether returns will be equally fulfilling. Asoka by Santosh Sivan was an affluent product with steep production values, but it bombed miserably. Its a different issue that the movie didn't have an engaging story to tell either.

However the point that I'm trying to put across is that, there is a generation which lies unaware and uninformed of the glory of our epics. And neither would they be inclined to watch a marathon run of their old episodes on Doordarshan. However, these epics could be fodder for great trilogies and war-films. Say, if LOTR, King Arthur, Braveheart, Troy can attract packed houses, in India, thanks to brilliant starcasts, fine direction and eye-popping SFX, I don't see any reason why our epics wouldn't work either. But lets not convert them into animation again, like Hanuman. Pigeon-holing them into animation creates a huge block in inflow of a large section of audiences.

People say today's films have weak scripts and poor storylines. Critics say, that most of our films today do not put across any worthwhile message. (How can they? We rush towards the Exit doors at the Intermission itself!!) Lets look back into history. There are two epic scripts with flawless narration, that are educative, informative, thought-provoking (I could go on...) - all stories waiting to be told. Once again.

Cheers!
Arcopol

A generation awakens...only to find another generation asleep.

The Indian media must be taking pride from the fact, that their exetensive coverage and campaign for justice in the Jessica Lal case worked as a catalyst for a thorough investigation, once again.

SMS polls...'Is this the travesty of Justice?'...'Is this the death of Indian constitution?'...the so-called public outburst burst at the seams, only to land up into TV news channels and newspapers. But in the midst of all this, how are we to be certain of the magnanimity of this outcry? Did the entire nation surely and whole-heartedly question the existing judiciary? Or was it just the cosmospolitan cities which participated in these polls through mobile phone armed-working classes?

Yes, youngsters were definitely up-in-arms. Black days in colleges, student unions taking morchas towards India Gate, assumptions that it was the 'Rang De Basanti' effect and several others taking pride to appear in front of television cameras with a candle - we've seen it all.

All of the above samples comprise quite a considerable part of India's population, but then, what about the rest? A generation was found sleeping, not bothered or perhaps even not informed of the existing fury of the class outrage in cities. Perhaps they didn't want to spend that precious rupee in sending a crucial SMS to television channels? Hell, what do they care? Let me illustrate this point more clearly.

At the third screening of Rang De Basanti at a B-grade single screen cinema hall in the suburbs, I was witness to this great economic divide which is perhaps the drawing line of fury on the Jessica Lal case too. Its a populist cinema hall, (India has thousands like these) the stalls are usually packed with whistle-blowers who'll feast their eyes on your sister's beauty, gaze at your pop-corn wistfully and cry hoarse into their cell-phones non-chalantly, while the movie is on.

While RDB provoked rebellious sentiments from the multiplex audiences and also saw a sudden spurt in tissue paper sales after its release, it was clear that the film had touched many hearts and most importantly provoked them into action. But stall audiences found sadistic pleasure in watching Sharman Joshi die, mocked at scenes where Soha Ali Khan breaks down over Madhavan's death and yes, giggled to see Aamir crying in the company of the 'gori'. Yes, they did genuinely enjoy 'Maa ki aankh' and 'Bhain di takke', but considering the fact, that most of the stall audiences staged a disappointed walk-out at martyrdom of the film's leading boys, this definitely illustrates simplistic mind-sets.

This indeed is the very section of India's population, a very large section in fact, which doesnt seem bothered by national issues. Yes, they'll be up in arms over religious and political issues, but take note - these are 'issues'. And issues generally are senseless discussions and outrages over selfish matters. But when it comes to crusading for something through mass agitations, for something which is oh-so-genuinely wrong from each and every perspective - they're not bothered.

This is the very section of our population which only cares about 4 things - food, clothing, shelter and yes, sex. Lots of it. Most of them may be voyeurs, but there's a reason why films like 'Mujhe Pyaar Karo' and 'Chinese Kama Sutra'still run to packed houses on Fridays.

To believe that the Jessica Lal case spurred a national outrage would be an over-rated statement. It was in-fact limited only through cosmopolitan cities, the news-hungry titillating media, politicians, educational institutions and the middle-classes. All of them armed with mobile-phones.

Aiming for the Worst!

Advertising and marketing professionals take note - selling a product inside trains can make for an interesting case study.

Consider this - every product that is introduced in the market tries to position itself as something unique, having a certain set of USPs which no other product in the same range can offer. In other words, every (or most) product or service is trying to position and market itself as the best a consumer can get.

But what if they tried to promote themselves in an antagonistic way? What if, out of the blue, some company came up with the idea to market itself as the "worst" a consumer can get? Then we wouldn't be surprised if hoardings were plastered over the city - "Blah Blah Oil - The Worst your Car can get", "BPL - Believe in the Worst"...

Positive and negative numbers all exist on the number line. For everything positive, there is an equal and opposite negative. For every Neo, there's a Smith. All are equally strong, although directed in opposite directions.

It would be interesting though, to imagine, how consumers would respond with propositions for the "Worst" products. Common sense tells that, provided the product or service exists within the disposable incomes of the person, he wouldn't mind trying it. Let me quote an example.

On board the Gitanjali Express to Kolkata, I was taken by surprise, when amidst cries of Badhiya Chai....Coffeee...there emerged a lonesome cry - "Kharaab se kharaab chai!" Initially my fellow passengers and myself exchanged casual smiles as the tea-vendor casually passed by hoping we'd order tea from him. After some moments of reluctance, one of us called him and inquired about his tea which was ready to take on the best in the business - from behind. "Ab kya karen saab, bechne ke liye, bolna padta hai! Aap peekar to dekho dada, chai buri nahin hai..."

Nevertheless, we all ordered tea atleast once through him, in the entire journey. There was not much difference in quality of the tea, but he definitely won us over, as first timers, in his selling strategies and positioning. Even though innovative strategies have been observed which go reverse (Surf Excel - Daag achche hain), it'll be interesting to see how "Rush for the Worst" strategies work in India. Maybe after the initial hoopla and mayhem and cacophony, the interest may die down. But then, it'll be a terrific way to hook-up potential customers and make them sample the product atleast. But note, only within their disposable incomes. And this is just my personal point of view. Its quite out of the box - since its never been used in the box (read TV).

We bought tea because it made our wallet lighter by a mere few coins. A television set or mobile phone damages our wallets much more severely.
- Third Eye

Wide angle lens

Professor Shashi Nair surely had a point to make when he informed us that the human eye is perhaps the most versatile lens ever created. The flamboyance with which it adjusts and adapts to situations and settings is truly remarkable. My convictions on his statement received extensive support at the recently concluded written examination on Principles of Photography.

The cacophony before the test begins is inevitable. Last minute glances into bundles of xeroxes, nervous finger-biting, scaling margins, harried supervisors desperately requesting us to "Drop you bags..drop your bags!" and of course, the most motivating - good wishes and good lucks from fellow homies. The stage is finally set and examination is about to begin...

Little have we proceeded into the written test and this very versatile lens that I was talking about, is seen functioning in full flow. I've seen it myself, used it to the core with all the adjustments on my very own lens, but somehow the perfect image never registered on the recording medium (my cornea). Inevitably, every time this lens tries to focus, zoom in-zoom out, the incongruous invigilator obstructs or rather, dustracts my view. While I tried to focus again and zoom into the right places (heheh...), here's what my fellow homies were upto...

To my right was fellow-mate Gautam, busy trying to wipe his lenses and adjusting the extra-apparel that came along with it (read: his long locks). Focussing was getting difficult for him today. Why not? Extra-exposure all night and exhaustion can definitely take its toll on them. Rohit Gulati, another pony-tuned punjab da puttar was trying to use the versatility of his lens to the hilt. His wide-angle was trying to grab all he could from Gautam's sheets, but surprisingly for him Gautam's sheets were whiter than usual. I guess, the film got over-exposed on Gautam's part. Makhija on the other hand, was chewing on his tripod. (Whatever that means!)

Meanwhile, Ashwini, was desperately trying to focus. She had zoomed in perfectly alright, but her tripod was shaky and wobbly as usual. Her lenses unfortunately showed terrific affection for the developing medium and tried to make contact with it and when it did, a strange snoring sound emanated out of the entire process....

Gaikwad, today was clicking away to glory. Images captured from all direction - his strategic positioning, coupled with excellent incident metering, he was able to record useful images from various sources around him in the form of Ankita, Vasudha and Anushka. Hope he didn't make any malicious use of his surprisingly spot-on precision in focusing. I'd have appreciated a lesser zoom. Well, who cares? I'd better started taking prints soon or else, I'd have nothing to zoom into.

Its feels strange indeed when I looked at the examination hall in this perspective. It may appear funny to realise that I was actually going through such thoughts, when instead I should have been coolly taking photographs ....err....taking my own prints out of my memories. But there's a beautiful and meaningful thought-process that emerges when I look at the flip-side of it.

We are after all, the recording media, (media students) with in-built lenses. Sometimes, we do try shift, adjust and strain them a bit, but its essential that we take good care of these lenses and show an effecient and true picture of what we see. The human body is like an entire photography apparatus itself. Its only our prints though, which reflect of how we see the world around us. And the acknowledgment of those prints, reflects a lot of what the world thinks of us.

We as, media students, definitely know how our reflections (or prints, rather ;) ) are going to make a world of a difference!
Cheers!
Arcopol

Blood on Holy banks

The bomb blasts at Varanasi surely have sent ripples through the nation. While the media has been keeping the us informed about the latest developments, by the minute, it is inevitable (We're India after all) that politicians are extracting political mileage out of the entire incident.


Interestingly, when I recollect similar blasts last year just prior to Diwali, there was a feeling of resilience that the average Delhi-ite showed to the entire incident. Even here in Varanasi, similar sentiments have been witnessed and the city has resumed its services.

However, one question puzzles me - Have the attacks questioned the the very secular fabric of the Indian society? The Delhi attacks were at a market-place and this one at a the Sankat Mochan Temple. Note the difference in the secular setting of the two blasts. One is a temple and the other is a busy bazaar. Hence, the general perception is that Islamic terrorists have battled it out in Varanasi to prove their point.

What point do they prove, I wonder, by such flutters in the daily life of the largest democracies in the World? Of course, they do claim lives - we cannot deny that. But is their larger purpose served - a purpose behind which lies the veil of Jehaad and its idiosycracies. Hilal Kohistani, Jackie's Shroff's character was perhaps right when he quoted in Mission Kashmir - Time, money and Jehaad wait for none.

What is required at such times of national alarm is a definite sense of composure and resilience to set back things into normalcy. It is with incredulous alacrity that politicians are flaring up communal passions by going on the record only to declare 'what they feel' of this incident.
L.K.Advani is infact has been using this opportunity to canvass and initiate a nationwide yatra along with protege Rajnath Singh! Somebody tell the old man, that good old times came to an end when he expressed his 'affection' for Jinnah. The Hindutva loyalist is only trying to scratch the surface harder within his party's echelon's of power.

Thankfully, we've been witness to an alert media in the last few days of these blasts. That's something that has been characteristic of the Indian Television scenario ever since the time competition ushered in, in the form news-channels. Competition should enforce accountability into reportage and thankfully, that has happened, although in bits and pieces.

The Solution Seeker

There's a crazy energy all around the media. An energy which never dies down - its a world which is constantly upbeat and abreast with the latest happenings. And here's the worst part - there's always someone or the other who's going to get the piece of cake (read NEWS) before you do.

Dedicating an entire blog to the media wouldn't just be enough, I'd need to more than that. After all, being a part of this field, I do realise that this indefatigable enthusiam is at times like a trance, as things just seem to roll by - passing through like a montage of images.

Here's the debut of perhaps not just another blog in blogosphere but also a movement which will help bring bright minds under a common discussion forum, posting feasible solutions. The hunger for this blog comes from the fact, that the media is generally perceived to be a medium which observes and relays messages appropriately. Let us for once, try to put forward thoughts with a solution in perspective too.

Cheers and regards!
Arcopol.