Post liberalization, Bangalore has had a drastic change in its demography. The opening up of the constricted Indian market in the early 90s had marked the insinuation of several big names in the world trade set up camps in Bangalore. Especially, the information technology honchos. This called for enormous skilled and unskilled man power, coaxing thousands of Indian youths to migrate to the city. Not to mention hundreds of educational institutions, of varying capacity and capability, mushrooming in the city. To sum up, the denizens of Bangalore are a heterogeneous mix of cultures, faiths, practices etc.
Bangalore habba, an initiative of AFFA, has given the Bangaloreans (including the immigrants), an opportunity to have a comprehensive view of the cosmopolitan cultural of Bangalore. The audience has a wide array of performances to choose from. Thus, Bangalore habba is special in its diversity, as it caters to audience with distinct sensibilities. This is in concordance to Bangalore’s demography, where there are audiences for Kannada theatre, folk performances, arts exhibition, as well as rock bands. With a blend of indigenous and western arts, habba does not disappoint on content.
The habba highlights the democratic culture of Bangalore as well. One of the fore most cosmopolitan cities in India, often reeking with complaints from the immigrants about limited linguistic flexibility of the region (which is considerably low as compared to the orthodox Chennai), Bangalore gives its denizens a liberated cultural scenario which is a healthy concoction of western and regional influence. Thus, in addition to catering to a heterogeneous population which is a result of liberalization, the Bangalore habba also showcases different facets of Bangalore culture. It proves that Bangalore has an audience for the diversity on offer.
The event remains true to its motive of highlighting the cultural diversity of Bangalore as it offers a free entry to the audience, thus liberating a willing audience of economic constraints and provides emerging talents a platform to showcase themselves, all the while. This can be attributed to the sponsorship by few of the fattest purses in the corporate world. It can be safely presumed that the big money it has drawn in, from the likes of Airtel, Tanishq, Black Dog, ONGC etc, is an outcome of liberalization. With more business and an increase in revenue garnered, the corporate are now capable of pumping money into such events, the events getting bigger and better in the process. This is a glaring example of liberalization’s contribution to the habba.
The event justifies the corporate image of Bangalore as well. The selection of venues, which ranges from the UB city auditorium, the Mantri mall, to the Palace grounds, complements the kind of events at the respective places. With events like crafts mela, the habba has commerce as an integral constituent. Association of big brands, with the main sponsor Airtel having around 200 words dedicated to the company profile in the official Bangalore habba website, showcases the event as a platform for advertisement and promotion as well, justifying the corporate flavor of the city.
Thus, the Bangalore habba, replete with the indigenous earthiness and cosmopolitan polish, provides a platform to showcase the diversity and flexibility of Bangalore’s culture with efficacy.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
26th Jan, the day of depravity
“Holy shit,” the expression that followed the oxymoron was one of overflowing urgency and panic; as if Deepak got to know he had mathematics test that day and not Physics, one which he had slogged the previous night on.
The urgency was to acquire “some booze”, the panic was the fear of alienation from his daily quota of booze. All because the government of India expects the revered denizens of the state to refrain from alcohol on 26th January, to commemorate Republic day.
Evidently, Deepak and his acolytes do not endorse the idea of a dry day. Unfortunately, they represent a considerable chunk of Indian youth with similar opinion.
Inviting the Indonesian prime minister, Sutan Sjahrir, will probably contribute to the fostering of friendly ties between the two countries; Sonia Gandhi’s absence in the president’s tea party, or Yedurappa and his acolytes giving the Governor’s tea party a cold shoulder, might have provided enough fodder for media speculation.
However, Indian government needs to pull its socks to address the grievances of Deepak and likes, for whom a republic day or an independence day is another coveted break from work. It is disheartening to know that, while patriotic forums in social networks are abuzz with jingoism, Deepak rues over non availability of alcohol. Those who don’t, keep mum at the prospect of a holiday, whatever reason it might be for. What is the purpose of imposing a dry day when liquor shops grab this opportunity to relieve the desperate customers of a few extra bucks against a bottle of whiskey, evading police vigilance (not to undermine the prospect of a nexus between the police and the shop keeper). So drop the idea of a dry day as it garners black money for a black soul.
Let us focus on the institutions where ‘ignited minds’ of the nation are manufactured. A republic day celebration is an integral part of any school’s schedule, where students are expected to be present and participate, ideally. However, teachers, over the years, have learnt to take the despondence over low turnout in their stride. The republic day celebration is confined to the unfortunate NCC guys performing the ritual of a parade, preceded by the customary national anthem. I am not sure whether they envy their classmates who enjoy the cozy winter sun with hot coffee, while they toil it on the ground. So leave the onus of celebrating republic day on the central and state governments and allow all the children a sound morning sleep, so that they at least appreciate the republic day.
Viewership of movies like Krantiveer and Border, patriotic movies which have become a permanent part of the platter served by television channels on republic day, far exceeds that of the live telecast of republic day parade from Red Fort, Delhi. Why don’t BJP confront the government to produce couple of movies on Indian independence, starring a Shahrukh Khan or a Madhuri Dixit, organize free and compulsory screenings in schools and colleges, rather than forcing their way to Lal Chowk to hoist the tricolor and antagonize the Congress? Thus, before 26th January dawns next year, number of youth cribbing about non availability of alcohol or compulsory attendance in school might take a downward plunge, out of respect for the Ambedkars and Bhagat Singhs and Subhash Boses.
The urgency was to acquire “some booze”, the panic was the fear of alienation from his daily quota of booze. All because the government of India expects the revered denizens of the state to refrain from alcohol on 26th January, to commemorate Republic day.
Evidently, Deepak and his acolytes do not endorse the idea of a dry day. Unfortunately, they represent a considerable chunk of Indian youth with similar opinion.
Inviting the Indonesian prime minister, Sutan Sjahrir, will probably contribute to the fostering of friendly ties between the two countries; Sonia Gandhi’s absence in the president’s tea party, or Yedurappa and his acolytes giving the Governor’s tea party a cold shoulder, might have provided enough fodder for media speculation.
However, Indian government needs to pull its socks to address the grievances of Deepak and likes, for whom a republic day or an independence day is another coveted break from work. It is disheartening to know that, while patriotic forums in social networks are abuzz with jingoism, Deepak rues over non availability of alcohol. Those who don’t, keep mum at the prospect of a holiday, whatever reason it might be for. What is the purpose of imposing a dry day when liquor shops grab this opportunity to relieve the desperate customers of a few extra bucks against a bottle of whiskey, evading police vigilance (not to undermine the prospect of a nexus between the police and the shop keeper). So drop the idea of a dry day as it garners black money for a black soul.
Let us focus on the institutions where ‘ignited minds’ of the nation are manufactured. A republic day celebration is an integral part of any school’s schedule, where students are expected to be present and participate, ideally. However, teachers, over the years, have learnt to take the despondence over low turnout in their stride. The republic day celebration is confined to the unfortunate NCC guys performing the ritual of a parade, preceded by the customary national anthem. I am not sure whether they envy their classmates who enjoy the cozy winter sun with hot coffee, while they toil it on the ground. So leave the onus of celebrating republic day on the central and state governments and allow all the children a sound morning sleep, so that they at least appreciate the republic day.
Viewership of movies like Krantiveer and Border, patriotic movies which have become a permanent part of the platter served by television channels on republic day, far exceeds that of the live telecast of republic day parade from Red Fort, Delhi. Why don’t BJP confront the government to produce couple of movies on Indian independence, starring a Shahrukh Khan or a Madhuri Dixit, organize free and compulsory screenings in schools and colleges, rather than forcing their way to Lal Chowk to hoist the tricolor and antagonize the Congress? Thus, before 26th January dawns next year, number of youth cribbing about non availability of alcohol or compulsory attendance in school might take a downward plunge, out of respect for the Ambedkars and Bhagat Singhs and Subhash Boses.
caste caste caste
India has been hailed as a land of unity in diversity for long. However, how unified India actually is, can be put under scanner, as caste based pogroms hog the lime light every other day. Be it a macro or a micro analysis, one is bound to agree that caste distinction is prevalent in India, irrespective of rural or urban, only that some embrace it while others claim to discard the tenets of caste.
Politics in India has chosen to remain interwoven with the call of caste. That Bihar has woken up to the lure of development in the forthcoming election is worth attracting raised eye brows. However, an insight into the pattern of candidate deployment and promises to voters reveal that caste might not be the trump card in securing votes any longer, but it is still a prime constraint which voters keep in mind. On one hand, Nitish Kumar is banking on the Extreme Backward classes and the Mahadalits, apart from Kurmis, Koeris, upper castes and Muslims. Lalu Prasad and Paswan are coaxing Yadavs, Muslims and Paswans to stand by them.
This is not a novelty in Bihar which bears the stigma of several caste based discriminations. The trend shows that the self proclaimed upper or privileged classes, with the tenets of Manu as a support to their agenda, are unabashed in using the services of lower castes, discarding them when the need gets over. This need based acceptance of the lower caste forces us to reconsider the hypocrisy and futility of caste distinctions in the country. As an example, one can cite a mid wife in Jamui, Bihar, who presides over every birth in the village, irrespective of caste, but still deprived of an invitation in social gatherings hosted by the upper castes. The same applies to the Doms in Jhaja, who dispose dead bodies off railway tracks and clean human excreta; still railways have been apathetic in imbibing them in its payroll. The crux is, the lower castes play a substantial role at life and death, only to be hypocritically discarded in the interim period.
Disparity in society is not an alien to South India as well. Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and Kerala are states practicing caste distinctions in full throttle. In Madurai, Tamil Nadu, lower caste people are expected to walk barefoot in upper caste localities. Even in Kerala, the Indian state with highest literacy rate, caste distinction prevails.
Gujarat is a striving centre for caste distinction where malice has corroded the souls of school children as well. While Bhangis (Dalits) are forbidden from travelling in chakkads (tempos) in Bhavnagar, Gujrat, Dalit girls are forced with the onus of maintaining sanitation of school wash rooms. Pouring 20 buckets of water daily to clean up the mess is no nondescript job for the 15 year olds. Several students have preferred to drop out of school to save themselves from such plights.
Such throbbing instances show that development is yet to over ride caste. Inclusion of caste in census, touted to be a revolutionary move, will have an important role to play in changing India’s mindset. On one hand it will enlighten us about numerous unrecognized classes striving for recognition and benefits, enlisting those castes which have benefitted immensely from various reservations implemented by the government at the same time. It has been aptly stated by Bhanwar Meghwanshi in his article in the Hindu that more than enlisting castes in the census, under pretext of uplifting social standards of those deprived, measures to eradicate the evil would be more apt. The ruckus created over inclusion of caste in the census, possibly because concerned persons are worried about its implications in their own ways, shows that caste has not gone down many places in our list of priorities.
The trouble lies in the loss of self respect in the down trodden. They are so accustomed in their squalid existence that they have started accepting the step child like as a custom. In Gujarat, Dalits are glad to accept Prasad from the higher castes directly, overlooking that they are not entitled to set their foot inside the temple premises. According to the documentary, India Untouched, a manager of Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation, a harijan, still refuses to be seated on the same platform with a higher caste person, even if offered a seat. Unless they find comfort in asserting their caste with pride, averting the perils of caste distinction is an improbable feat to achieve.
Not only Hinduism is a partisan to such practices. Castes are equally prevalent among Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, implementation of Islam being a tad bit lenient as it allows every Muslim to pray in the same mosque, unlike Christians and Hindus who often have separate temples to offer prayers, biased by caste hierarchy.
Government might have undertaken measures to dispense off the miseries of low caste. However, whether the aid reaches the targeted beneficiaries, unfortunately, depends on what class and caste they belong to. It is imperative to say that it is required to banish the caste distinction from our mind, to inculcate the mentality to realize that the so called low castes are entitled to social security and welfare schemes, at par with higher castes.
Politics in India has chosen to remain interwoven with the call of caste. That Bihar has woken up to the lure of development in the forthcoming election is worth attracting raised eye brows. However, an insight into the pattern of candidate deployment and promises to voters reveal that caste might not be the trump card in securing votes any longer, but it is still a prime constraint which voters keep in mind. On one hand, Nitish Kumar is banking on the Extreme Backward classes and the Mahadalits, apart from Kurmis, Koeris, upper castes and Muslims. Lalu Prasad and Paswan are coaxing Yadavs, Muslims and Paswans to stand by them.
This is not a novelty in Bihar which bears the stigma of several caste based discriminations. The trend shows that the self proclaimed upper or privileged classes, with the tenets of Manu as a support to their agenda, are unabashed in using the services of lower castes, discarding them when the need gets over. This need based acceptance of the lower caste forces us to reconsider the hypocrisy and futility of caste distinctions in the country. As an example, one can cite a mid wife in Jamui, Bihar, who presides over every birth in the village, irrespective of caste, but still deprived of an invitation in social gatherings hosted by the upper castes. The same applies to the Doms in Jhaja, who dispose dead bodies off railway tracks and clean human excreta; still railways have been apathetic in imbibing them in its payroll. The crux is, the lower castes play a substantial role at life and death, only to be hypocritically discarded in the interim period.
Disparity in society is not an alien to South India as well. Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and Kerala are states practicing caste distinctions in full throttle. In Madurai, Tamil Nadu, lower caste people are expected to walk barefoot in upper caste localities. Even in Kerala, the Indian state with highest literacy rate, caste distinction prevails.
Gujarat is a striving centre for caste distinction where malice has corroded the souls of school children as well. While Bhangis (Dalits) are forbidden from travelling in chakkads (tempos) in Bhavnagar, Gujrat, Dalit girls are forced with the onus of maintaining sanitation of school wash rooms. Pouring 20 buckets of water daily to clean up the mess is no nondescript job for the 15 year olds. Several students have preferred to drop out of school to save themselves from such plights.
Such throbbing instances show that development is yet to over ride caste. Inclusion of caste in census, touted to be a revolutionary move, will have an important role to play in changing India’s mindset. On one hand it will enlighten us about numerous unrecognized classes striving for recognition and benefits, enlisting those castes which have benefitted immensely from various reservations implemented by the government at the same time. It has been aptly stated by Bhanwar Meghwanshi in his article in the Hindu that more than enlisting castes in the census, under pretext of uplifting social standards of those deprived, measures to eradicate the evil would be more apt. The ruckus created over inclusion of caste in the census, possibly because concerned persons are worried about its implications in their own ways, shows that caste has not gone down many places in our list of priorities.
The trouble lies in the loss of self respect in the down trodden. They are so accustomed in their squalid existence that they have started accepting the step child like as a custom. In Gujarat, Dalits are glad to accept Prasad from the higher castes directly, overlooking that they are not entitled to set their foot inside the temple premises. According to the documentary, India Untouched, a manager of Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation, a harijan, still refuses to be seated on the same platform with a higher caste person, even if offered a seat. Unless they find comfort in asserting their caste with pride, averting the perils of caste distinction is an improbable feat to achieve.
Not only Hinduism is a partisan to such practices. Castes are equally prevalent among Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, implementation of Islam being a tad bit lenient as it allows every Muslim to pray in the same mosque, unlike Christians and Hindus who often have separate temples to offer prayers, biased by caste hierarchy.
Government might have undertaken measures to dispense off the miseries of low caste. However, whether the aid reaches the targeted beneficiaries, unfortunately, depends on what class and caste they belong to. It is imperative to say that it is required to banish the caste distinction from our mind, to inculcate the mentality to realize that the so called low castes are entitled to social security and welfare schemes, at par with higher castes.
All blood, all gore
MOVIE REVIEW: RAKTA CHARITRA
Word of caution: If nausea grips you at the sight of a beheaded and blood bathed chicken, Rakta Charitra is not your cup of tea.
Ram Gopal Verma has always excelled in highlighting the nitty-gritty of the underworld, be it Satya or Company. However, Rakta Charitra falls short of attaining the realism of the aforementioned master pieces by Verma by miles.
His current fascination for red is bound to get to the audience’s nerves inadvertently, courtesy Rakta Charitra. Here, revenge is personified by lacerated and moaning victims, the victor standing by, holding the weapon, eyes gleaming with a pervert desire to kill more.
As with every Ram Gopal Verma movie, the antagonist to the law is the protagonist. Bubka Reddy, portrayed by Abhimanyu Singh, who had earlier shone in Gulal, can be safely concluded as the best choice of character. Portraying a character who is a scrooge in spending words (other than his romps with damsels where he vows to avenge his father’s assassination), alcoholic, sexholic, beastly, vicious, and all other adjectives worth attributing to a man personifying a beast’s incarnation, Abhimanyu excels.
Vivek Oberoi is pale in comparison. Beyond doubt, Oberoi has mastered the art of portraying grey characters, at times black even. However, the wronged character of Ravi Pratap, bereaved by the loss of his family, set out to avenge the loss, is overshadowed by the maniacal Bubka’s might. Oberoi tries his best in spite of looking queer in a double barrel moustache, but failed to rise above the mediocrity of the script.
A major drawback of the movie is that several characters are nipped off in the bud as soon as they start to bloom, be it the fugitive leader of Naxals played by Sushant Singh or the seemingly fearless police officer played by Ashwini Kalsekar, both perishing before Bubka. Similar treatment was meted to Bubka, as he dies a chicken’s death. Such irreverent treatment after raising him to the pedestal of a fear invoking lead character might be considered unjust by many viewers.
Technically, Verma has always been almost impeccable, however sad the script might be. Rakta Charitra is no exception. If you do not object to the diet of blood and gore, maniacs and scheming politicians, rest assured that yawns would maintain a safe distance from you, thanks to the editing. Equally good is the cinematography.
The back ground score and title song calls for a pat in the back. They are two prime contributors in setting the mood of the movie. Though loud at times (subjected to discretion), the back ground score acts as a spice to the murder and vengeance curry which the movie supposedly purports to offer. The title song sounds to be a summary of the movie’s motif.
Rakta Charitra is very much watchable, may not be with girl friend or siblings younger than ten. However, a gang of sanguine bloods is obvious to revel during the screening. It is time for Verma to feel satiated with underworld tales of blood and gore and offer his audience variety, lest he wants to avert oblivion. This piece of cinema might be remembered as an attempt at emulating Tarantino and his portrayal of violent histrionics on screen, however, larger than life projection marring the game for Verma this time.
Word of caution: If nausea grips you at the sight of a beheaded and blood bathed chicken, Rakta Charitra is not your cup of tea.
Ram Gopal Verma has always excelled in highlighting the nitty-gritty of the underworld, be it Satya or Company. However, Rakta Charitra falls short of attaining the realism of the aforementioned master pieces by Verma by miles.
His current fascination for red is bound to get to the audience’s nerves inadvertently, courtesy Rakta Charitra. Here, revenge is personified by lacerated and moaning victims, the victor standing by, holding the weapon, eyes gleaming with a pervert desire to kill more.
As with every Ram Gopal Verma movie, the antagonist to the law is the protagonist. Bubka Reddy, portrayed by Abhimanyu Singh, who had earlier shone in Gulal, can be safely concluded as the best choice of character. Portraying a character who is a scrooge in spending words (other than his romps with damsels where he vows to avenge his father’s assassination), alcoholic, sexholic, beastly, vicious, and all other adjectives worth attributing to a man personifying a beast’s incarnation, Abhimanyu excels.
Vivek Oberoi is pale in comparison. Beyond doubt, Oberoi has mastered the art of portraying grey characters, at times black even. However, the wronged character of Ravi Pratap, bereaved by the loss of his family, set out to avenge the loss, is overshadowed by the maniacal Bubka’s might. Oberoi tries his best in spite of looking queer in a double barrel moustache, but failed to rise above the mediocrity of the script.
A major drawback of the movie is that several characters are nipped off in the bud as soon as they start to bloom, be it the fugitive leader of Naxals played by Sushant Singh or the seemingly fearless police officer played by Ashwini Kalsekar, both perishing before Bubka. Similar treatment was meted to Bubka, as he dies a chicken’s death. Such irreverent treatment after raising him to the pedestal of a fear invoking lead character might be considered unjust by many viewers.
Technically, Verma has always been almost impeccable, however sad the script might be. Rakta Charitra is no exception. If you do not object to the diet of blood and gore, maniacs and scheming politicians, rest assured that yawns would maintain a safe distance from you, thanks to the editing. Equally good is the cinematography.
The back ground score and title song calls for a pat in the back. They are two prime contributors in setting the mood of the movie. Though loud at times (subjected to discretion), the back ground score acts as a spice to the murder and vengeance curry which the movie supposedly purports to offer. The title song sounds to be a summary of the movie’s motif.
Rakta Charitra is very much watchable, may not be with girl friend or siblings younger than ten. However, a gang of sanguine bloods is obvious to revel during the screening. It is time for Verma to feel satiated with underworld tales of blood and gore and offer his audience variety, lest he wants to avert oblivion. This piece of cinema might be remembered as an attempt at emulating Tarantino and his portrayal of violent histrionics on screen, however, larger than life projection marring the game for Verma this time.
Word of caution: If nausea grips you at the sight of a beheaded and blood bathed chicken, Rakta Charitra is not your cup of tea.
Ram Gopal Verma has always excelled in highlighting the nitty-gritty of the underworld, be it Satya or Company. However, Rakta Charitra falls short of attaining the realism of the aforementioned master pieces by Verma by miles.
His current fascination for red is bound to get to the audience’s nerves inadvertently, courtesy Rakta Charitra. Here, revenge is personified by lacerated and moaning victims, the victor standing by, holding the weapon, eyes gleaming with a pervert desire to kill more.
As with every Ram Gopal Verma movie, the antagonist to the law is the protagonist. Bubka Reddy, portrayed by Abhimanyu Singh, who had earlier shone in Gulal, can be safely concluded as the best choice of character. Portraying a character who is a scrooge in spending words (other than his romps with damsels where he vows to avenge his father’s assassination), alcoholic, sexholic, beastly, vicious, and all other adjectives worth attributing to a man personifying a beast’s incarnation, Abhimanyu excels.
Vivek Oberoi is pale in comparison. Beyond doubt, Oberoi has mastered the art of portraying grey characters, at times black even. However, the wronged character of Ravi Pratap, bereaved by the loss of his family, set out to avenge the loss, is overshadowed by the maniacal Bubka’s might. Oberoi tries his best in spite of looking queer in a double barrel moustache, but failed to rise above the mediocrity of the script.
A major drawback of the movie is that several characters are nipped off in the bud as soon as they start to bloom, be it the fugitive leader of Naxals played by Sushant Singh or the seemingly fearless police officer played by Ashwini Kalsekar, both perishing before Bubka. Similar treatment was meted to Bubka, as he dies a chicken’s death. Such irreverent treatment after raising him to the pedestal of a fear invoking lead character might be considered unjust by many viewers.
Technically, Verma has always been almost impeccable, however sad the script might be. Rakta Charitra is no exception. If you do not object to the diet of blood and gore, maniacs and scheming politicians, rest assured that yawns would maintain a safe distance from you, thanks to the editing. Equally good is the cinematography.
The back ground score and title song calls for a pat in the back. They are two prime contributors in setting the mood of the movie. Though loud at times (subjected to discretion), the back ground score acts as a spice to the murder and vengeance curry which the movie supposedly purports to offer. The title song sounds to be a summary of the movie’s motif.
Rakta Charitra is very much watchable, may not be with girl friend or siblings younger than ten. However, a gang of sanguine bloods is obvious to revel during the screening. It is time for Verma to feel satiated with underworld tales of blood and gore and offer his audience variety, lest he wants to avert oblivion. This piece of cinema might be remembered as an attempt at emulating Tarantino and his portrayal of violent histrionics on screen, however, larger than life projection marring the game for Verma this time.
Word of caution: If nausea grips you at the sight of a beheaded and blood bathed chicken, Rakta Charitra is not your cup of tea.
Ram Gopal Verma has always excelled in highlighting the nitty-gritty of the underworld, be it Satya or Company. However, Rakta Charitra falls short of attaining the realism of the aforementioned master pieces by Verma by miles.
His current fascination for red is bound to get to the audience’s nerves inadvertently, courtesy Rakta Charitra. Here, revenge is personified by lacerated and moaning victims, the victor standing by, holding the weapon, eyes gleaming with a pervert desire to kill more.
As with every Ram Gopal Verma movie, the antagonist to the law is the protagonist. Bubka Reddy, portrayed by Abhimanyu Singh, who had earlier shone in Gulal, can be safely concluded as the best choice of character. Portraying a character who is a scrooge in spending words (other than his romps with damsels where he vows to avenge his father’s assassination), alcoholic, sexholic, beastly, vicious, and all other adjectives worth attributing to a man personifying a beast’s incarnation, Abhimanyu excels.
Vivek Oberoi is pale in comparison. Beyond doubt, Oberoi has mastered the art of portraying grey characters, at times black even. However, the wronged character of Ravi Pratap, bereaved by the loss of his family, set out to avenge the loss, is overshadowed by the maniacal Bubka’s might. Oberoi tries his best in spite of looking queer in a double barrel moustache, but failed to rise above the mediocrity of the script.
A major drawback of the movie is that several characters are nipped off in the bud as soon as they start to bloom, be it the fugitive leader of Naxals played by Sushant Singh or the seemingly fearless police officer played by Ashwini Kalsekar, both perishing before Bubka. Similar treatment was meted to Bubka, as he dies a chicken’s death. Such irreverent treatment after raising him to the pedestal of a fear invoking lead character might be considered unjust by many viewers.
Technically, Verma has always been almost impeccable, however sad the script might be. Rakta Charitra is no exception. If you do not object to the diet of blood and gore, maniacs and scheming politicians, rest assured that yawns would maintain a safe distance from you, thanks to the editing. Equally good is the cinematography.
The back ground score and title song calls for a pat in the back. They are two prime contributors in setting the mood of the movie. Though loud at times (subjected to discretion), the back ground score acts as a spice to the murder and vengeance curry which the movie supposedly purports to offer. The title song sounds to be a summary of the movie’s motif.
Rakta Charitra is very much watchable, may not be with girl friend or siblings younger than ten. However, a gang of sanguine bloods is obvious to revel during the screening. It is time for Verma to feel satiated with underworld tales of blood and gore and offer his audience variety, lest he wants to avert oblivion. This piece of cinema might be remembered as an attempt at emulating Tarantino and his portrayal of violent histrionics on screen, however, larger than life projection marring the game for Verma this time.
Friday, March 26, 2010
JOURNALISM AND ME
It was 11th of March (my birthday), 1952, when a heretic named Ernesto Guavera was treading the contours of the Atacama desert in a quest to explore different faces of humanity. It was 23rd of March, 1931, when Bhagat Singh, aged 23 then (I am an year older to him at this juncture), embraced the gallows for the sake of a vision, an independent India.
On being rendered jobless after toiling for 4 years for an engineering degree, I was blessed with some leisure to introspect my aspirations from life. The sagacity of the aforementioned visionaries, and many more, had inculcated in me a sense of social awareness. A fervent desire that had perished a prolonged period of dormancy had started to make it’s presence felt. Journalism, other than the murky Indian politics, offers a platform to opine, get heard and get paid for it! A journalist is bestowed with the onus of bridging the gap between the truth and the mass, thus making it a socially responsible profession as well as a fulfilling experience. The respect and recognition the profession draws has served as an impetus for me to forego the lures of the IT industry and thrive for taking up social causes which have languished in the necropolis for long.
Couple of years down the line, I aspire to make my mark as a journalist whom the society looks up to for truth, logical and impartial opinion. If I succeed in making optimal use of the platform this profession provides to unravel the fallacies in society and make living a pleasure for even a handful of the needy in the process, I would consider my tenure well lived and well served.
It was 11th of March (my birthday), 1952, when a heretic named Ernesto Guavera was treading the contours of the Atacama desert in a quest to explore different faces of humanity. It was 23rd of March, 1931, when Bhagat Singh, aged 23 then (I am an year older to him at this juncture), embraced the gallows for the sake of a vision, an independent India.
On being rendered jobless after toiling for 4 years for an engineering degree, I was blessed with some leisure to introspect my aspirations from life. The sagacity of the aforementioned visionaries, and many more, had inculcated in me a sense of social awareness. A fervent desire that had perished a prolonged period of dormancy had started to make it’s presence felt. Journalism, other than the murky Indian politics, offers a platform to opine, get heard and get paid for it! A journalist is bestowed with the onus of bridging the gap between the truth and the mass, thus making it a socially responsible profession as well as a fulfilling experience. The respect and recognition the profession draws has served as an impetus for me to forego the lures of the IT industry and thrive for taking up social causes which have languished in the necropolis for long.
Couple of years down the line, I aspire to make my mark as a journalist whom the society looks up to for truth, logical and impartial opinion. If I succeed in making optimal use of the platform this profession provides to unravel the fallacies in society and make living a pleasure for even a handful of the needy in the process, I would consider my tenure well lived and well served.
The Split India Movement
I would risk my mere existence to prescribe a special screening of ‘Chakde India’ as a medication to the disease which has beseeched the revered scion of hate politics in India, Baalasaheb Thackeray, to disparage the might of the Indian Constitution time and over again. In a quest to forge a “Maharashtra for Maharashtrians”, the mighty soul has harbingered a series of lash outs against non Maharashtrians, be it a vow to flush out of Mumbai, migrants from UP and Bihar or nourishing a fervent desire to raise a Hindu terrorist faction to exterminate Muslims in India.
Let us retract a few paces in time to the era of British oppression in India. I believe that Baalasaheb is not oblivious of a certain Mangal Pandey, a Bhumiyar Brahmin from UP, who became a martyr, thus insinuating an unrest that eventually culminated to what is famously referred to as the ‘Sepoy Mutiny’. Pandey’s mantle was willingly shared by many. Maharashtra saw the emergence of brave hearts of the order of Rani Laxmibai, Nana Saheb and Tantiya Tope among others, who led a handful of men recalcitrant to British regime, with panache. Their legacy was carried forward by the likes of Baalgangadhar Tilak, Binayak Damodar Savarkar, Gopal Krishna Gokhle etc, who toiled their entire lifetime with the likes of the Lalbahadur Shastris and Jayprakash Narayans, to materialize a vision of free India. It is to remind Baalasaheb, who has mastered the art of staging agitations based on regional bias without an iota of compunction, that an independent India, which has offered him the platform and liberty to be atrocious and hostile to immigrants in Maharashtra, was born out of a vision that surmounted regional or cultural barriers.
Let us steal a sneak peek into how Baalasaheb and his acolytes have carved a niche for themselves in the murky Indian politics. That he has always been vocal about Muslim immigrants and insurgency in India calls for an applause. However, the remedies suggested to eradicate the trouble are worth sending a shiver through one’s spine. Touted as one of the perpetrators of Babri Masjid demolition, Baalasaheb had willingly disgraced the Indian constitution which espouses secularism and had been designed by Bhimrao Ambedkar, a visionary of Maharashtrian origin. His urge to generate a Hindu terrorist faction to annihilate Muslims in India, has been detrimental to his already prevalent radical image. Such opinion has attracted remonstrations from across the country, except from his political brethren with similar notions.
One can hardly avail to expect a softer stance from someone who has voiced his admiration for Hitler and even an ardent desire to emulate the mighty Nazi. In various interviews to Asia Week, Indian Express and Navkal, Baalasaheb has expressed a fervent appreciation for Hitler’s charisma, artistry and organizational skills. (I believe he had missed out on the organizational skills of his Indian predecessors like Swami Vivekananda or Subhash Chandra Bose, who has a more soothing and innocuous impact on world history).
It is unfortunate to reckon that Shiv Sena, over the years, has lost it’s sheen and is a sorry shadow of what it had set out to be at it’s inception. Befriended by a herd of lumpens, the party has indulged in a series of pogroms which has debilitated it’s appeal among the mass. This can be attributed to the party’s obsession with an almost nondescript Marathi culture at the cost of subjugating the more illustrious ones in comparison. The party’s tenacity to curb an individual’s freedom of expression has drawn ire from various quarters as well.
Let us consider a few examples of how Shiv Sena has been subjected to derision for it’s frivolous acts. Needless to say, Baalasaheb lambasting Sachin Tendulker has been touted as the pinnacle of his delirium in recent past. The ‘Little Master’ was convicted of going on air claiming to be an Indian over a Maharashtrian. Off late, Shahrukh Khan’s bewilderment at the exclusion of Pakistani cricketers from the current edition of the IPL registered him in the bad books of Baalasaheb.( Pakistan is the current T20 champions and the presence of pin up boys like Shahid Afridi, Shoaib Malik or Shoaib Akhtar would have boosted ticket sales!!).
Shiv Sena might tend to shove off such allegations under the wraps and blame it on media for such calumny and negative publicity. But one thing for sure is that the Shiv Sainiks find it condescending to make peace with their oppositions. How else does one explain a handful of vandals breaking into and ransacking Mumbai office of IBN Lokmat and IBN 7? This was obviously not a first time for Shiv Sainiks. Back in January 2008, they had been accused of vandalizing journalist Kumar Ketkar’s residence. Even the ‘Bombay Natural History Society’ was not spared of Shiv Sena’s wrath for still lingering on with ‘Bombay’ instead of ‘Mumbai’.
Another aspect where the Sena supreme scores low is the disparaging attitude he cherishes towards his political rivals. It all started in the 60’s with addressing South Indians as ‘lungiwallas’. ( Sir, how about a certain Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan who was selfless enough in sacrificing his precious life while evacuating hostages from Taj Mahal Palace Hotel as a part of operation Black Tornado, in YOUR MUMBAI?). His demeanor towards Rahul Gandhi has raised many eyebrows as the latter was ridiculed as ‘Rome putra’. I wonder what has held Baalasaheb back from denouncing ‘Mumbai Indians’, the IPL franchise owned by Mukesh Ambani. ( Baalasaheb seems to believe Mumbai is for Maharashtrians. Moreover, Mukesh Ambani is a Gujrati by origin).
To conclude, the time is ripe that Baalasaheb and his compatriots realize the need for a change in disposition and abstain from venting spleen on every individual convicted of puncturing Marathi sentiments. That ‘Marathi Manoos’ has a flexible loyality is evident with Congress being at helm for the last couple of years. The facetious approach adopted in implementing grave issues, in the form of hooliganism, makes the entire effort a mere baloney. With one in every four residents of Mumbai hailing from a non Maharashtrian background, a softer stance and acceptability towards a multi cultural Maharashtra would help Shiv Sena emerge out of the ashes with a revamped image and wider social acceptance. Further, it would relieve the octogenarian from the predicament of being touted as the harbinger of the ‘Split India Movement’.
I would risk my mere existence to prescribe a special screening of ‘Chakde India’ as a medication to the disease which has beseeched the revered scion of hate politics in India, Baalasaheb Thackeray, to disparage the might of the Indian Constitution time and over again. In a quest to forge a “Maharashtra for Maharashtrians”, the mighty soul has harbingered a series of lash outs against non Maharashtrians, be it a vow to flush out of Mumbai, migrants from UP and Bihar or nourishing a fervent desire to raise a Hindu terrorist faction to exterminate Muslims in India.
Let us retract a few paces in time to the era of British oppression in India. I believe that Baalasaheb is not oblivious of a certain Mangal Pandey, a Bhumiyar Brahmin from UP, who became a martyr, thus insinuating an unrest that eventually culminated to what is famously referred to as the ‘Sepoy Mutiny’. Pandey’s mantle was willingly shared by many. Maharashtra saw the emergence of brave hearts of the order of Rani Laxmibai, Nana Saheb and Tantiya Tope among others, who led a handful of men recalcitrant to British regime, with panache. Their legacy was carried forward by the likes of Baalgangadhar Tilak, Binayak Damodar Savarkar, Gopal Krishna Gokhle etc, who toiled their entire lifetime with the likes of the Lalbahadur Shastris and Jayprakash Narayans, to materialize a vision of free India. It is to remind Baalasaheb, who has mastered the art of staging agitations based on regional bias without an iota of compunction, that an independent India, which has offered him the platform and liberty to be atrocious and hostile to immigrants in Maharashtra, was born out of a vision that surmounted regional or cultural barriers.
Let us steal a sneak peek into how Baalasaheb and his acolytes have carved a niche for themselves in the murky Indian politics. That he has always been vocal about Muslim immigrants and insurgency in India calls for an applause. However, the remedies suggested to eradicate the trouble are worth sending a shiver through one’s spine. Touted as one of the perpetrators of Babri Masjid demolition, Baalasaheb had willingly disgraced the Indian constitution which espouses secularism and had been designed by Bhimrao Ambedkar, a visionary of Maharashtrian origin. His urge to generate a Hindu terrorist faction to annihilate Muslims in India, has been detrimental to his already prevalent radical image. Such opinion has attracted remonstrations from across the country, except from his political brethren with similar notions.
One can hardly avail to expect a softer stance from someone who has voiced his admiration for Hitler and even an ardent desire to emulate the mighty Nazi. In various interviews to Asia Week, Indian Express and Navkal, Baalasaheb has expressed a fervent appreciation for Hitler’s charisma, artistry and organizational skills. (I believe he had missed out on the organizational skills of his Indian predecessors like Swami Vivekananda or Subhash Chandra Bose, who has a more soothing and innocuous impact on world history).
It is unfortunate to reckon that Shiv Sena, over the years, has lost it’s sheen and is a sorry shadow of what it had set out to be at it’s inception. Befriended by a herd of lumpens, the party has indulged in a series of pogroms which has debilitated it’s appeal among the mass. This can be attributed to the party’s obsession with an almost nondescript Marathi culture at the cost of subjugating the more illustrious ones in comparison. The party’s tenacity to curb an individual’s freedom of expression has drawn ire from various quarters as well.
Let us consider a few examples of how Shiv Sena has been subjected to derision for it’s frivolous acts. Needless to say, Baalasaheb lambasting Sachin Tendulker has been touted as the pinnacle of his delirium in recent past. The ‘Little Master’ was convicted of going on air claiming to be an Indian over a Maharashtrian. Off late, Shahrukh Khan’s bewilderment at the exclusion of Pakistani cricketers from the current edition of the IPL registered him in the bad books of Baalasaheb.( Pakistan is the current T20 champions and the presence of pin up boys like Shahid Afridi, Shoaib Malik or Shoaib Akhtar would have boosted ticket sales!!).
Shiv Sena might tend to shove off such allegations under the wraps and blame it on media for such calumny and negative publicity. But one thing for sure is that the Shiv Sainiks find it condescending to make peace with their oppositions. How else does one explain a handful of vandals breaking into and ransacking Mumbai office of IBN Lokmat and IBN 7? This was obviously not a first time for Shiv Sainiks. Back in January 2008, they had been accused of vandalizing journalist Kumar Ketkar’s residence. Even the ‘Bombay Natural History Society’ was not spared of Shiv Sena’s wrath for still lingering on with ‘Bombay’ instead of ‘Mumbai’.
Another aspect where the Sena supreme scores low is the disparaging attitude he cherishes towards his political rivals. It all started in the 60’s with addressing South Indians as ‘lungiwallas’. ( Sir, how about a certain Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan who was selfless enough in sacrificing his precious life while evacuating hostages from Taj Mahal Palace Hotel as a part of operation Black Tornado, in YOUR MUMBAI?). His demeanor towards Rahul Gandhi has raised many eyebrows as the latter was ridiculed as ‘Rome putra’. I wonder what has held Baalasaheb back from denouncing ‘Mumbai Indians’, the IPL franchise owned by Mukesh Ambani. ( Baalasaheb seems to believe Mumbai is for Maharashtrians. Moreover, Mukesh Ambani is a Gujrati by origin).
To conclude, the time is ripe that Baalasaheb and his compatriots realize the need for a change in disposition and abstain from venting spleen on every individual convicted of puncturing Marathi sentiments. That ‘Marathi Manoos’ has a flexible loyality is evident with Congress being at helm for the last couple of years. The facetious approach adopted in implementing grave issues, in the form of hooliganism, makes the entire effort a mere baloney. With one in every four residents of Mumbai hailing from a non Maharashtrian background, a softer stance and acceptability towards a multi cultural Maharashtra would help Shiv Sena emerge out of the ashes with a revamped image and wider social acceptance. Further, it would relieve the octogenarian from the predicament of being touted as the harbinger of the ‘Split India Movement’.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
SUMAN CHATTOPADHYAY………..THE FALLEN HERO?????????
Once upon a time in the land of the Aryans, there went a tenet that encouraged the Bengalis to bask in the glory of their revered geographical boundary, West Bengal. It was, perhaps still is, hailed as the intellectual capital of India. Why not? With a plethora of recognized and acclaimed achievers in their respective domains tracing their origin here. Be it science, music or literature, one stood no chance in falling short of choices. One had the likes of Tagore, P.C.Sen to vouch for.
However, the aspect hidden from public glare, which in due time became Bengal’s nemesis, was the state’s recalcitrance to accept changes. Submerged in the glory of the predecessors, Bengal was unwilling to keep up with the erstwhile social reforms that were taking the world by storm. Obsessed with ‘Bangaliana’, epitomized with meek, taciturn, dhoti clad ‘Babumoshais’, the state embraced Communism with arms wide open and turned it’s back from everything other than it.
Needless to say, cultural evolution came to a standstill. Bengal, at that juncture, was not ready to look beyond Tagore. ( Readers, this is by no means an attempt to disparage the noble laureate, he is timeless). While the world rocked and rolled with the Beatles, crooned and rode high with Bob Dylan or Jim Morrison, rock and roll in Bengal was incarcerated within a select audience, sardonically classified as the ‘Classes’ by the puritans. A child was berated on expressing a penchant for playing the guitar. An youth was subjected to walking the lonely corridors and parents often contemplated a rehabilitation, if found trying to explore the nuances of rock and roll. It was widely regarded as a condescending act, so dismal was the state.
Amidst such atrocities emerged an emphatic persona, Suman Chattopadhyay, who deserves every bit of adulation for transforming and popularizing the sound of contemporary Bangla music. Needless to say that he was an able successor to Gautam Chattopadhyay, who was touted as the harbinger of contemporary bangle music, popular as ‘Jibonmukhi gaan’. With his advent into this genre of music with ‘Tomake Chai’ back in 1993, suman ably ended the lull that loomed large after Mohiner Ghoraguli, a brainchild of Goutam Chattopadhyay, disintegrated in 1981. The genre dealt with socially relevant issues, punctuated with tunes utterly non existent in the horizon of bangle music till then. Bengal, which had till then been a necropolis for western music, was suddenly all ears to Suman Chattopadhyay. He was inundated with applause from all quarters. Be it Tomake Chai, Gaanwala or Petkaati Chadiyal, the heretic in Suman was distinctly visible. The sagacity of his lyrics had the youth in a frenzy. Being an ardent of Bob Dylan admirer, Suman’s rendition of Dylan was apparent in his compositions like ‘Uttoro To Jaana’.
However, the king’s scepter has it’s fair share of thorns and so did Suman’s ascent to the crest. Though his advent into the bangle music scenario created an urge in many to follow his suit, it did not take his distractors long to shower his music with a plethora of sardonic comments. An esteemed yesteryear’s exponent of Rabindrasangeet even went to the extent of commenting………If this breed of musicians( Suman and his acolytes) christens their music as Jibonmukhi, had we spent all our life in nurturing ‘Moronmukhi’ music. Fortunately, the efficacy of his music helped him steer clear of such derisions.
In Bengal, a musician does not live by his music alone, but his life is put under scanner every now and then. Suman’s turbulent conjugal life, ornated with numerous associations and subsequent splits had already ignited enough ire, which debilitated his audience base. That he converted to Islam and rechristened himself Kabir Suman, to marry Sabina Yasmin, was not taken kindly by a chunk of his audience. That he lacked contrition for this act was termed profane by many. Still, the impact of his music over rode such distractions and prevented Suman, the Musician, to fade into oblivion.
Bengal,a Communist stronghold and rightly so with the ledgend of the late Jyoti Basu, had witnessed a benign amalgamation of culture and communism in the state. The so called cultural stalwarts of the state had always shown a fervent appreciation for the Communists. On the contrary, Suman joining Trinamool Congress, demeaning the glorious history of Communists epitomized by the Che Gueveras, Fidel Castros or M.N. Roys, showed him a poor student of etymology, thus raising many eyebrows. Detractors took no time to label him a gold digger, well versed with the dynamics of Bengal’s murky politics. However, that he still had his veracity in place and joining Trinamool was no ploy to align himself with the emerging political honchos was proved when Suman revolted, time and over again, against the inconsistencies prevailing in his party, thus making a travesty of his critics.
An appeal………let go of his squalid conjugal life, let go of his political ambitions( I doubt if he at all nurtures one!). let he be remembered as a sagacious heretic who enlightened Bangla music with a new sound and an unique perspective with panache. HAIL SUMAN…………..
However, the aspect hidden from public glare, which in due time became Bengal’s nemesis, was the state’s recalcitrance to accept changes. Submerged in the glory of the predecessors, Bengal was unwilling to keep up with the erstwhile social reforms that were taking the world by storm. Obsessed with ‘Bangaliana’, epitomized with meek, taciturn, dhoti clad ‘Babumoshais’, the state embraced Communism with arms wide open and turned it’s back from everything other than it.
Needless to say, cultural evolution came to a standstill. Bengal, at that juncture, was not ready to look beyond Tagore. ( Readers, this is by no means an attempt to disparage the noble laureate, he is timeless). While the world rocked and rolled with the Beatles, crooned and rode high with Bob Dylan or Jim Morrison, rock and roll in Bengal was incarcerated within a select audience, sardonically classified as the ‘Classes’ by the puritans. A child was berated on expressing a penchant for playing the guitar. An youth was subjected to walking the lonely corridors and parents often contemplated a rehabilitation, if found trying to explore the nuances of rock and roll. It was widely regarded as a condescending act, so dismal was the state.
Amidst such atrocities emerged an emphatic persona, Suman Chattopadhyay, who deserves every bit of adulation for transforming and popularizing the sound of contemporary Bangla music. Needless to say that he was an able successor to Gautam Chattopadhyay, who was touted as the harbinger of contemporary bangle music, popular as ‘Jibonmukhi gaan’. With his advent into this genre of music with ‘Tomake Chai’ back in 1993, suman ably ended the lull that loomed large after Mohiner Ghoraguli, a brainchild of Goutam Chattopadhyay, disintegrated in 1981. The genre dealt with socially relevant issues, punctuated with tunes utterly non existent in the horizon of bangle music till then. Bengal, which had till then been a necropolis for western music, was suddenly all ears to Suman Chattopadhyay. He was inundated with applause from all quarters. Be it Tomake Chai, Gaanwala or Petkaati Chadiyal, the heretic in Suman was distinctly visible. The sagacity of his lyrics had the youth in a frenzy. Being an ardent of Bob Dylan admirer, Suman’s rendition of Dylan was apparent in his compositions like ‘Uttoro To Jaana’.
However, the king’s scepter has it’s fair share of thorns and so did Suman’s ascent to the crest. Though his advent into the bangle music scenario created an urge in many to follow his suit, it did not take his distractors long to shower his music with a plethora of sardonic comments. An esteemed yesteryear’s exponent of Rabindrasangeet even went to the extent of commenting………If this breed of musicians( Suman and his acolytes) christens their music as Jibonmukhi, had we spent all our life in nurturing ‘Moronmukhi’ music. Fortunately, the efficacy of his music helped him steer clear of such derisions.
In Bengal, a musician does not live by his music alone, but his life is put under scanner every now and then. Suman’s turbulent conjugal life, ornated with numerous associations and subsequent splits had already ignited enough ire, which debilitated his audience base. That he converted to Islam and rechristened himself Kabir Suman, to marry Sabina Yasmin, was not taken kindly by a chunk of his audience. That he lacked contrition for this act was termed profane by many. Still, the impact of his music over rode such distractions and prevented Suman, the Musician, to fade into oblivion.
Bengal,a Communist stronghold and rightly so with the ledgend of the late Jyoti Basu, had witnessed a benign amalgamation of culture and communism in the state. The so called cultural stalwarts of the state had always shown a fervent appreciation for the Communists. On the contrary, Suman joining Trinamool Congress, demeaning the glorious history of Communists epitomized by the Che Gueveras, Fidel Castros or M.N. Roys, showed him a poor student of etymology, thus raising many eyebrows. Detractors took no time to label him a gold digger, well versed with the dynamics of Bengal’s murky politics. However, that he still had his veracity in place and joining Trinamool was no ploy to align himself with the emerging political honchos was proved when Suman revolted, time and over again, against the inconsistencies prevailing in his party, thus making a travesty of his critics.
An appeal………let go of his squalid conjugal life, let go of his political ambitions( I doubt if he at all nurtures one!). let he be remembered as a sagacious heretic who enlightened Bangla music with a new sound and an unique perspective with panache. HAIL SUMAN…………..
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