Suspicion post Nov 26th

November 26, 2008 – Has it just become another date for us to reckon with? A date which we popularly call 26/11, why because it is reminiscent of 9/11 or just sounds horribly familiar?

This was the date all of us in Mumbai felt anguish, helplessness, irritability and more so self pity. Some of our most valued landmarks CST, Taj and Oberoi-Trident were attacked and that too so easily. It just took a few completely brain washed and misguided to youth to sail into our city with guns, hire a cab, enter these landmarks and scar our lives forever, taking the entire city hostage, as simple as that.

For the first few days, there was aggression, unification and a desperate want for change. However, this aggression was just till talk shows; candle lit marches and political blame games. Within a few months everything went back to what it was. The fight for the right of the “Marathi Manoos” started again – so much for us being united. Again Mumbai turned up with the most dismal voting figures. Filmmakers and channels tried to cash on this issue by carrying out short telefilms on the issue, registering film titles relevant to the film, coming out with terror based films and worst of all B grade 26/11 films like 26/11- the love story of Kasab. Yes, a love story based on one of the men who traumatised millions and has 31 crores being spent on him. Our judicial system is still as slow, like the 1993 riot report has come out sixteen years later, wonder when Kasab will finally be convicted. Our security systems are like what it was before showing equal number of lapses. To show that security has been boosted, well there have been security guards at all public places which do the most foolproof checking – opening the bag, putting their hand in the bag and removing it in less than a second and letting you proceed. They wouldn’t even know if you are carrying a penknife forget anything else.

However, there is something which has aggravated and that is suspicion and distrust. Though we all seemed unified that night and a few nights later, after that the suspicion in our minds was suddenly ignited. When we suddenly see too much of hustle bustle or many security guards, for a minute we wonder, “Is everything ok or is there a problem?” When traveling we tend to be a little more cautious and with strangers we think twice before making any kind of conversation with them especially if they are perceived to behave strangely. In fact there were some people who even cried bomb hoaxes to check on the alertness of the police. To add to the trouble are these frivolous mock drills conducted by the cops which are literally a mockery of the situation. Especially when they say that, “this will help you know what you are supposed to do when such an incident takes place again.” Seriously, our they waiting for one more? These are still minor suspicions. Unfortunately this incident has also brainwashed others into thinking that if you belong to a particular community you may as well be a terrorist also. So it’s not only youngster like Kasab who have been misguided but some of us have been misguided by their own perceptions.

I myself remember someone abruptly stopping conversation with me in the bus after getting to know that I am Muslim. However, it’s not only some people suspecting Muslim but it is vice-versa also. A lot of Muslims won’t interact with others because they believe either the opposite person will consider them as terrorists, or they consider them as “kafirs”, or they are just insecure about their own religious identity getting lost. Our media made a big hullabaloo when Shahrukh Khan was detained at the Newark Airport because of his Muslim identity, what are we doing? We have defined a religion with an interpretation of Jihad. The ironic part is we have learnt the interpretation from these brainwashed people known as terrorists.

We aren’t only suspicious about the people living in our on country but it just gets heightened when you say you are a Muslim and that too from Pakistan. Why do we forget that every Pakistani is not a Hafeez Saeed, is not a Kasab and not a Zardari? There are innocent people there who are victims as well. However, for them all we have is a culmination of suspicion and hatred. I am not saying all of us feel that way but a majority do. When you enter the Pakistani embassy in New Delhi, you will be tracked by an Indian official, at the immigration you will be asked the same question a million time “Why are you going there?” sternly and when you reach Pakistan you are asked the same question but with curiosity, after all “you are Indian so you must be hating us”.

Both ways this suspecting behaviour is just tearing us more apart than bringing us closer. We may keep saying that these terror attacks were meant to shake us up and let’s prove to them that they have failed, we are still together. However, somewhere in our minds we have been shaken up into becoming more suspicious people.

Mock Drill

While everyone has spoken about the polices reaction time and their efficiency during the mock drill conducted a few days back maybe we need to even highlight the 2 hours of grueling experience faced by some people within the Nucleus Mall.
At around 4.45pm, while we were working out at the Abs Fitness and Wellness Club, in Nucleus mall a group of officers with guns and in plains clothes entered the gym and took a look around. Though we were quite amused to see them and also a little weary of the fact that we cannot move out of the place till the drill is over, we weren’t quite tense initially as we were informed beforehand that it was a mock drill.

Then all of a sudden all of us were rounded up by the cops and told by these armed officers that we need to be taken to the Bund Garden Police Station for an identification check-up and if by any chance any of us stay back or question we will be “marked as terrorists”. So from there only the people in the gym were taken down to the road and stuffed in rickety rackety police vans – while the rest of the people in the mall and on the roads looked upon us. From there we were taken in to the police station where were made to identify ourselves. The identification process included us waiting in the police station till another police official was free to take down our names, addresses and contact numbers sans any proof to verify that we our who we truly our. After that ordeal was over we were made to walk back to the mall as they did not have free transport to take us back. On our route back it was more amusing to find cops drinking chai and chatting with each other and grinning at us and other passer bys wondering why we were made to go to the police station.
I do not have an issue with them conducting a mock drill but yes, I do have issues with the way it was conducted. Firstly, why were only we made to go to the police station and not anyone else? Well, one of the cops said because they gym was crowded well so was the rest of the mall. Secondly, how can the cops threaten anyone during a mock drill to come with them forcibly to the police station or else we will be marked as terrorists? If we knew and were informed there is going to be a mock drill it is a little difficult to believe that these cops did not. Thirdly, why were we cramped up as though we were a bunch of criminals and taken to the police station they could have easily called someone to take down are names, phone numbers and addresses in the mall itself. Fourthly, what kind of an identification check-up is this supposed to be without any identity proof? First you tell us if we don’t come you are a terrorist and then you believe our identity just by word of mouth. Lastly, why were our 2 and a half hours wasted in what could also be called a humiliating experience. If it is for our safety, well, how are we to trust our cops when one says it’s a mock drill, one says there are unwanted elements in the city so we are checking out the mall and another says because we have to check the mall as its on the hit list. Its high time they are honest at least to the people whose time they are wasting and also looking at the overweight officers who look far from fit walking around the mall asking if we think anyone looks suspicious, I don’t think we will feel safe. Next time they are conducting a mock drill maybe they should take into consideration of not wasting our time and not making civilians feel like criminals.

Film Review- Ajab Prem Ki Gazab Kahaani

Till now the name Prem was synonymous with one actor – Salman Khan. Well, I guess it’s time for the audience to move on because Rajkumar Santoshi has introduced for us Prem in a new avatar – Ranbir Kapoor.

Ajab Prem Ki Gazab Kahani is about Prem a happy go lucky guy and not to forget the president of Happy Club. His motto is to be happy and to see to it that everyone around him is also happy. However, his father (Darshan Jariwalla) isn’t that happy as he feels he is wasting his time. Prem’s life is going on smoothly helping estranged lovers meet and fooling around with his co-founders of Happy Club until he bumps into Jennifer aka Jenny (Katrina Kaif). His encounter with Jenny is a riotous mix-up which leads to him falling in love with her and him trying to do everything to woo her, even if it meant going for a job. His journey to woo her will make you giggle in your seats with his antics, expressions and cheesy one liners. Especially Shammi Kapoorish dance movements during a dance party and his talk with Jesus asking for “fixing his photo” in Jenny’s heart steal the show.

However, what is a love story without a twist. Enter Rahul Challan (Upen Patel), the man who Jenny loves but cant marry because his power hungry father (Govind Namdeo) wont have him marrying a Christian especially during elections. But since Prem is our archetypical bollywood hero, he cant see his lady loves heart break and hence decided to do everything to get them together. So from pacifying a corrupt politician to saving her from a mirthful goon, Prem does everything for her till the end which is apt and logical.

The strongest part of the film is its casting barring Upen Patel who has hammed throughout the film. Darshan Jariwalla and Smita Jaykar as Prem’s parents have given impressive performances elevating the humorous scenes to another level all together. Govind Namdeo is good as a crooked politician but somehow takes away the comedy from the film. Katrina Kaif has managed to match up to Ranbir Kapoor and this time her accent complements her character. This time she has emerged from just being pretty. Ranbir Kapoor is at his best. His acting is so effortless that you cant really make out the difference between Ranbir and Prem.

After a cult film like Andaz Apna Apna, Rajkumar Santoshi doesn’t let you down but neither does he live up to the same level, though there are a few scenes which remind you of the first. The comic scenes are well executed and he has packed quite a few punches in the film though there are a few slapstick moments. The drawback of the film is the length as the film seems a bit dragged. Pritam once again pitches in with a good soundtrack which is fresh and breezy just like the film.
All together, APKGK is fresh breezy romantic comedy with a lot of peaks a few valleys and some cheesy yet cheeky humor.

A Man who understood women

During the Elizabethan era there came to light one of the world’s most renowned authors – William Shakespeare. For some he was revolutionary, for others a rebel. Sometimes he was labeled racist and sometimes homosexual. According to me he was a feminist, who believed in liberating women than just leaving them to a pedestal of pretty delicate homely creatures.

Most authors in that era were quite stereotypical in their characterization of women characters. They would more than often just be the mother, sister or wife. Their hobbies would be restricted to music, reading, cooking and perhaps gardening. Women would be portrayed as either the damsel in distress or the good tempered love interest or just the interfering mother. Gossiping about the neighbourhood would be their only work and their only consensus in life would be to get married, have babies and keep everyone happy. Basically more or less, like our saas-bahu sagas.
Like a whiff of fresh air came in Shakespeare to end these stereotypes and bring in women who were educated and liberated. He brought out their feelings of anger, jealousy, vindication, happiness, pride and love which till then only men seem to possess. He showed them to be ambitious, revengeful, deceitful, courageous and decisive which seemed to be the birth right of men alone. For majority of his plays it was the women who would drive the plot further. They would form the climax and leave an inherent trail through the story. They were more than just a doormat and lived to be more than just a piece of furniture in the house. All this was managed in a day and age where women weren’t even allowed to be a part of plays, even their characters were played by either men or transgenders.

Shakespeare’s women have always had various facets and shades to their characters. Portia from The Merchant of Venice was the cross dressing clever vixen. She has the guts and the intellect to save her husband’s best friend in a court room full of men. Then there was the shrewd Katherine from The Taming of the Shrew. Though the end was a bit contradictory, she was independent, sarcastic, egoistic and iconic. The Twelfth Night brought us to another cross dresser Viola. She was a go getter, a charmer and slightly deceitful. Not only could she make any man go weak on his knees but women too. In Loves Labour Lost, the Princess of France and her two friends actually made their lovers break their vows and fall in love with them. They beat them in intelligence and had no mercy when it came to playing practical jokes on them. Yet they kept them grounded and taught them worldly values so what if one of them was a king and two his fellow knights men. Without these ladies neither of these comedies would be the classics they were.

One of Shakespeare’s most powerful characters was Lady Macbeth. She was ambitious and determined. She believed in where there is a will there is a way even if that way meant murder. She wasn’t a traditional wife as she was manipulative, dominating and selfish. Cordelia from King Lear wasn’t your archetypical daughter. Though she doted over her father, her love wasn’t blind. She was blunt and spoke the truth even if hurt the person she loved the most. She had a mind of her own and wasn’t blinded with fake promises and money. Desdemona from Othello lived life on her own terms and beliefs. Though she had many suitors she chose the man she loved even though it disappointed her father. She was a rebel, yet found a respectable place in society.

His women were neither black nor white. It was as though Shakespeare has in depth knowledge even when women were repressed about their complexities. Though he died his characters lived on forever because they were identifiable with every generation till date though they were written 400 ears ago. So even before the feminist movements and women empowerment talks, there was a feminist – William Shakespeare.

Reacting over the "Flu"

Practically everyone knows the incompetence by which India has dealt with the Influenza Type A – H1N1, which, is more commonly known as swine flu. A travel abroad has just made that belief stronger and has highlighted the laidback attitude of the government and our so called health officials.
In the last ten days besides the Indian airport I have been to the Kuala Lumpur and Hong Kong airport as well. Before disembarking at Kuala Lumpur or Hong Kong a detailed health form which included questions on ones travel itinerary for the past one month, health related queries and also if one has been in contact with anyone suffering from the disease. On entering the airport not only was the form but also we were visually examined before getting clearance to go past immigration. Beefing up the scrutiny even further were sensors placed at the gates which would beep when anyone with the slightest amount of fever even passed.
As though these measures weren’t enough Hong Kong even went a step further. Chinese aren’t particularly known for their sweetness in nature, and can give some of the meanest looks which kind of make you uncomfortable even though most of them are some 5 feet nothing. Having said that, the airport is filled with their health officers who don’t even wince before taking you on the side and stuff a thermometer down your mouth if they suspect you even the slightest bit. If by any chance one does have fever no amount of reports or explanations will stop them from quarantining you and on top of that the language issue. However, even with all these precautions no one is deeply inconvenienced and at least there is a sign of seriousness in tackling the issue.
Now coming to Chatrapati Shivaji airport, Mumbai. Even here before disembarking a form needs to be filled. However, if you first questions answer i.e. “Have you visited U.S.A., Mexico or Canada in the last ten months?”. If your answer happens to be no the rest of the form can be left empty. On disembarking the flight we have to walk in a single file to the health officers. Trust me the line is awfully slow, maybe they should learn something from the immigration officers. The slowness of the line gets even more irritating after you have passed the health check. The reason being, the masked health officers don’t even glance at your face to see if you have any symptoms and neither do they read the form you have filled. They just very conveniently flip over to the page they are to sign, sign and let you proceed.
Now with this apathetic attitude towards this epidemic how do we really plan on stopping the disease, especially since we know that most of the carriers are people who have come from abroad. The difference in tackling the issues in other countries compared to ours shows why at least they can control the situation and we can’t. Pondering over the issue won’t help its action that leads to a reaction.

(Dis)Colouring Mumbai

We always blame the BMC and other various state departments for not doing enough for Mumbai. Especially, when it comes to beautification or the upkeep of landmarks. However, have we realised how hypocritical we are and looked upon the fact on how we do nothing to make their work easier, or how to make our city look cleaner.
Just a few days back the BMC took the initiative of adding a touch of colour to the Tulsi Pipe road. Many citizens and The Wall Project (a group of graffiti artists) came together to paint the walls of that long stretch of road from Mahim to Lower Parel, which, otherwise bore a very depressing and filthy look. No sooner was the work completed that the wall was very uncouthly and haphazardly covered with film posters. One fails to understand why a film producer who has spent so much money on making his film cant spend a little more and use hoardings for publicity instead. Also, how can he promote his art by actually ruining someone else’s. These are the same people belonging to our elite upper crust section of society whose views our sought after concerning any issue dealing with our city. I wonder after this damage caused what Mr. Amitabh Bachchan who blogs of everything in the world from Indians in Australia to how his house gets flooded during the monsoons say about this, as it is his film posters that have been very shamelessly pasted on the wall.
Our politicians aren’t too far behind. Come elections or any important event it they do not even wink an eyelid before placing a banner wherever they feel like. Just a few days back, at Chembur, at the circle of the Shivaji Statue, instead of being surrounded by a garden the statue seemed to be surrounded by banners instead. There wasn’t a single candidate from an independent one to one belonging to a party who did not have his banner put up. In fact most of the major roads in the city end up looking like a printing factory looking at the number of banners put up. It high time they realise these ugly banners which cover landmarks, signboards and signals do not quite appeal to the eye.
Its not only this one issue which has brought about this thought but in general we Mumbaites find it extremely difficult to maintain something new. We can take our local trains for example. The minute we got new trains it did not take very long till the interiors were spattered with spit stains, walls covered with notices and advertisements, and the floor adorned with different forms of garbage ranging from paper to food products. Honestly is it that difficult for us to keep things clean or is it that we love being called a city of slums. Hence, we just love to be surrounded with filth wherever we go.
Just by making a few residential areas look pretty and by putting up “Clean Mumbai” banners this city won’t stay clean. We as citizens need to be the change we won’t to see by maybe questioning our morality or taking heed of our actions irrespective of which class we belong to.

Film Review - Wake up Sid

The director is many a times touted as the captain of the ship and where Wake up Sid is concerned debutante director Ayaan Mukherjee has definitely lived up to that statement.
The film revolves essentially around two characters - the primary being Siddhart Mehra aka Sid (Ranbir Kapoor) the lazy, carefree, spoilt rich brat whose only consensus in life happens to be partying, sleeping and hanging out with his two best buddies Rishi (Namit Das) and Laxmi (Shikha Talsania). For him life is a holiday wherein he takes his father Ram Mehra’s (Anupam Kher) wealth for granted and his hinglish speaking mother Sarita’s (Supriya Pathak) emotions are ignored. On the other hand is the career oriented, focussed and ambitious Aisha Bannerjee (Konkona Sen Sharma), an aspiring writer from Kolkata, who has come to make it big in the city of Mumbai and not Bombay to be precise. When their lives intertwine and how they make each others lives complete is what forms the basic crux of the film.
Wake up Sid follows those two very basic journeys of our youth. One of finishing graduation without any vision for the future like Sid and growing up to be a responsible person with the help of someone like Aisha. The second – like Aisha having a goal and realising that the journey of reaching there doesn’t have to be all work and can be mixed with a bit of fun thanks to Sid.
What works for the film are the brilliantly etched characters and the perfect cast. The simple story line and the way it is narrated connects with the audience immediately and for that Ayaan Mukherjee deserves all the credit. The first hour, right till the intermission, sweeps you off your feet. You get drawn into Sid's world instantaneously; you react to everything he does. But the post-interval portions slacken, courtesy the writing. Also Rahul Khanna in a special appearance seems wasted. However, towards the finale the film suddenly perks up.

Ayaan Mukherjee packs in a solid punch with the emotional scenes leaving you moist-eyed especially gets you all moist-eyed and the humorous ones leaving you with a smile. The music (Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy) is melodious and the songs don’t hamper the flow of the film. The cinematography is top notch and the camera work is clean.
Coming to the performances Ranbir Kapoor definitely stands out. He has played Sid so effortlessly proving that he is a truly gifted actor. While Konkona Sen Sharma is a natural and as usual gives a power packed performance. Not to forget the chemistry the two share is mind blowing. Anupam Kher and Supriya Pathak are a delight to watch.

On the whole, Wake Up Sid is a well-made metro-centric film that should strike a chord with the youth mainly.

A poem on Female Infanticide

She is the creator,
It’s through her that life evolves.
She is a caretaker,
Thanks to her a house is a home.
She is the epitome of love,
And sacrifice, perseverance and strength.
Yet she is looked down upon,
Yet she is tortured and made to mourn,
Yet she isn’t given her worth,
Yet she is killed before her birth.
Before she sees the world around,
Before a tear can even crawl down,
Before she has taken her first step,
Before she could breathe her first breath.

She could have grown up to be someone big,
A Kiran Bedi or a Madhuri Dixit.
A child prodigy she could have become,
But she wasn’t even given that one chance.

We closed her eyes and along with it ours.
We ignored the reality and lived in beliefs of the past.
“Why burden ourselves?” Is what we thought,
When killing that tiny little tot.
Not once did we weep,
Not once did our heart bleed.
We just witnessed the merciless act
And chose to ignore the fact.
Today, the equal society we live in
Has around thousand men to pitch in.
But for every thousand of those males,
Exists only 850 females.

The number is dropping as years go by
But we just ignore it and let it pass by.
We need to wake up and see the truth
Female infanticide is still rampant, in urban areas too.
The change needs to be made, one needs to take a call
Stop killing her now or it won’t stop at all.

Letters in the time of internet

Dear Letter,

To be quite honest, it took me a few Jane Austen novels to make me ponder about you. To remember my school days wherein one of the only ways to communicate with someone were handwritten letters and even during the initial years of the internet age, as the internet was only accessible to a privileged few.

Gone are the days when one would go scurrying to the mailbox to find letters of a loved one or impatiently stalk the postman for a much awaited reply. Now our mailboxes are only checked for bills, notices or invitations. Thanks to the internet we have even forgotten the feeling of what it is like to receive a letter. First, find letters addressed to us were normal and today if we even spot one it is received with shock and surprise. Reading those long, lengthy, descriptive letters which comprised of a whole lot of experiences of many days put together is replaced by day to day one liners through emails or status messages on social networking sites.

Sending you to someone involved a unique process all together. Selecting the kind of paper, depending on who the recipient is. Considering the ink to be used. The flow of the fountain pen and to make sure the handwriting was impeccable as it should not only be readable but it added a different sensibility all together to the word. Sitting with the dictionary to avoid those nitty-gritty errors and reading them over and over again to make sure nothing is left out and everything written is perfect. Whereas, now everything is sorted out with just a click. One right click takes care of the font which by no means resembles our own, an animation which maybe in our dreams we could not draw and corrects our errors in just one glance, which, would have otherwise been found out after three to four readings.

The ways of interaction through the internet haven’t only in a way edited our writings considerably but also deteriorated our grammar. Today for many even picking up a pen seems like an effort. Somewhere down the line even though emails and social networking sites have made us more up to date about each other’s lives, the emotion is lost. We kind of take it for granted that the other person is fine because they are actively online immaterial whether you have received an email or not. While earlier, not receiving a letter would create a sense of panic.

Even the concept of pen pals has done a disappearing act. You want an unknown friend from some faraway place, just add them on facebook or chat with them online. After all who really has the patience to find out about someone through an exchange of several letters when you can just log on to their profile and find out all about him and her, right?

Yes, the internet has made longer distances closer but it has also caused the downfall of the art of letter writing. It has made us forget about you, about reading those one page long or sometimes even longer versions of you. To be honest, how many of us have the patience to even sit through a page long email for that matter. It would be if once in a while we took the effort to send one of you or else it wont be long when we heard or read about you in old films or classic novels.

In your remembrance…..