Ajith Nair

Rewind to July 2006. Until 10th July, it was just another monsoon month in Mumbai. On the 11th day it became the day the nerve of the city, the suburban rail, actually burst and oozed blood. The natural disaster that monsoon had caused the previous year, came back as a man made one to create panic, fear and chaos all over again. Everyone had a prayer on their lips that day, some for the departed, many for the untraced and everyone for the future. The next day, Mumbai came back to work. The media called it the Spirit of Mumbai, only the true Mumbaikar could sense that look on everyone’s face that day. The local trains were packed as usual but each of them had a new passenger, terror. In Mumbai Meri Jaan, Nishikant Kamat, extracts that terror out of Mumbaikar’s hearts and places it on the screen. He visits homes, hearts and minds of all kinds and tells the story sitting in there. In a city where feelings are kept at home as people head out to work, the vulnerability of the average Mumbai...

Part one Act I: Switzerland Boy meets girl Boy greets girl Boy dates girl boy drops girl Act 2 Mumbai The above four steps all over again. With a different girl.And different location of course Act 3 Sydney Boy meets girl Boy greets girl boy dates girl girl drops boy Part 2- Pessimistic What part 2? Part 2- Optimistic Act 1 Amritsar Boy is rueful Girl 1 is woeful Her hubby is nice unromantic but wise Boy plays cupid so wat if it looks stupid he restores their love forgiven and how! Act 2- Italy Boy is rueful Girl 2 is now a bitch he says sorry but she's got a hitch he has to play her waiter she couldn't put it straighter he's forgiven too easy and its happy days again they hug n smile and he's off on a plane Act 3- Sydney Girl 3 and Boy live happily ever after. Bah!!!

The innocuous transport of the aam aadmi has a tarnished image now. The mazdoor’s transport, a symbol of penury is now a weapon of terrorists. In fact its being exploited for its inherent characteristic, that of being Indian, hoi polloi and indistinguishable in any marketplace. The cyclist has always been a simple man, in films either the postman or a simpleton peon who carries the burden of a large family, struggling to do so. During the bad times, the cycle represents the vicious cycle that he is caught in, the good times the cycle represents wheels of progress. Mass produced and mass consumed, the cycle can even claim to be one of the biggest uniting symbols of the Indian mass, irrespective of culture and language. Even the names of the biggest cycle brands, Hero, Hercules, Atlas are quite a revelation about the burden that the cycle is meant to carry. Its earnestness is not lost to the aam aadmi, there is exponential relation of an ignition and acceleration. The equation is honest...

Its deja vu and the frequency is now alarming. Serial bomb blasts are now more frequent than Indian test defeats and in both cases, more often than not there is a foreign hand. As I had written in May 2007 ,the govt and related pillars seem to have perfected the reaction to a blast scenario. Its both amusing and saddening. All this happens so perilously close, it could be you next or the time after that. What seemed so distant when blast reports used to come from Israel, Iraq, Kabul or even Kashmir is suddenly upon us, staring us in the eye. The perpetrators also seem to be increasingly like you and me. Laptops, emails, for all you know he travels with you everyday and plots your death too. He went to the same school or the same kind of school, chased the same dreams and ate at the same wada pav stall. You might have brushed past him at the crowded marketplace or asked him the way to a particular address. He might have been part of that cricket team that you fought with many years ago ...

A bad foot meant that I was immobile and locked in one position this Monday. After flipping innumerable boring channels, I chanced upon one where all the action was. Lok Sabha tv, i knew this one existed, or atleast deserved to exist, just to showcase the tomfoolery of our elected representatives.I missed the PM speak, but then haven't most people over the last four years :) An economist who stays quiet is a dangerous sign, even more so if he's also the PM. His adversary and the fat book autobiographer was much more vocal today. Though, unlike the Advani we know, he made two fundamental mistakes. One to say that Pandit Nehru never signed the NPT, how could he when he died in 1964 and the NPT came into existence around 1970.The next was to expose the opportunistic politics of his govt by claiming that the Congress is a destabiliser. Pranab da cashed in well on these two and in true Bengali mishti style, drove home these two hard hitting points during his speech. The opposition b...

I was at the inaugural Gallup Behavior Economics Forum in Singapore this week. The forum brought together some great minds from within Gallup and outside and discussed the concepts of well being among other things. It was heartening to hear ministers and bureaucrats from Singapore talk about the way they have and they intend to, think about their city. The minster of defense mentioned four aspects that they have always focused on in creating the great city. Leadership scheme and how they can develop potential leaders in all spheres of life., the fact that there is anticipation of change and preparedness for it, the concept of reward for work and work for reward and the constant effort to create a state that is for everyone and offers opportunity for all. Come to think of it, these four will work well for organizations too. An ex bureaucrat mentioned a framework which explained the various levels at which governance operates and how cities should look to move continually on that path. ...

RGV thank god you’re back. After Satya and Company, the man had lost his way. He’s back now and Sarkar Raj is better than the prequel. It’s a gripper on screen, keeps you in the zone, living breathing and dying with the characters. The camera angles are unique, side shots, up close and personal, Abhishek’s beard, Ash’s lips, The Big Bs wrinkles. The shadows are omnipresent, the darkness being part of both the plot and the screen. In the background, the chants of Govinda don’t seem force fit, and the score blends tightly to fasten you to your seat even more. There is an abrupt reset to silent mode right from when you enter the theatre. Most dialogues are in expression and what’s unsaid is what is beautifully said. Speech is a luxury, scarce but scathing. The delivery is even better. There are no breathers on this treadmill; the run is slow poison, thank god for the interval. Ramu’s magic is best visible on Abhishek, Shankar fills the screen up making props and people pale. He plays the ...

There are some examples that I have seen recently that tell me that the journey towards a service oriented economy is not mere lip service. Let me start with what is or rather was the biggest point of pain in my life, the Internet connection, rather the lack of it most times. Like most white collar Indians, the predilection for anything multi national is a given. So I preferred Hathway over Tata Indicom, Satyam or even the sloth MTNL. Let me summarise my experience succinctly, Hathway delighted me on only one count, shutting up when I asked them to, over an inebriated, frustrated phone conversation. Repeated line drops, non collection of payment cheques (also implying no payment avenues except home collection of cheques), adhoc disconnections, adhoc disconnections (the former meaning purposive, the latter meaning vagaries of the connectivity). So I had a black cable emerging like an umbilical cord from my laptop but then the baby was long dead. With a heavy heart and an unjustly light ...

Looks like a dog strayed in the path of a Kingfisher airline . It’s interesting to note that dogs seem to have a way of getting through most security cordons. Follow street dogs around any fence and they will show you a breach that no one could anticipate. Dogs have been the most evolutionary creature of our times. They way they have adapted to rapid urbanization is telling of how this animal might be still around when humans as a race are long on, maybe that’s saying too much. Right since when Laika visited space to when Zanjeer sniffed out RDX, the celebration of canines has gone hand in hand with pelting them with stones. In urban centers, you’ll find dogs cluster smartly around where the sources of food are. This could be outside where an animal lover lives to the vicinity of garbage bins. You can also see visible efforts by dogs to mingle. So they’re curled up at bus stops, right there around marriage halls, frequently found at the heels of anyone carrying a food bag and probably ...

Ratan Tata will now drive Jaguar or even a land Rover. His servants servants will drive the Nano. Singur will produce the small car and London will deliver the big ones. Meanwhile, we also have some very rich Indians in the Forbes list and many more Indians buying yachts and islands. A crore is spelt easier than peanuts and doesn’t have too much value unless it has four or more digits in front of it. Personally, I know people who have invested a crore to buy matchbox houses at corners of Mumbai which don’t get much light, what an irony. Everybody wants their kid to have an IB education, a foreign degree and earn the highest salary. Money seems to have overcrowded our minds and our conversations. Off late, in Mumbai’s public transport, you can find ample examples of wannabe noveau riche conversations. Right from ESOP windfalls, to making a killing in the stock market (sometimes being killed by it too), the average Mumbaikar (probably Indian too) is looking at the cash tills all the time...

Don’t look the RSS is changing,. Especially because it’s changing its trousers, to be precise the khaki no longer is mandatory. There are several, reasons that come immediately to mind when one thinks about the Sangh shorts. The first fiendish thought, and there are many more to come, is on the fact that the shorts revealed more than it concealed. True to the vociferous nature of many a RSS spokesperson, the khaki shorts was also flamboyant and expansive. The trouble is, such exposure doesn’t augur too well for a party that has repeatedly stood for adequate clothing as the true indicator of moral character and conversely has violently taken down many a skimpily clad poster and people. There are some other rather obvious connections with the khaki, the notorious one being that with the cops. Given that nowadays, everyone from ex cops (KPS Gill) to encounter specialists are getting the wrong end of the (hockey) stick, the RSS probably wants to distance itself from such peeves. Its worthw...

The Mumbai IPL team is practicing on the eve of their first encounter at Wankhede. Standing by the side, Sachin is chewing on his nails. He awaits a crucial encounter. Enter Raj Thackeray, the local goon, and the bone of contention. He is demanding his pound of flesh and a couple of spots in the Mumbai side for the locals. For the first time, inspite of not being on 99, Sachin Tendulkar is tense. Raj comes straight to the point “Chaila (Marathi expression for what the hell!), I want sons of the soil in the team, not some foreign players. Sachin bhau, I respect you, but this is unfair. Aamcha Mumbai cha team, aani phakt ekas marathi manoos (Our Mumbai side and only one Marathi native!) Sachin tries to leave that argument alone, and raises his arms in helplessness. Mukeshbhai entered the stadium just then, two bodyguards and four petis with other lackeys. “Raj bhai kaise ho, suna hai aapko bhi cricket khelna hai?” “Dekho Mukeshbhai, aapke office mein hamare bahut saare ladke hain isliye...

It is very comic to see movie theatre patrons struggle to keep the sanctity of the national anthem alive. For the uninitiated, all movie theatres in Mumbai, play the national anthem before any movie starts. Am not too sure if it happens with the sleazy Pyaasi Jawani kind of movie halls but I can vouch for the others (smart way of making a clean morality statement!) I can imagine why this whole national anthem rendition started. A self appointed upholder of India’s morals would have decided that our country gets corrupted in the movie theatres. So the national anthem was the anti dote that audiences would consume before they expose their senses to debauchery There are multiple spoilers to the national anthem. The one that comes to mind immediately is the fact that most audiences are not in their seats when the national anthem is being played, they’re still strolling in (blame it on traffic, obesity, bad signs in theatres and lack of civic sense). Some people find sadistic pleasure in cr...

Curled up within In an unseasonal cold At the bus stop A petty mongrel old He sees winter clothes People wrapped snug Adjusting their shawls And ear plug Crowds never die At the tea stall And there’s only few Hearing the kulfi call No one ventures to kick him Or pelt stones Life is peaceful So what if there are no bones In a city of cold stares And crowds of strangers There’s someone loving the cold It’s the petty mongrel old

Didn’t take much to get him to do his swansong, did it? A few dropped chances, self appointed critics calling for his head and out walked the man who could have easily blazed victories for Australia for at least two more seasons. That act pretty much sums up a simple family man who loved to give the ball a resounding thump and had gloves that could grab passing thoughts, not to say the red cherry, with alacrity. In the team of seasoned street gangsters that he was part of, he had a cardinal like presence. Not one to claim a wrong dismissal and not one to let go off a right one. He embarrassed his rather greedy team mates on more than one occasion by not lending vociferous support to their dubious appeals for that all important wicket. He wore his conscience on his glove and however hard something thudded into it, the glove would remain unmoved. So when he did appeal, and was he loud, the umpires could trust him with the judgment and not just the appeal (a certain Mr Dravid might veheme...

Both parts of the term SENSEX defy logic. There doesn’t seem to be too much sense in what’s happening at the market, neither is there too much pleasure as connoted by the latter half of the term. Some souls who’ve lost most earnings and their bearings are blaming the Bull installed outside the BSE. That’s quite a U turn for a country reveres its consort the cow and worships Nandi, the Bull, the animal that the Destroyer rides. Of course, off late Nandi-gram has been in the news for all the wrong reasons so when this Nandi sees red either in terms of the Communists in Bengal or the stock exchange crash we seem to have a problem, a big one at that. The bull run is something that I’ve never understood except the Jallikattu kind during Pongal in Tamilnadu, which the Supreme Court recently tried to put a ban on, in vain. During Jallikattu insane young men try to tame an inebraited bull usually causing much damage to men and property. Maybe the apex court should try putting a similar ban on ...

If you thought Ponting was Bhajji’s bunny, think again. Bhajji has competition from a lanky North Indian named Ishant Sharma. If David had the sling against Goliath, Ishant had the swing against Punter. In an hour of relentless interrogation, there were more questions asked than answers given. There were other legends of the bat standing at slips and watching as a rookie from their team undid a legendary opponent. The fielders were incidental, there were hardly any runs coming. Most of them were enjoying the undoing of the most competitive street fighter in modern day cricket. Ponting fumbling against spin is something that even the school kids of Tasmania would tell you about but this fresh script is a promising one. For a man who more often that not has a boundary as his first scoring shot and pulls fast bowlers for six over deep square as if that is where they were always meant to be, being undone by an Indian rookie is unfathomable. A six foot plus, wiry young lad with a bunch of ...

The Insurance industry has a lot to learn from Narendra ‘bhai’. He sells fear of death better than anyone does and this is one sauda where the Gujju doesn’t look at the bhav, he simple buys it. Sar kaatke jiyo, seems to be the triumphant line that 49% of Gujarat seems to be uttering and how. From Gandhigiri to Modigiri from Gandhinagar to Modinagar, from walking miles to make salt to using guile to shield assault, the state has seen it all. To be fair to the man, he’s ushered in development in a state that has always seen calamity, natural or man-made. Development is the sheep’s clothes that the wolf wears, and the polity loves this attire. Predictably, there is a confusing enigma of a quasi carnivore, with the rare slip through of carnal instincts but also the oft portrayal of the loh purush. There is an orgy of fear, caution, awe, respect, admiration and daresay love that gets evoked when the bearded brahmachari brews brouhaha. He’s larger than the party; the sangh blood in him has d...

Flatters to deceive. It’s a bit like Sachin getting out to a full toss after a lovely start. The bad part: The second half could have been another movie. In fact, I wish it were. Hangs like an orphan, poor cousin to a hilarious first half. It’s like sending Chanderpaul out to bat after Lara’s scored a quick fire 60, what a let down. The facts will read a bit like a lousy blood report, but some things have to be said. The ending is a rip off from Karz and Madhumati, wife tells me so. The rip off isn’t all that spectacular and seems a bit like a designer cut gone horribly wrong. Deepika is mostly silent and that’s the highlight, cos she can’t do too much with her face than flaunt her lovely eyes and omnipresent dimple. This part sees the re-birth sequence, a deja ‘woo’ of Arjun Ram-pall into confessing his crime and a chandelier climax. There also is the endless party number where the entire film fraternity is on screen, most being ones who aren’t doing too much work nowadays. Shahrukh h...

An FM channel which plays great Hindi classics was living up to its track record by playing melancholic Mukesh. The cab driver, instantly, switched to the latest Om Shanti Om number and let it stay. I tried to thinking about the last time I had heard a sad song in a new movie release, it was futile. Not that I am a Bollywood buff, but my First Day First Show friends struggled too. In fact, we struggled to name many recent tragedies, except ones like Himesh Reshammiya who are quite tragic, whether in movies or not. The age of melancholy and self pity is out. Looks like the age of celebration, fanfare, and ostentation is here to stay, not just in the movies. We seem to celebrate everything as if it were the last time we’d do it. T20 victory to kid’s birthday parties, Sensex booms to Shahrukh’s six pack. The event becomes irrelevant in the light of the celebration. Celebrity marriages are more about who’s attending, who’s performing, hardly about who’s wedding. The other day’s T20 match ...