Desicritics Author: Amrita Rajan

Religious Convergence on March 21st

Amrita Rajan — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 04:54:50 EDT

It's Friday, the 21st of March - a day that marks the Parsi New Year, the birthday (and death anniversary) of Prophet Mohammad, the commemoration of a significant event in the life of Gautama Buddha, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, a Hindu spring festival, and the deliverance of the Jewish people from annihilation. It's a once in a lifetime occurrence when "half the world's population is going to be celebrating something":

Ed Reingold and Nachum Dershowitz, co-authors of the books Calendrical Calculations and Calendrical Tabulations, determined how often in the period between 1600 and 2400 A.D. Good Friday, Purim, Narouz and the Eid would occur in the same week. The answer is nine times in 800 years. Then they tackled the odds that they would converge on a two-day period. And the total is ... only once: tomorrow. And that's not even counting Magha Puja and Small Holi.

At a time when religion increasingly makes the news for all the wrong reasons, here's a happy coincidence (or not, if you believe that the universe does everything for a reason) for everyone to celebrate. Here's what's going on in your neighbor's house today:

Navroze - Celebrated by Zoroastrians, Baha'is, Iranians and Central Asians, Navroze or Norouze is the Persian New Year that marks the Spring Equinox. Although it dates back to pre-Islamic times, it has great significance for Sufis and present day Iran. Interestingly, the origin of the festival has an etymological connection with Hinduism. And if you're like me and the world revolves around your stomach, then this is a good time to check out Parsi cuisine.

Eid Milad an-Nabi - Strictly speaking, this fell on March 20th of this year (Christianity's Maundy Thursday). Although certain sections of Islam consider its practice forbidden, its roots go back to eighth century Mecca. Today it is a major event in North Africa and South Asia among other places. Traditionally, it is a day of charity and meditation on the life and meaning of the Prophet.

Magha Puja - A public holiday in Thailand, this day marks the spontaneous gathering, on the night of a full moon in the month of Magha, of 1250 monks personally ordained by the Buddha. The Buddha also delivered a sermon on peace and what it means to be a monk.

Good Friday - Observed the world over, the day marks the crucifixion of Jesus Christ on charges of blasphemy. For many Christians, this is a day of fasting; the severity of the fast differs between sects and ages. Believers typically attend an assortment of services through the day.

Holi - Although Holi proper falls on Saturday, its eve is also a cause for celebration. According to Hindu mythology, this is a day connected to Vishnu's Narasimha avatar: his devotee, the boy Prahlad, was saved from being burnt alive. Celebrated in different parts of India as a spring festival, the night before Holi is marked by bonfires lit to signify the death of Prahlad;s aunt, the rakshasi Holika. Its celebration in North India is accompanied by the unique practice of serving celebrants bhang.

Purim - Based on events recorded in the Book of Esther, Purim is a day that marks a lucky escape of the Jewish people from a sinister plot hatched at the court of Xerxes, Emperor of Persia. Like Holi, this is a day of joyous celebration and it's a state of everything goes: food, drink and merriment.

Even if you don't belong to one of these religions, it's a good way to participate in other people's culture.

Art + History = Police Action in Tamil Nadu

Amrita Rajan — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 02:36:27 EDT

Here's a bit of shocking information: remember Aurangzeb? That jolly old Mughal who imprisoned various family members including his dad and his son, killed his brothers and generally went about making himself pleasant to his populace through the means of banning things like music and killing Sikh gurus? Yeah, that one. Turns out, according to his own records, he wasn’t a nice person to know.

You know what’s even more shocking? If you mention his dastardly nature (oh, come on! Even Stalin laid off his own family!) in Tamil Nadu, the police will come and shut you down.

That's right, Tamilians, this is how your tax money is being spent - on closing art exhibits.

To rewind a bit, if you're like me and have never heard of Francois Gautier before today (for some reason - like a lack of French - I don’t read Le Figaro or pretty much any of the publications he’s written for apparently), he’s an Indophile French journalist who founded this organization called the Foundation Against Continuing Terrorism. According to its website, “FACT seeks to bring attention to forgotten or neglected crises and to pressure governments and international organizations to help and protect refugees, displaced people and other victims of terror based conflicts.” Currently, it seems to be concentrating its efforts on Kashmiri Pandits and the minority Hindus, Christians and Buddhists in Bangladesh.

To highlight its work and the plight of the people it champions, FACT periodically holds exhibitions and other events around the world. For its latest exhibition, FACT came to the conclusion that the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, who died in 1707, was pretty much the poster boy of Islamic terror as we know it today because he was a Sunni fundamentalist whose favorite hobby was temple demolition.

Personally, I think that’s a simplistic and rather contrived view of a fascinating character whose psychosis has never been adequately explored to my satisfaction… but that’s not the point here. FACT claims they dug through official Government archives, most notably in Rajasthan, and came up with original court documents including imperial edicts that beautifully illustrated just what it was like to live under the crazed eyes of a fanatically religious, all-powerful Emperor. They then commissioned Rajasthani artists who specialized in miniatures to translate those events into watercolor works and drawings in the Mughal style. The result of all this was an exhibit titled “Aurangzeb, as he was, according to Moghul records” which premiered in Delhi in February of this year.

Whatever my opinion of the tenor of some of Gautier’s writings, not to mention his naivete in imagining that Indo-Muslim relations on the subcontinent is comparable to Franco-German relations after the Second World War, I think this is a fascinating concept. I’m all for the marriage of art, history and politics. An intellectual menage a trois! But not everybody would agree with me - take the Nawab of Arcot, for instance. In Gautier’s words:

[He] visited the exhibition and lashed out at FACT volunteers accusing them of “misrepresenting facts.” He was particularly enraged by two miniatures — the first depicted Aurangzeb’s army destroying the Somnath temple and the second showed the destruction of the Kesava Rai temple in Mathura. We are told that he has direct access to the CM’s office and that orders to the police to clamp down on exhibition came down from there. Otherwise, Mr Murali [ed note: Asst. Commissioner of Police] would not have dared to go so far, so brazenly.

Soon, the nawab sent a group of goons, allegedly from TMMK (Tamil Nadu Muslim Munnetra Kazhagam) and MNP (Manitha Neethi Paasarai) to pick up arguments with the volunteers, most of them elderly women from decent family backgrounds.

They came back again on 7th afternoon when I was there, screaming on, top of their voices in Tamil and in English that this exhibition was absolutely false and that unless it was closed immediately they would come back in force the next day (Friday) to break it down.

I didn’t even know Arcot had a Nawab or that he was such an authority on history and a vociferous art critic to boot. As it turns out, there’s not only a Nawab of Arcot but his feelings for Aurangzeb might well be personal:

More than 300 years ago, his ancestor Zulfikar Ali Khan was summoned from Mecca by Emperor Aurangazeb in order to fight against the Marathas. In the 17th Century when the Marathas were holding sway in the Southern Carnatic from their stronghold at Gingee, Zulfikar Ali Khan came down and inflicted a crushing defeat on the ruler Rajaram.

The delighted Mughal emperor made him the Nawab of the Carnatic under the suzerainty of the Nizam of Hyderabad and thus were sown the beginnings of the House of Arcot. Later holders of the title identified closely with their area of domicile. The cordial interaction between the Nawabs of Arcot and the Hindu inhabitants of the Tamil country generated a climate of mutual tolerance and secularism that is proudly being carried on to this day.

Hmmm, I guess that does present a problem. But what, precisely, has the Nawab achieved through his actions? He’s pulled his strings and played his cards to such remarkable effect that an art exhibition that apparently only appealed Chennai grandmas suddenly turned controversial. And in the process he has managed to gain a reputation far removed from all that “tolerance and secularism” discussed in that article. Well done, sir!

It might be a cliche but it bears repeating: tolerance is an easy virtue to preach when it’s somebody else’s problem. It becomes a lot harder when you’re the one that has to do the tolerating.

From time to time I come across people who think Aurangzeb’s misdeeds are some sort of deep dark secret that secular India refuses to acknowledge. As I attended school in India (not that long ago either) and distinctly remember a litany of crimes set down next to Aurangzeb’s name in my government-approved history textbook, I honestly have no clue what these people are talking about. Maybe they went to school and slept through seventh grade history (or was it eighth?) but I was wide awake and taking it all in, thanks. Now I wonder if they were perhaps talking about people like the Nawab who apparently live in their own state of denial.

Pssst… Nawab sahib! Guess what? The secret’s out! We know all about ol’ Grandpappy Aurangzeb.

But the Nawab is not alone. Of late, it has become the fashion all over India to criticize art for having a political or historical viewpoint. And with increasing frequency, it isn't enough to merely protest a piece of art - it becomes "necessary" to vandalize and destroy that which one does not appreciate. Ironic, isn't it, that an exhibit on a long dead emperor commonly reviled for his illiberality has now been suspended by illiberal forces under the guise of liberalism?

On another note, when on earth do we stop obsessing about things that happened centuries ago and start obsessing even half as much about present day India? I love history but I can make a distinction between past and present - why is it that so many people refuse to do the same? Talking to some folks, it’s as if Mahmud of Ghazni marched through their homes just yesterday or else he was their BFF. What’s the deal here? Do you have something against reality in general or do you feel your life lacks drama? Because, you know, there is no dearth of things to get upset/upbeat about in the present.

Gautier talks about sparking “a healthy debate among the right thinking people” - it seems to me the right thinking people in India never get a chance to debate anything because all the wrong thinking people jump in feet first with fists flying.

More: The Aurangzeb Exhibition

Music Review: U Me Aur Hum

Amrita Rajan — Tue, 4 Mar 2008 04:53:08 EST

If you'd asked me to guess, I wouldn't have picked U Me Aur Hum for Ajay Devgan's directorial venture. The odd Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam apart, Devgan's real success lies in movies where he's been able to portray angst ridden characters with something to prove. With U Me Aur Hum, he's either hoping for a safe bet at the box office or wants to try his hand at something different (for him). Written by Robin Bhatt, Sutanu Gupta and Devgan himself, according to the syrupy synopsis it is:

A love story, that begins at sea. Ajay is on a cruise with his friends Nikhil and Reena, unhappily married, and Vicky and Natasha, happily unmarried. Ajay is having a wonderful time dealing with martial strife, lots of bad language and huge hangovers, when he finds Pia, and time stands still.

So they battle all odds, and dance, and sometimes they fall. But every time they fall, they fall in love. And that's what a successful marriage requires. Falling in love many times, always with the same person.

This is the special love story of Ajay and Pia. There may be no monuments dedicated to them and perhaps their names will soon be forgotten. But in one respect they succeed as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: They've loved each other with all their heart and soul; and in life and marriage, this has always been enough.

Hmm. Personally, with a set up like that, the only thing that makes me in the slightest bit interested in this movie is the fact that it stars Kajol and has music by Vishal Bhardwaj. And while Kajol has let me down from time to time (hey there, Raju Chacha), Bhardwaj has always been awesome. Will the U Me Aur Hum album, with lyrics by Munna Dhiman, be his Waterloo? Let's see:

Jee Le - This is why I love Vishal Bhardwaj: even when he churns out a ho hum song, he does it with more class than just about anybody else. If you’re a fan of Latin rhythms (and it’s hard not to be) then this is a very pleasant song. The obligatory amore, baila and te quiero stuff manages not to grate the way others of this ilk so often do. Of course, I don’t speak Spanish so maybe people who actually understand the lyrics might disagree. I can only hope they're better than the Hindi ones penned, which are strictly pedestrian. Shreya Ghoshal and Adnan Sami croon their way affably through it and it all pretty much sounds like a cruise ship band putting on a good performance. I don’t know if that’s what Bhardwaj and Co. were going for, but that’s what it is.

U Me Aur Hum (Part I) - Remember how Shreya Ghoshal was so absolutely lovely and perfect in Jism? Now imagine her being almost lovely and perfect. That’s what this song is. Again, it’s not godawful or hurting my teeth but five minutes from now I wouldn’t remember a thing about it. Actually, no, I lie - I’d remember that little hip-hop-in-the-land-of-boyband riff (”Love gives you the power / to open up and flower / covering every hour with its refrain”) that comes up now and again. The male singer is uncredited and he ought to thank his stars for small mercies. Dhiman wades in rather late to try and save the day by injecting a little meaning into the song, but it's no go.

Saiyaan - You lost me at first line: “But I asked for a lover who’d be like a girlfriend,” Sunidhi Chauhan complains. So Kajol’s a lesbian then? The rest of the song is about how she finds her hubby such a mystery - he likes to watch TV, doesn’t pay her much attention, is a workaholic, not a morning person, kind of chubby, (”like a haveli“)… I’m sorry, what’s the mystery here? Adding to the confusion, the song stopped all of a sudden, like they’d just given it up as a bad job. Sunidhi really needs to pay attention to the crap she’s being fed these days if she wants to keep her A-list career.

Phatte - I have no idea what this horror is but it has Adnan Sami battling a severe case of constipation and it makes Sunidhi Chauhan angry. I don’t blame her. Its stated ambition is to make all the “the birds like parrots fly”. I decided to join them in their escape. Tell me when it’s safe to come back.

Dil Dhakda Hai - Oh goody, Adnan Sami’s back to mumble some more. If this is what gastric bypass surgery does to your vocal chords, then it’s time to bring back the fat. This time around he keeps Shreya Ghoshal company. And she sounds terrified as she well should, singing a song about under-seasoned food. Or maybe it’s about oral sex. Or cannibalism. Or something. If I could get over the crappy beats I’d know more. Except, do I really want to find out more about stuff like this:

Tu hai meri shayri
Chori ki hai Dairy
Sher tagde tadge hai
Chidiya Ghar se pakde hai

Translation:

You are my poetry
From a stolen diary
But the lines are solid
And caught from the zoo

Ooh, the last two lines are really clever, see? Because sher means verse as well as lion and you can see lions in the zoo... By the time the half-hearted rap shows up, I really don’t give a shit. It’s like kicking someone with a head injury - I can’t even feel it.

U Me Aur Hum (Part II) - Just when I’m wondering when this torture will end, Vishal Bhardwaj breaks out his guitar and sings this song. Suddenly, all those hokey words make sense and the world is lovely again. What the hell just happened?

I have no clue. But I can only hope the movie will be better. Just so it’s, you know, watchable. My eyes are on you, Kajol. Also I’m really happy the internet exists so I could listen online and didn’t have to pay for this crap. The End.

Movie Review: Jodhaa Akbar

Amrita Rajan — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 11:21:59 EST

Jodhaa Akbar, Ashutosh Gowarikar's sixteenth century epic about the political marriage between a Rajput princess and a Mughal emperor, is a must-see if period romance peppered with a dash of violence is your cup of tea.

There are extravagant spectacles, pretty people in elaborately lovely costumes, stirring battle scenes, evocative music, and a lead pair who turn in their career-best performances. And for all its eye catching splendor, Jodhaa Akbar manages to shine most bright in the more intimate moments - be it between husband and wife or swordsmen squaring off against each other on the battlefield.

We begin with Amitabh Bachchan's voice giving us a little tour through the early Islamic history of Northern India, where the Mughals are the latest in a long line of invaders. With Nasiruddin Humayun's untimely death, a meaningless crown passes to his young son, a somewhat squeamish Jalaluddin Mohammad. His father's general, Bairam Khan (Yuri), takes it upon himself to serve his young liege lord's cause. By the time Jalal reaches glorious manhood in the well-muscled person of Hrithik Roshan, Bairam Khan manages to cobble together an empire for him to rule.

A newly masterful Jalal begins to take over the reins of control by sending the ambitious Bairam Khan off on a pilgrimage to Mecca (a polite way of saying "exile" as such a trip in the sixteenth century would take years) and expanding his empire. But the Rajputs, Hindu warriors of the northwest, refuse to bend knee. Jalal manages to subdue some of them but there are still too many holding out. This isn't a state of affairs that a man who wishes to call himself Emperor of all Hindustan can allow.

Enter Raja Bharmal (Kulbhushan Kharbanda) of the Rajput state of Amer. Circumstances have made it necessary for him to seek Imperial protection and he indicates that he is ready to swear allegiance to the Mughal crown - if the Emperor would take his daughter Jodhaa (Aishwarya Rai) to wife.

Once the stars have aligned to put Jodhaa and Jalal in close proximity to each other - a process that roughly takes an hour - Jodhaa Akbar gladly puts its political pretensions aside and turns into a charming love story.

There are still a number of sword fights and a lot of talk about court/political intrigue, but the movie's heart isn't really in it. The only bit of intrigue Jodhaa Akbar is really invested in, is the one between its principal leads.

Apart from a bravura turn by Ila Arun as the jealously possessive Maham Anga, every character except Jodhaa and Jalal have about as much depth as a wading pool. The villains, including the hilariously portrayed Hemu (a Hindu king who captured Delhi for a brief period of time after Humayun's death) who looks like an escapee from a Ramsay Bros. film complete with greasy hair tossing, aren't just villainous but also rather stupid and given to showing their hand rather easily. And the "good guys" like Akbar's birth mother Hamida Banu (Punam Sinha) sort of glide about and make dutiful noises from time to time. The only bit of interesting dialogue afforded the talented Suhasini Mulay (Rani Padmavati, Jodhaa's mother) is when she offers her newly betrothed daughter some poison on the sly - "Death is surely better than suffering insult," she tells her shocked child.

As for Rai and Roshan, they haven't been this good in quite some time. Roshan, in particular, gives his overworked facial muscles a little time off and taps into that well of talent that stood him in good stead in movies like Lakshya. Rai proves once again that all she needs is a director who isn't awed by her physical perfection to turn in a performance that hits all the right notes.

However, I do think that the makers copped out on making a truly fantastic film by not allowing the more psychotic side of medieval royalty (witness the scene where Jalal has his injured foster brother dragged up the stairs just so he can have him thrown down once more) more screentime, but the tiny moments wherein Jalal and Jodhaa try their best to understand each other and begin to fall in love, make up for it.

So does it take liberties with historical facts? In several places. But as a movie, it works very well.

The Tata Nano: The Second Coming or Satan's Car?

Amrita Rajan — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 01:40:31 EST

So this is what the Apocalypse looks like. Tata Motors unveiled their long-in-the-works project, nicknamed the People’s Car due to its ex-showroom price of Rs. 100,000, and received what Reuter’s calls a “pop star welcome“. Sure, the most hated pop star in the world.

When Tata security personnel weren’t trying to save the new Nano from a fate worse than death (”Please don’t scratch the paint!”), they were keeping an eye out for all the protesters from Greenpeace (”Cut CO2 emissions”) and NGOs representing the West Bengal farming community (”Subsidised by farmers’ blood"). I really have to pause here and inform Greenpeace that their slogan writers are obviously crap and they need to get in touch with some NGOs pronto. This is India, we like to express our sorrow with something catchy.

Debate on the merry interwebs, as evidenced by this discussion on a fairly innocuous NYT blog post, rages from the prosaic (”Good luck finding a square inch to drive it on”) to the racist (”Dumb Indian choo-choo car”) to the patriotic (”I now feel validated as an Indian because an Indian company proved it can make cheaper stuff than the Chinese”) to the hilarious (”Tata comes from Gujarat and Nano means 'small' in Gujarati so Apple can stop drawing up its legal papers”) to the environmentally conscious (”We shall all DIE of pollution when the poor in their millions get their hands on this infernal vehicle”).

[Please note all quotes in the above paragraph were paraphrased by me because the original comments sucked on the same level as Greenpeace’s pitiful attempts at sloganeering. In other words, don’t be outraged if you go over to the NYT and can't find exact quotes.]

Anyway, apart from the Singur controversy, where Tata stands accused of initiating the crimes carried out by the West Bengal government by the simple fact of its existence, the main thrust of the arguments are as follows:

PRO - It’s a marvel of engineering! The world will never be the same again! Tata rocks! The car has been reinvented again! And also, Jesus, Vishnu, Moses, Mohammad and the Buddha called and said this was the best they could have hoped for humanity. Amen.

CON - It’s a disaster of unimaginable levels! Civilization as we know it has come to an end! Tomorrow we shall wake up and find ourselves choking to death! Polar bears will drown, whales will be eaten and tigers will end up as Viagra. I hope you’re all happy, doing Satan’s work!

Truth, like always, is somewhere in the middle.

On the one hand, where the hell do any of us get off making the case that cars should remain a luxury? Ratan Tata might be indulging in a PR exercise but he’s got a point when he says there are tons of families out there who’re making do with extremely unsafe modes of transportation because they can’t afford safer alternatives. Anybody who’s seen a woman balance a tiny baby on her lap while clinging to her husband as they sit on his bike and make their way through bumper-to-bumper traffic has a lot of nerve arguing that that couple ought to stick with their bike so that the rest of us, with more money in our bank accounts, can swan around in our air conditioned cars.

Of course, this is not what a lot of people are saying. They’re making entirely valid points about congestion, pollution and sustainability. But they’re directing their ire at the wrong target. There isn’t a single company on this planet that holds the sole solution to these problems. Collectively, however, we all do. And it is the responsibility of all our governments to make sure that the task of saving our planet falls equally on all our shoulders. It is again the government - and in India, I’d like to remind you, we follow that fabulous system of a government that’s by the people - that needs to improve infrastructure. They should do that irrespective of whether or not the Tata Nano is launched because we pay our taxes for a reason but the introduction of the Nano means that they have an added incentive.

By targeting a company that is releasing a product meant for the less privileged, you’re automatically setting yourself up for charges of elitism and discrimination. It doesn’t matter if your points are made of gold and come wrapped in diamonds that magically nourish the starving who lay eyes on it - the moment you start saying giving poor people access to something is bad, you’re automatically the bad guy.

Sunita Narain of the CSE seems to have got that much when she said her organization wasn't particularly against the Nano, which she hailed as an aspirational product. But she also said the fact that Tata Motors makes about 10 buses a month is an indication of where their priorities lie - because, you know, all that's keeping public transport from becoming a success is Tata's refusal to up the production numbers. The people who're supposed to place the orders, draw up strict rules for the conduct of those same buses and enforce strict emission standards on them - they're completely beside the point, apparently. [The title of that piece, by the way, suggests that she said her organization is against all cars - a statement that wasn't evident in the piece itself but if she actually said that then it's comedy on an entirely different level.]

As for the actual safety and environmental concerns, I’d say wait and watch. The thing won’t even come out till September so all this hysteria is a bit previous. A lot depends on the final product and the word of mouth publicity it receives. If it’s a bad product, if it’s rickety or unsafe, it won’t sell. It could be priced for a fraction its projected cost but people won’t buy it if it doesn’t work to their satisfaction.

Tata also says that it meets emission norms and surpasses them even - I don’t know enough about cars or the science of making them to call bullshit or not, so I’ll reserve judgment until I learn something one way or the other. And as far the terror in numbers goes - well, what did you expect? Didn’t any of you come across the terms “upward mobility” and “aspirational” before? They’ve been talking about the burgeoning middle class for years now: how did you think it would relate to real world terms?

I’d also like to note here that if Tata has indeed exceeded the emission norms, it’s done something very smart. A number of people are lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that India’s carbon footprint has thus far proven to be much less than that of the First World’s in spite of the growing hysteria around the question, “What of India and China? They’re going to take all the gas and turn it into CO2 - just like us but with slanted eyes and head wobbling!” We’ve been afforded the luxury of being able to learn from the mistakes of others and in my view, we ought to jump at it with both feet. We should be looking at stuff like the Pivo 2 and trying to beat that instead of the Maruti 800.

Because the truth is also that the Nano isn’t some miracle of modern engineering. It’s a miracle of Indian ingenuity. It’s an exercise in cost-cutting and a gamble on eventual returns.

In the midst of all the hype, this much is very true: change is on the way.

India vs. Australia: Cricket & Race

Amrita Rajan — Tue, 8 Jan 2008 01:15:02 EST

Welcome to 2008! A week into the new year and we’ve already plunged into a fresh cricketing scandal. This time around it’s a race row between India and Australia – with an Australian cricketer alleging he was racially abused by an Indian player. Ah, sports in the global village. Never a boring moment.

It all started way back in October when Australia were touring India. A bunch of spectators in Vadodara marked Andrew Symonds, an England-born Australian player of West Indian and British descent, as the “enemy” thanks to his on-field clashes with Indian hotheads Sreesanth and Harbhajan Singh - two players least likely to take it like proper Indians - and began baiting him in the presence of a South African journalist.

Said journalist was more than a little taken aback when the Indians around him began imitating monkeys. He asked one guy close to him what he thought he was doing. “He looks like a monkey,” the man apparently replied. There are two ways to take this comment: one, he was alluding to the fact that Symonds was “black” and that he thought black people are less than human; two, he thought Symonds, literally, looked like a monkey.

The first would clearly be an example of a racial slur. The second would have been mean but entirely his opinion. We don’t know which it was. Either way, it wasn’t very nice. If it was indeed a racist comment then it was despicable and I hope he felt it burn when Symonds went on to smash the ball all over the place. If it was his idea of a clever bit of namecalling, I hope he’s sitting at home watching the current drama play out on TV and fast coming to the realization that wit is not his forte.

The South African journalist later reported the incident to a member of the Australian press contingent and wanted to know if Symonds had mentioned anything. The Australian said no and asked Symonds about it. Symonds appeared to have forgotten all about it but when quizzed, replied yeah, he remembered something of the sort but didn’t make much of it.

Next up, Mumbai where a massive row broke out when a group of idiots were captured on camera, scratching their armpits and hollering and jumping about. If they were looking to make it onto TV screens, they got their wish and more. Symonds was reportedly very upset and charges of racism were made against the crowd. Everybody fell over themselves excusing / castigating those men in the crowd who were eventually arrested but then released.

The best explanation, without doubt, was the one offered by one BCCI official that the monkey was sacred in Hinduism and thus the crowd was praying to Hanuman. That’s right, people – the sight of Symonds on the field brought out intense religious fervor in Indian cricket fans. And they invariably pray by yelling “monkey” and scratching their armpits. It's an old and honored method of worship. Ladies and gentlemen, a pause for applause here for the Board of Control for Cricket in India. They never disappoint.

In the middle of all this, Indian bowler Harbhajan Singh apparently tried his hand at sledging and ended up calling Symonds a monkey. After the match was over, Symonds came over to the dressing room and gave Harbhajan a short lesson on racism. Calling someone a monkey, where he came from, Symonds explained, meant that person was sub-human, an inferior breed. A charge that Australians are especially sensitive to because this attitude informed (white) Australian attitudes towards the Aborigines for years. Harbhajan, much contrite, said he’d had no idea and would never do it again.

Australia won that series in India and two and half months later, the Indians showed up in Australia for a rematch. The first test ended in a defeat for the visitors but the second test proved to be a real fight and the visitors put on a good show in spite of what seem to be rather more frequent umpiring errors than usual. (Understatement: it’s an art I practice.) Then came the ugliness.

Sachin Tendulkar and Harbhajan were at bat. Brett Lee was bowling. Harbhajan hit a delivery and ran down wicket for a run and along the way patted Lee’s butt with his bat. Maybe this is how people express their affection in Jalandhar or perhaps he felt he hadn’t hit the ball hard enough and therefore needed to hit the bowler as well to show the strength of his arm – hell, maybe it was the cricketing version of what basketball players do with their hands. Who knows what he was thinking? Harbhajan hasn’t yet explained and Lee has been absolutely mum on the subject. But Symonds got an eyeful of this and, perhaps because he enjoyed needling Harbhajan, decided to stick up for his teammate. So he and Harbhajan exchanged a few words.

And according to Symonds, this is when Harbhajan called him a monkey. Again. And not just any monkey but a “big monkey”.

I’ve heard a lot of people, by which I mean Indians, talk about how “monkey” is not a term of racial abuse in India and so Harbhajan never meant it like that. And as far as that goes, while “monkey” is definitely not a term of endearment (well, okay it can be but I don’t think that’s how they’d use it while sledging or having an altercation), they’re right – Indians don’t use it in the sense that Westerners do.

However, that hasn't stopped us from feeling hurt when the term has been applied to fellow Indians in other racial contexts like the US state of Virginia where senatorial candidate George Allen referred to a young man of Indian descent as a "macaca". Nobody expects Harbhajan to follow the ramifications of incidents that occurred during political campaigns halfway across the world but if he did use the term in Sydney, he did so after being informed of the connotations that the term carries in Australia – and as such he deserves condemnation.

The key question though, is did he use the term?

Michael Clarke, Matthew Hayden and Andrew Symonds say he did. Sachin Tendulkar and Harbhajan Singh himself say he didn’t. The umpires didn’t hear anything and the stump mics didn’t pick anything up. So it basically comes down to whose word do you believe?

Mike Proctor, the South African match referee, decided the Australians had it right in this instance. He said, as a South African he recognized a racist attack when he saw it and it was quite clear to him that Harbhajan had not only said it but that he meant it as a racial slur. Since Proctor is so well versed in racism, then he might also understand the point that many Indian fans are making today: black man, known for sledging, accuses brown man, known for temper, of racism -> brown man denies it -> umpires don’t hear it, stump mics don’t pick it up -> another brown man says he was right there and he didn’t hear it -> two white men say they heard it loud and clear -> white man says he believes the two white men over the lone brown man.

The character of a gentleman should give everybody involved the benefit of the doubt in this instance. Just as we don’t want to believe that Tendulkar flat out lied to protect his teammate and that Harbhajan is a racist, we shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that this is some sort of orchestrated campaign by the Australians to bump an effective bowler off an opposing team. Given the lack of hard evidence, it could have been resolved on field as a matter between gentlemen. But it wasn’t (and some people would say it’s because the Aussies have proven themselves to be no gentlemen) and Proctor, for reasons best known to himself, couldn't bring himself to come out with a "not proven" or "inconclusive" result.

However, if Ricky Ponting actually believed such a incident had gone down, he was perfectly justified in doing what he did. A fact that nobody pointed out more strongly than Ponting himself. Racism isn’t acceptable just because the target is a white man (Symonds isn’t but there have been other examples in the past) and a white team has every right to report an incident if it feels wronged.

But now that he’s taken this step, it’ll be interesting to see how things play out over the years given Australia’s propensity to sledge. Some people, like Peter Roebuck, have called for Ponting’s head (for his attitude as well as his actions) and indeed, Australia may well come to regret this incident, but in the years to come? I think Ponting did everybody a favor.

I suppose in the short time to come you’re going to see some amount of retaliatory action, just like some allege the Australians are doing right now, but now that race has come into the open as a factor in a sport as fanatically beloved as cricket, there is no way it can be swept under the carpet by fatcat cretins like the BCCI who came out with this remarkable statement:

"India's national commitment is against racism. Our national struggle is based on values which negate racism." [Pawar said.]

Now that the top dog in international cricket has stepped forward to make use of race laws, it should open the floodgates for other teams. After all, if Australia the hardy world champions don’t think it’s whiny behavior to stand up against racial abuse, why should other teams feel shy? And now that words like “monkey” and “bastard” are deemed racially sensitive, look for sledging to subside because really, who knows what might be culturally sensitive?

Thus we come full circle and decide that abuse is abuse, whatever we call it. If you want to call someone names, make sure it’s someone from your own team because that’s the only way to ensure that you’re not stepping over some invisible line.

Good for all of us. Hard luck for Harbhajan, though.

Rakhi Sawant Loses Competition and Whines

Amrita Rajan — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 01:58:29 EST

Did the Rupert Murdoch-owned Star Plus play dirty with everybody's favorite motormouth Rakhi Sawant?

To begin at the beginning, there was a show called Nach Baliye. The Indian version of Dancing with the Stars, it went one up on the American show and upped the irritation and must-see quotient by eliminating the trained dancing partners (copyright issues with the format might also have been a consideration) and substituting real life couples instead. So at the end of the day, nobody’s fiance ran off with their dancing partner but there’s a lot of high school clique-ry going on.

Typically, the show is full of TV ’stars’, both real and imagined, culled from a vast line up of daily soaps mass produced by the House of Ekta Mata or knockoff brands as may be the case. However, this nepotist little family of pure, virginal daughters-in-law and dastardly vamps can get old pretty fast, so the producers like to throw in some variety - like Sandhya Mridul (who, incidentally, lost to a bahu) on Sony’s Jhalak Dikhla Jaa… and Rakhi Sawant on Nach Baliye.

Now, I’ve never seen this show and I am so incredibly sorry I haven’t. Never have I regretted a snobbish impulse more than right now. Clearly, reality TV is the only saving grace of Indian television. I stand chastised. But I do know somebody (make that several somebodies) who has seen the show - every single episode - and recapped it all: the always awesome Aspi & Co. Here’s what went down in the final four hour episode as the favorites to win geared up for the grand announcement:

As the results were about to get announced, Rakhi shed copious tears. Abhishek clasped and read the Hanuman Chalisa under his breath. Someone next to Rakhi’s mum looked about to keel over a statue of Mary she was holding. Both the dancers looked like they were winding themselves up for an “Oh my God! I won!” type of release.

But bhais ki pooch if it wasn’t the competition that was announced as the winners. For a whole minute, it seemed, neither Abhishek nor Rakhi moved. They didn’t even glance at the winners – let alone make a gesture to congratulate them. And when they did move, they stormed straight off the stage.

BWAHAHAHAA!

Er, I mean - FOUL! “Milard, I object!” This cannot be! Yeh paap hai! Gabbar Singh called and said, “Bahut nainsaafi hai!”

Forty-eight hours have passed since that awful day. A day when hope died. When an angel lost her wings. Since someone pricked a baby’s balloon, brought a tear to a mother’s eye, kicked a man when he was down, stole a blind man’s wallet and generally showed us that yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye to kya hai?

And one woman has risen from the ashes to fight injustice in the TV world. That woman… is Rakhi Sawant.

“This was fixed! Abhishek and I got to know about the illegal software that the winning couple used. It is called PC SMS tool kit. Apparently, the other couple had roped in 3-4 cyber cafes for the purpose. With the help of this software, they polled 200 votes per second and that got them a lead of 5 lakh votes over us. Yeh cheating hai ! And when we tried to send a vote for ourselves, our voting lines were closed. Humne unhe vote bheja, woh chala gaya… hamara nahi gaya . Our votes bounced. We also found out that the software was purchased in the name of the winning contestant’s brother.”

And so, Rakhi said, it was the duty of the Mumbai police to play Santa (Claus, I presume) and help them out by investigating this showbiz chicanery. The police said they’d overshot their costume budget for the year but they’d look into it in the new financial year. Nooooooo! Of course they didn't say that. They said they’d investigate in due course.

Meanwhile, Nach Baliye winner and Rakhi’s significant other’s rival (in the strictly dancing sense) Aamir thinks the best couple won and he finds it a little suspicious that Rakhi knows so much about rigging votes. He further added that Rakhi needs to look up sportsmanship in the dictionary. He can explain this unique point of view to her at length when she joins the daily soap circuit and hangs out with all the other soap stars at the billion and one programs they typically meet up at.

That’s right, folks, Rakhi Sawant has read the writing on the wall and understood that one needs to be a soap star to win stuff around this turf. Look at Aamir’s partner Sanjeeda who plays a vamp and still won, “PC SMS” or no “PC SMS”. Rakhi had talent (hey, the girl can't do a lot but she can dance), a beefy partner who knew the Hanuman Chalisa, a mother with a statue of Mother Mary, fake bobs, fake lips and fake everything you can think of. What did Sanjeeda have? She had Ekta Mata.

So now Rakhi wants Ekta Kapoor as well. But she doesn't want to play a vamp. No sirree. She says she's getting on in years and PYTs keep trying to hog the limelight she doesn’t want to let go of, so she’s planning on a career change: a dutiful daughter-in-law. This way she can get fat and nobody will mind. They’ll just fast forward the show a couple of decades and give her a couple of kids to make miserable.

Can she do it? Can the woman best known for her pout, her attention-getting antics, her reconstructed body poured into itsy bitsy outfits switch gears and throw herself into the arms of Coy and Demure?

Come on, Ekta, give her a chance. If nothing else, do it just to find out how much you can screw with your audience and still get away with it. It'll be a guaranteed ratings buster! For the first week at least.

Book Review: Sivaji Ganesan's Autobiography of an Actor

Amrita Rajan — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 12:44:43 EST

In 1954, Tamil icon Sivaji Ganesan and Padmini (Hindi movie-goers might remember her from films like Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai and Amar Deep) starred in C.H. Narayanamoorthy's Ethir Paradhathu, a boffo drama about lovers torn apart by cruel fate. The script required 'Pappi' as she's more informally known down South, to slap Ganesan's face when she mistakenly thinks he's trying to put a move on her. The scene apparently took a lot of persuasion all around because Pappi felt a hero shouldn't get his face slapped. She finally agreed at Ganesan's own urging.

In retrospect, he really ought to have minded his own business because the next thing he knew, 'fragile' little Pappi was in the throes of some sort of a psychotic episode and beating the crap out of him. What was supposed to be a simple, righteous slap turned into a full scale assault that left him bleeding on the floor. Adding to his troubles, her wild actions stunned the entire crew into silence and the director forgot to yell cut. Ganesan wound up screaming for them to end the torture, blood dripping down his face. Pappi, forcibly restrained, retired to bed and took two days to recover from her brief foray into Method acting.

This is the kind of entertaining material you're likely to find in Sivaji Ganesan's Autobiography of an Actor.

Strictly speaking, it is not an autobiography - instead, it is an exhaustive interview conducted in Tamil by Dr. T.S. Narayana Swamy and translated to English by Sabita Radhakrishna. But it is perhaps one of the most frank and wonderful books I've ever read about an actor.

In a free ranging conversation that tackles everything from politics to family, cinema and beyond, Ganesan takes the reader on a conducted tour of not just the Tamil film industry as it evolved and grew, but also India and Tamil Nadu through Independence and to the end of the millennium. From his roots in theater as a young runaway to his eventual status as the grand patriarch of Tamil cinema, it is an incredible journey for which there are no parallels that I can think of.

For the cinephile, he talks about his process as an actor - the best way to describe it is Anti-Method, something he justifies with the use of incidents such as the one with Pappi above. It's especially interesting when you realize that, by and large, it is his philosophy of acting that continues to inform Tamil cinema. This is, in fact, an excellent opportunity for people (such as I, for example) who have experienced the sheer theatricality of a Ganesan performance and been drawn in by it in spite of growing up in an era dominated by the Method school of acting.

On the other hand, the politics junkie is adequately served by Ganesan's stories of the Dravidian movement as it overran the Tamilian political scene. Periyar, MGR, Karunanidhi, they're all here, as well as talk of conspiracies, petty jealousies, politicking et al. There is even Indira Gandhi, facing down a hostile mob shortly after she lost her seat in the elections following Emergency, with no one but Ganesan to protect her.

All of this is, of course, presented through a Ganesan-colored lens, but it is presented with such openness that at no point does it interfere with one's ability to look beyond at the greater landscape.

This self-published book is also a treasure trove of photographs - an absurdly young trio of MGR, Karunanidhi and Sivaji Ganesan lounging about on the day of the latter's wedding; stills from almost all of his 287 movies plus a few portraits of him trying on various getups that never made it into a film (I loved these - they were of him in basically the same costume, holding the same pose but with different implements); 'candids' of family life where he can't resist mugging for the camera in front of his impassive wife, including a wonderful shot of him on a horse in Texas, looking for all the world like a gleeful schoolboy in a five gallon hat.

There are, of course, some eccentricities and bizarre episodes as are to be expected in a translation that seeks to keep the spirit of the original - a page of photographs titled "One Big Happy Family", for example, is dominated by a picture of a baby elephant, the same one I should suppose that he gifted to the United States. Then there are the occasional and somewhat inevitable lapses into hyperbole - the book begins with Swamy saying: "Revered Sri Sivaji Ganesan, I am grateful to you for the wonderful opportunity you have given me to compile your autobiography."

There are also passages where something might have been lost in translation: asked about his younger son, Prabhu, a successful actor in his own right, Ganesan comes off sounding incredibly bitter: "I wanted to educate him and make him a high ranking police officer but he trampled on my dreams. My brother Shanmugham and my director friend C.V. Rajendran conspired behind my back...The worst part is that he acted as a villain against me in the film Sangili."

A layperson such as I would be forgiven for thinking that the two were grievously estranged.

But these minor quibbles apart, this is not a book that hesitates to ask uncomfortable questions, most notably regarding Ganesan's failed political career. In the spirit of Ganesan's reply to Swamy ("Greetings to you Dr. T.S. Narayana Swamy. My life is an open book."), both interviewer and interviewee do their best to deliver a complete picture of Ganesan's life. What emerges is a fascinating study of Indian cinema and Tamil cinema in particular.

Rather selfishly perhaps, I found myself glad that unlike his contemporaries, he didn't succeed in politics, thus paving the way for an extraordinary decades long career in Indian cinema.

New Movies: Sweeney Todd, Charlie Wilson's War, Taare Zameen Par & More

Amrita Rajan — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 10:03:21 EST

If you thought the Diwali fight between the Shahrukh Khan starrer Om Shanti Om, the Sanjay Leela Bhansali directed Saawariya and the Robert Redford directed Tom Cruise starrer Lions for Lambs was a mega weekend at the box office, watch out for this Friday.

This December 21, as American studios rush to release their last batch of award-material movies and Indian filmmakers try to cap a rollercoaster year with a bang, you have no fewer than seven star vehicles headed your way. Here's the list in my order of preference:

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street - Johnny Depp is framed and convicted by a judge who has less than wholesome designs on his wife and, later, his daughter. Depp returns years later as a bitter barber who seeks revenge not only on the judge who ruined his life but the whole city of London. As an added bonus, his grisly method of exacting vengeance gives a shot in the arm to his landlady's (Helena Bonham Carter) flagging meatpie business. Based on a Stephen Sondheim musical, directed by Tim Burton, and starring half the Death Eaters from the Harry Potter movies, it's opening to rave reviews.

Charlie Wilson's War - Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams and Om Puri star in this Aaron Sorkin-written, Mike Nichols-directed dramedy about a bumbling US Congressman who fuels the Taliban movement in 1980s Afghanistan to fight the Soviets. As the tagline says: "Based on a true story. You think we could make all this up?" There is, of course, always the fear that this could end up as a huge turkey - Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal's Rendition, Brian de Palma's Redacted and Lions for Lambs have all failed miserably at the box office this year - but I have hopes for this movie because A) I like politics, B) I love Mike Nichols and C) I have never yet been bored by Sorkin's writing. And yes, I've seen Studio 60 a.k.a. Why Doesn't Kristen Chenoweth Love Me Anymore, Goddammit? The entire season of it. So there.

Taare Zameen Par - I want to love this movie but... I don't know. Everything about it feels more like obligation than a pleasure. The promos and the write ups seem to follow this line of thought: you like Aamir Khan + he makes good movies - therefore you're now contractually obligated to watch his directorial venture about kids with special needs. Special needs, people! How can you be against a movie about kids with special needs? Or is it just kids who hate school? It's a bit difficult to tell. Unless hating school is now a special need. And that clip of Aamir dressed up as a clown and, well, clowning around with the kids - it just tries too hard. And every Aamir fan on the planet knows that he doesn't need to do that. Sigh. I really hope I'm wrong and this movie turns out to be one of those rare, special little movies that doesn't sound like anything much on paper but turns out to be a complete and utter joy. Fingers crossed but this is one of those flicks where I won't go to the theatre without reading a review or two.

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story - Did you love Talladega Nights and Superbad, not to mention Knocked Up? In that case you probably don't want to miss this R-rated Judd Apatow-produced, John C. Reilly starrer. It gets fourth place because it doesn't have any kids with special needs in it. It does however have adults with special needs in it - like drugs and alcohol.

Welcome - Akshay Kumar and Paresh Rawal make a funny movie. Anil Kapoor, Nana Patekar and Feroze Khan give additional heft. Katrina Kaif looks pretty. Mallika Sherawat plays a vamp. In other news, the sun rose this morning and the sky is still blue. Good to know. I'll get the DVD or something.

National Treasure: Book of Secrets - I distinctly remember a time when Nicholas Cage used to make good movies. No, I really do. Hmm. Well, anyway, he has a kid now and I guess he needs a paycheck. Thus, we all get to suffer. Say hello to your in-flight 'entertainment' for the next three years,

P.S. I Love You - Here is the reason why National Treasure came second last instead of dead last. It was a really good try to squeeze in some Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Gerald Butler but unless the movie shows us some of that red carpet action, I'm really not interested. Calling all Hillary Swank aficionados - come weep your heart out.

Sabhnanis Convicted in Slavery Case

Amrita Rajan — Tue, 18 Dec 2007 10:27:42 EST

After six weeks of trial and two days of deliberation, a federal jury in Central Islip has held millionaire Indian couple Varsha Sabhnani, 46, and Mahender Murlidhar Sabhnani, 51, guilty on all 12 counts relating to the abuse of their Indonesian maids. Federal attorneys estimate that the Sabhnanis face up to 20 years each on charges including "forced labor, debt servitude and harboring illegal immigrants". The maximum is 40.

Newsday reports that the couple's three daughters were present to hear the verdict. Two of them, Pooja and Dakshina, were allegedly aware of and peripherally involved in the abuse of the maids, Samirah and Enung. The courtroom erupted into chaos as both Dakshina and Varsha Sabhnani collapsed into tears and fainted upon hearing the verdict, prompting a trip to a nearby hospital. Both were later released and said to be in "normal health". The Sabhnanis, considered a flight risk, are currently lodged at home, under a bail agreement that placed them under house arrest with minimal contact with the outside world.

On Tuesday, the jury will meet again to be individually polled and to decide whether the government can seize the Sabhnani home, a thing it can do in cases relating to property.

Defense attorneys for the couple say they are shocked at the result and will appeal.

The case of the mistreated maids came to light in May when one of them stumbled into a local Dunkin Donuts shop, clutching an expired Indonesian passport and begging to go back home. Police later found another maid at the Sabhnani mansion, hiding in a cubbyhole under the stairs. Both women showed signs of abuse and related horrifying stories about being cut, starved, beaten, locked up and forced to eat their own vomit.

The Sabhnanis alleged that the women had hurt themselves and concocted the stories in order to gain citizenship. During the trial, the defense also accused one of the maids of witchcraft. Witnesses for the defense say they saw nothing untoward about the maids. They included "painting and home-improvement contractors to a freelance graphics designer to a close friend of their teenage son".

Prosecutors on the other hand, featured testimony from the two maids as well as Deborah Litras, an employee of the Sabhnanis who says she saw signs of abuse.

Local authorities say the Sabhnanis are not alone in their treatment of their maids and hope that the high profile nature of this case would help heighten awareness of the issue:

"Often, the victims don't speak the language, they are living in very
isolated conditions, and they are distrustful of the police," said
Nassau Det. Lt. Andrew Fal, who is a member of the Long Island Human Trafficking Task Force, which includes representatives from Nassau and Suffolk counties, New York State and the U.S. attorney's office. "They fear that if they complain, they will be arrested or deported themselves."

Update: Sabhnani home forfeited