Desicritics Category: Media: Events

Play Review: Lucknow 76

Tanay Behera — Mon, 7 Jul 2008 10:45:24 EDT

Few months back, Dr.BD had made a post on Lucknow, depicting few panoramas of the city sitting in a roof top restaurant relishing gorgeous food.

But why did this topic come into picture, the connecting chord is 'Lucknow', a city that I have never visited but have read about it and also heard lots about from my room-mate who graduated from IIM Lucknow. Last weekend, I was at Alliance Francaise de Bangalore, to watch a play titled 'Lucknow 76'.

The plot of the play was based on politics and history, shifting between two time frames of 1876 and 1976 looking at Lucknow city through the eyes of the common man. 1876 was a milestone for the Britishers, as that was the year, when Queen Victoria took over the command from the East India Company. 1976 was also significant in history because during that time, the once proud democracy, India was under the clutches of tin pot dictator, Indira Gandhi who had declared a state of Emergency as the Prime Minister of the nation.

So that reasons out for the numeral '76' in the title of the play.

But then why 'Lucknow' and why not 'Delhi' or 'Bombay' or 'Calcutta' or 'Madras' or 'Bangalore'. Because the director and playwright of the play, Abhishek Majumdar (AM) had spent some part of his childhood in this city. During AM's visits to Lucknow, his grand uncle, a scholar of history and geology had inundated his mind with tales and chronicles about the city from an old bungalow.

Now back to the play and the players on the stage.

The stage was a raised platform, bare minimal in terms of setting. A collage carpet dressed the entire floor. A ziz-zag geometrically-shaped stool, an artistically designed bench on one corner and few cushions were all the props used during the various scenes.

The play began with the entire cast of actors on stage firing words arbitrarily, and this state of confusion continued until two characters working in a press chisel in. Soon an old madam editor of the press enters and they discuss the sabotage of press and free speech during the 1976 emergency.

The sequence of the scenes in the plot follows a pattern like they do in these aerobic classes, one step back and then one step front. So one scene from 1876 and then one from 1976 and the flow continues. You get me right.

A greater part of the play covered, the 1876 era and it was masterly role-played.

The three lead actors for this part were a Muslim revolutionary, a Brahmin Compounder and a brownBritish madam. Now how can a British madam be brown, that's because her father, a Brit and a general on duty in India had married an Indian woman.

As the play moves to Victorian India, fervent and fiery debates rise about nation and ruler royalty neatly animated by the revolutionary and the Compounder. Questions are tossed about one's dedication to one's own motherland, supporting indigenous medicines against propagating Brit medical practices for general welfare, the language in which Vande Mataram was written and likewise. Though the two characters share views that are completely opposite, the Muslim revolutionary considering the very presence of Britishers in their own land a bane, the Hindu Compounder considering it a boon but yet they are the best of friends. These two characters expressed their school of views with downrightness.

The character of the British lady who wants to study India through the eyes of the common man was also commendable. She seeks the help of the Muslim revolutionary to take her on tours to the local bazaars, to the river bed of Gomti, to the sectors where the natives of Lucknow live, and where the street dogs, the cattle and innumerable flies add to the bustle. She is also introduced to mouth watering local food: the Dum Biryani, Sheermal, Zamin Doz, Kakri Kebab, Shami Kebab, etc.

During one of their saunters, the Muslim revolutionary cracks a joke to the Madam, the dialogue piece of which goes like this: 'Madam, you know what, in Lucknow we have more varieties of kebabs than you have Britishers in that small island.'

Few of the dialogues were engaging and just got glued to my mind. 'In a war, its beliefs that fight, not people.' You see the contemporary relevance, it was then, and it is the same, even today and I don't know what will happen in future.

The 1976 half of the play was more of a disjointed and garbled commentary. The unprovoked detention of innocent people, the abuse and torture of detainees in jails, the forced vasectomy of thousands of men under the infamous family planning initiative, the cutting down of electricity supply to publishing houses and the censorship on press were portrayed tactfully. The highlight of the 1976 era depiction was the naxal interaction which was arresting in terms of energizing acting and dialogue delivery. This bit was in Bengali which I feel quite a few in the audience could not understand.

The scenes were as sensitive as was the dark period but to add some easiness in the air, subtle and clever jokes were cracked like 'it's difficult to understand the philosophy of philosophy' (pun on Indira Gandhi's intent for the Emergency) and about the 'Mango tree on the Moon'. (Can someone guess what was actually pointed at here, for the second bit, though I have my own version but not sure if it fits perfectly to the context?)

The lighting was dim for most of the time, mostly because events showcased on stage were from pages of history. A quiet whiskered man, sitting on one corner, strumming his guitar and lending his voice to few evocative songs in Punjabi and Hindi in his countrified voice made the audience travel through the lanes of Lucknow both in 1876 and 1976. The music was a one-man-show, full credits to this gentleman.

Though I am not a connoisseur in the theatrical aspects of sound, lighting, music but still arrangements on the whole for 'Lucknow 76', appealed to me. The only glitch that I could notice, many in the audience had was that many crucial parts of the play were enacted in languages that was not deciphered by all (around 75% of the play was in English and the rest 25% in Malayalam, Hindu, Bengali, Tamil and Kannada).

There were around 12 performers for this play, (sorry, I don't remember their names, and I even lost the play's brochure) and each of them performed splendidly. This play was supported by the Black Coffee Productions in aid of the Concern India Foundation. The director Abhishek is an engineering graduate from NIT Trichy, one of the best technical institutes in India and then an MBA from Delhi University, after which he entered into his professional life in Bangalore. But his heart was in theater, Abhishek won the Charles Wallace Fellowship and went to do a course at the London International School of Performing Arts for a year in 2006. A couple of months back he was awarded the Metro Plus Playwright Award by 'The Hindu'. In a couple of months he is heading to the UK again armed with an Inlaks scholarship.

Bon voyage and wish you all the best.

Taking Stock of The IPL Effect

Varun P — Wed, 4 Jun 2008 09:52:30 EDT

What lull! What happened? What is the time right now? 8:30 pm, right?? So why aren't the TV on? Where have all the screams and shouts disappeared to? How come we have saas-bahu serials on TV again at this hour? What's wrong? No match today? An off day for the IPL?

These were some of the questions that I was bombarded with as I entered home last evening, and then reality dawned on the ignorant me: The IPL extravaganza had come to a conclusion; the festivities, the celebrations had all reached a dramatic crescendo on Sunday, June 1, 2008. Life is expected to return to normal now that our daily dose of the 3-odd hour long sports+entertainment show is over. And it is unlikely to stage a comeback at least till October 2008 and that too only if the Champions T20 cup takes off as planned.

The success of the IPL can be gauged by how much the IPL had become a part of our daily life! Look at what the IPL has achieved - thank god for the instigation provided by the ICL else IPL might never have been conceptualized, despite whatever Lalit Modi might claim. The IPL has proven to be successful beyond any of our wildest dreams! A hit with the masses, the stadium sales, the advertisers, the sponsors and the TRPs, all bear fruit to the unprecedented success that the IPL has enjoyed! Lalit Modi has even suggested holding the tournament twice a year from 2011 onwards - what option does ICC have but to make room for the IPL in the Future Tours programme! The game is attracting viewership across all age groups and geographies and it's not only the organizers who are happy with the success - the players too are reaping benefits of performing in this niche tournament! With their salaries likely to go through the roof from next year onwards (when the cap of $5 million may be removed), the ICC had better take proactive measures to ensure that players do not cut short their international careers to participate in the IPL.

The inaugural edition of the IPL has enjoyed unprecedented success and had become a daily ritual where we finished work in time and ensured that we were seated in front of the TV sets by 8 to cheer and egg our franchises on! The next day, at work, was obviously spent in lauding this format and analyzing the game, with expert views coming from both genders! The format and unpredictability of the game has stumped everyone - some have had a pleasant experience while others are fuming at the surprises coming their way! The least we have seen is an unearthing of the talent that abounds in India - if not for ODIs or Tests, we at least got a healthy pool of youngsters to choose from for the international Twenty20 matches.

The IPL had also freed us of the daily overdoses of the saas-bahu serials, albeit a temporary respite! Now that the IPL is over, we need to return to the normal grind of life and ensure that we sleep-walk thorugh the days till the T20 games are back on TV. The soaps are back at the top of the TRPs chart - yet another proof of how the IPL had an impact on our daily routines.

P.S. The cap on players' salaries is unlikely to be lifted next year. This is likely to ensure that all franchises have equal purchasing power.

Jinnah, Advani And Jinnah

temporal — Tue, 3 Jun 2008 06:50:24 EDT

KILLAI (TN): Showcasing secular values in this remote village of Tamil Nadu, a devout Muslim couple have built a temple for Hindu Goddess Mariamman in the backyard of their house and conduct regular poojas, arousing interest and curiosity in this region, which remains a citadel of communal harmony.

It all started with a dream that M Bashirbi (50) had in her sleep and her husband Mohammed Ali Jinnah (55) without any hesitation gave his full backing for building the small temple 10 years back in the backyard of their thatched house in this town, near Chidambaram, about 250 km south of Chennai. Muslim family builds temple for Goddess. Muslim family builds temple for Goddess

On august 11, 1947, Quaid e Azam Mohammed Ali Jinnah, sought permission from the Speaker J. N. Mandal, and addressed the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan.He said this in his speech:

I cannot emphasize it too much. We should begin to work in that spirit and in course of time all these angularities of the majority and minority communities, the Hindu community and the Muslim community…Indeed if you ask me, this has been the biggest hindrance in the way of India to attain the freedom and independence and but for this we would have been free people long long ago.

No power can hold another nation, and specially a nation of 400 million souls in subjection; nobody could have conquered you, and even if it had happened, nobody could have continued its hold on you for any length of time, but for this. Therefore, we must learn a lesson from this.

You are free; you are free to go to your temples, you are free to go to your mosques or to any other place or worship in this State of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed that has nothing to do with the business of the State.

We are starting in the days where there is no discrimination, no distinction between one community and another, no discrimination between one caste or creed and another. We are starting with this fundamental principle that we are all citizens and equal citizens of one State.

Now I think we should keep that in front of us as our ideal and you will find that in course of time Hindus would cease to be Hindus and Muslims would cease to be Muslims, not in the religious sense, because that is the personal faith of each individual, but in the political sense as citizens of the State.

This is the Pakistan he had in mind. Those who knew him personally were aware of his character and nature and even his worst enemies did not accuse him of harbouring fundamentalist ideas.

When Zina ul Haq came to power, he used the full might of the state machinery to obliterate and delete this part of Jinnah's speech.

Mr. L K Advani grew up in Karachi and was aware of the political movement for independence and when he visited Quaid's Mazar (Jinnah's Mausoleum) in Karachi this is what he wrote in the visitor's book:

There are many people who leave an irreversible stamp on history. But there are few who actually create history. Qaed-e-Azam Mohammed Ali Jinnah was one such rare individual. In his early years, leading luminary of freedom struggle Sarojini Naidu described Jinnah as an ambassador of Hindu-Muslim unity. His address to the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan on August 11, 1947 is really a classic and a forceful espousal of a secular state in which every citizen would be free to follow his own religion. The State shall make no distinction between the citizens on the grounds of faith. My respectful homage to this great man.

The BJP has Jinnah in its Enemies Hall of Fame and rose in uproar over this and other comments by L K Advani that proclaimed Jinnah secularity. Ultimately the BJP succeeded in forcing him to quit as party chief.

In his recently released memoirs, My Country My Life, in a chapter headed "I have no regrets" Avani writes: Mr. Advani grew up in Karachi and was aware of the political movement for independence and when he visited Quaid's Mazar (Jinnah's Mausoleum) in Karachi this is what he wrote in the visitor's book:

I could well understand if some ordinary people had felt surprised and even upset, at seeing headlines in TV news bulletins or newspapers that said: 'Advani calls Jinnah secular'. But what pained me is that some people thought I had committed a serious ideological heresy even before acquainting themselves with full facts and background information.

Advani recaptures the turmoil which forced him to resign as president of the BJP. "It would not be an exaggeration to say that I was upset," he notes. His resignation was, however, not accepted by the party's Parliamentary Board. He withdrew his resignation but Advani recollects that the turbulence did not end there.

"I was in a dilemma. What should I do ? How should I respond to this situation ? Never in my political life was I enamoured by any post or the power that supposedly came with it," he notes. I had no regrets and no disappointments. I had the satisfaction of having served my party dutifully and conscientiously -- and the determination to continue to do so in the future," Advani writes.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet". - (Act II, Scene II).

So Back to the other Mohammed Ali Jinnah who can also boast of secular credentials.

Bhakti is the one essential thing.
To be sure, God exists in all beings.
Who, then is a devotee? He whose mind dwells on God.
But this is not possible as long as one has egotism and vanity.
The water of God's grace cannot collect
on the high mound of egotism. It runs down.

From politics to Spirituality by way of digressions: one of the wandering paths taken by poets to capture nano seconds of lucidity.

The pleasure is in journeying: not in arriving at the destination. God is everywhere. She may be oblivious – I am certain of it. Since I tend to be inclusive, for atheists reading these lines, and still here, feel free to substitute Golf, or Net, or any other Passion for god and stick around, she won't mind.

There is peace in the pursuit of peace.

Barkha Dutt & The IPL Cheerleaders

Emma — Tue, 27 May 2008 12:04:30 EDT

I am not much of a cricket fan; yes, I do keep track of what's happening. It is difficult not to, when you are living with an obsessive cricket fan, whose priorities in life are (and will always be) cricket, sleep and then me. So, yes, the IPL has invaded our living room too and taken over our lives completely. And yes, I have been reading up on matches, offering my not_so_expert and often unsolicited but enthusiastic comments on players and teams all of which have been dismissed with equal disdain. I have been following up on the various controversies from the "slap" episode to the cheerleaders controversy to Khan's presence in the dug-out (why the hell is it called that?). But all this while I have also maintained my silence.

Last week, I read this. From the beginning I have felt that the whole issue about the cheerleaders was much ado about nothing, that we were unnecessarily wasting our time. Do we need the cheerleaders? Frankly speaking, I don't care. Are they a blot on the Indian culture? Can someone please explain to me what is this "Indian culture" all about? My mediocre mind just doesn't seem to fathom such a profound idea. But I do understand this: that every person in this world has a right to choose what one wants to do. And if my profession is being a cheerleader, and if I am being paid what I think is good enough money to do my job (even if it is in a country where I open myself up to voyeuristic gazes), I am not sure why is it a problem for anyone. Least of all someone like Barkha Dutt who doesn't tire of saying she is a journo with a cause (again, whatever that means!). So, I have this to say to her.

Dear Barkha,

Your article was totally in bad taste. Lets look at how you describe the act of cheerleading - "bevy of barely clad, big-breasted blondes wiggling their bottoms at a billion people? As they swirl and twirl their little red skirts and flash their wide, gummy smiles...". Excuse me, but whatever happened to professionalism? What the cheerleaders are doing is just their job. Maybe, dear Barkha, you ought to go and look up what "cheerleading" is all about. And learn to recognize that they are professionals in their own right. Probably, this would help. Frankly, I can understand your 85-year-old uncle disapproving of them (and if that is being liberal, I need to go look up what "liberal" actually means), but don't you think your reaction, and your description, is all about taking too many liberties with journalistic licenses?

There is, of course, more with which you shock me to no end. You call it "choreographed sexuality", "trashy" - obviously, you haven't watched Indian movies in a long long time. To be honest, maybe never. Forget the "choreographed sexuality" that oozes out of our small as well as big screens today, haven't you ever seen Sridevi's pelvic thrusts and Madhuri's bosom heaves before? And how come you never found them objectionable? Or maybe you have just forgetten. So much so that you go on ahead and call the cheerleaders "white trash". Honestly, to me your statement is as "farcical and indefensible as the attempt by sundry politicians to ban them or dress them up in clothes that cover their knees".

You say you are not speaking for preserving moral culture, yet you do not understand why "a self-confident nation needs play to copycat to some air-headed ritual from the American heartland". Maybe the next time you get all dressed up to get to work you should stand and observe yourself in the mirror for a minute. And ask yourself this question: which part of the dress that you are wearing is actually typically Indian and not from an American heartland? If this isn't being hypocritical, pray what is?

I agree with you on one point though - manufactured sexuality is not a mark of emancipation of women. But to me what is emancipation is this: that a Rakhi Sawant chooses to flaunt her sexuality. I don't really care why she does it; but to me the fact that she chooses to do so and is totally unapologetic about it speaks a lot about one's emancipation. Freedom, Barkha my dear, is the right to choose who you want to be, when you want it. These cheerleaders are professionals, even if they are in a profession you don't approve of or would ever take up on your own. Are they not doing their job? Then, what gives you (or anybody) the right to decide that they are nothing but "trash"?

It just doesn't strike you, does it, that you are sitting out there on this high pedestal of yours, strong in the belief that you are in an "honourable" profession that it seems totally okay for you to pass judgement on other professions that you don't necessarily approve of? How professional is that? Isn't it below someone to be purely judged on what you see on the outside? You see a few dances (which at the risk of over-emphasising, let me say, is their job) and you decide they are nothing but "trash", "faceless bimbettes"; that they have nothing else to recommend for themselves apart from being "steamy, sexy and sultry". You are absolutely right - "breaking free from the conventional orthodoxy of right-wing moralists" doesn't mean replacing one stereotype with another! We condescend to others when we pass judgement on their choices. Sure, through a middle-class prism, it seems terrible to be a prostitute (as it does to be a construction worker or a ragpicker, for that matter). But is it really right to judge a person on the basis of the profession they are in, which probably is also a profession they chose to be in?

Warm Regards.

PS: By the way, when did Shobhaa De and Karan Johar become the yardstick that Indian women can be measured by?

PS1: I am totally stuck by one statement (out of context, if you ask me) that you make: "...our sense of modernity [cannot] be borrowed from a country that still debates whether women should have the right to abortion?" Let me just remind you this - that this country also has a very big pro-choice group and they don't go about snuffing life out of foetuses only because they are girls. Or doesn't that matter at all?

The Archer Aims For the Heart

IdeaSmith — Tue, 20 May 2008 14:46:05 EDT

Jeffrey Archer on Landmark tour!

..proclaims a hoarding on Andheri Link Road a few feet before Infiniti Mall which houses the Landmark store. The lower two floors look fairly sane, I think to myself as far as weekdays go. Even the second floor which looms into sight as the escalator rides up looks remarkably normal. Then I notice the mountain of bags lying at the entrance. And I'm stopped by the polite but firm female guard who shakes her head almost sorrowfully and tells me that I cannot carry my battered copy of As the Crow Flies into the store.

I push my way past the jewelery counter, the New Releases rack and past the music section. Voila!! What's a celebrity without the crowd? Archer has succeeded in drawing the mob to the store on a weekday. It's so crowded that people are stepping on each other's toes even among the magazines racks that signal the start of that heaven that is Landmark's book section.

I slither through the crowd in a manner perfected by years of Mumbai train travel and end up right at the back, smushed up against Movies while Jeffrey Archer regales a crowd from a stage in what is otherwise the aisle between Maps and Language.

All around people are standing, waving cameras, cellphones, microphones and books in the air. Thank goodness for my genes, thank goodness I'm wearing heels I murmur, doing my yoga stretch of toes, torso, neck and forehead. Small wonder then that the guy next to me jerks his head around in curiosity. And from the corner of my eye, I follow his gaze zip down to my feet. I want to yell,

Yes! Heels are the only way I'll ever be on eye-level with you...on tiptoe! Now how about tearing your eyes away from my fabulous legs and towards the guest? We are in the presence of peerage after all.

But I refrain and try changing position instead. After a repeat (thrice!) I give up on the priorities of mankind and focus on the man on stage.

Archer speaks as well as he writes. White hair notwithstanding, he leaps nimbly from IPL to Bollywood to writing and politics. The last actually comes in only as an almost unconscious reference in conversation and is not touched upon again. When someone in the audience tries to steer him back to politics, he darts away so quickly he has the audience laughing with him.

The audience is hanging on to every word and even the seasoned TV anchors are laughing along with him. I pause in my live-tweeting to listen to an anecdote of his previous day's meeting with kids and when he ends with,

I must say the girls are so much smarter than the boys!

...I join in the loud applause and laughter. As I sink back to terra firma I wonder how I'll describe him in my post. Politician? Jailbird? Novelist? Firang-in-India? I settle for Charmer. And true to that description he winds off by saying that an author is someone who has access to so many minds...and is very privileged indeed. Indeed. Well-said.

Now he's telling us that he has a dinner in 40 minutes at a place 2 hours away but that he's not leaving the store until the books are all signed so we can all go have a cup of coffee and a chat if we like and he'll still be there. Only, could we relax and not trample each other?

Hah! I smirk, you've never been to India, Lord Archer...wait and watch! Sure enough, there is pandemonium in exactly 24 seconds with the Landmark staff trying frantically to get the chairs out of the way, TV crew shifting angles, journos vying for soundbites and the junta being junta. I am too far from the stage to see his reaction but what to do, we are like wonly.

The ruckus is silenced by a loud, very loud, shrill female voice airing her disapproval and screeching,

Please, I say!! There's no need to crowd around, I say!!! Let's just be civilised and queue up, I say. What is this crowding and rushing and pushing, I say?!!!

The whole floor stands stock-still. Effective, I say and the staff look almost relieved.

I hang back and walk around, watching people mill about. Chattering teenagers, young couples, older couples, people in their 40s are all walking around. Everyone is toting A Prisoner of Birth.

I run through all the Archers I've read, in my head and wonder how good this one will be. I think wistfully of my own As the Crow Flies lying on the security guard's shelf and debate on buying a new copy. I settle instead for guzzling juice and biscuits.

An hour later I'm still there, watching from the stage at the back, now free of TV cameras. The crowd has thinned out as well so I think it's time to get in line for the signature. As I near the stage, the girl in front of the table practically yanks me by the collar (except I don't have one) with a withering look. My books are then snatched out of my hand and thrust into Jeffrey Archer's face and then thrown back at me before I have a chance to react. She certainly isn't one of the Landmark staff. What is it darling, I smirk in my mind? The pretty-bimbette-swooning-over-you act? Or the in-thrall-of-goras syndrome? Or the I HAVE TO BE IN THE LIMELIGHT Page 3 habit? Well, whatever, my books are signed and that's all I care.

And as I prepare to jump off the stage, Jeffrey Archer calls out to me,

Miss? Did I sign your book?

I smile back and him and nod a yes.

Back home, I open my bag. I have bought A Prison Diary as a keepsake to be able to tell myself (since I'm probably not going to have grandkids) that I saw the author in person. In my other hand is Twelve Red Herrings and I pause, smiling.

It's the 14th July 1994. The sun is streaming in through the windows of a high-ceilinged classrooms, fans whirring loudly and drowning out the nervous chatter of a 100-odd teenagers. It's the first day of junior college. And I don't know a soul there.

She walks in cool and poised in black jeans and a tee-shirt so smoothly that all of us in the third row, mid-introduction gape. She glides into the empty seat in front of me and puts her bag down. Then she turns around and smiles and in a hesitant voice asks me my name. We are interrupted a minute later by the entry of the professor but I've just had enough to time to answer her question about my hobbies, with a monosyllable,

BOOKS.

The conversation resumes in the breaks and between lectures. Everyone is excited and nervous and wanting to know each other and ally themselves with whoever looks strongest, prettiest, smartest and coolest. I wonder why she's paying any attention to me when there are so many others vying for her attention. After class, we walk out together and stop at her bus-stop. The others disperse. Abruptly she turns around and says,

I just know we are going to be friends. I knew it the minute you said that you loved books. I do too! There's my bus, see you tomorrow!

14 years later, her voice travels echoes in my mind, whispering in math class, telling me about the book she finished last night and ending with,

My favorite is Never Stop on the Motorway. It's sooo scary!

I've learnt by then of her weird fascination with spooky thrills. I smile and pencil in on the page after Archer's signature,

For my best friend,

You were right. It was a good story. 14 years later, here's the book again just so I can prove that I do listen to you. And you can prove that I agreed you were right. :-)

And long after it's fashionable to say that I like Jeffrey Archer, I've finally met the man whose words have had such deep meaning on the most important friendship in my life. Thank you, Lord Archer, it has been a pleasure, a real pleasure.

Travel Report: Korba Street Festival - Heliopolis, Cairo

Kim — Wed, 14 May 2008 02:19:02 EDT

Last Friday was the annual Korba Street festival in Heliopolis - a residential suburb in Cairo.

Baghdad street was closed off to traffic and stalls were put up along the sidewalks. There were stalls from the Asean countries selling native food and some handicrafts.

The Indian stall just had posters urging visitors to visit India. Nothing else. :(

There were tables along the sides for families to relax and grab a bite and the main road was left free for kids to express their creativity on the road with chalk and paints.

Marriott's Bakery, Swiss Inn, Sultana Ice Cream had tables on the road and were serving food there. The Swiss Inn even had a buffet set up on the road. But the more exciting stuff to eat were the street stalls which were selling things like cotton candy,the hummus drink and beans.

I attended in the morning half and left by 1:30pm, before the crowds really started to pour in. This meant I missed out on the musical performances (by Wust el Balad among others) and the puppet show, but what I managed to catch was great anyway.

My friends tell me, there was a short parade later in the noon with flower covered floats and giant coke bottles. More of advertising than Spring flowers was a comment I heard.

What I got to see, kind of reminded me a bit of the Kala Ghoda festival in Bombay, but just a little bit. The concept is similar, but there is so much further that the Korba festival can go. Its a good start though, just to have an open air event in a residential area of Cairo.

I would definitely try to catch it again next year.

Thoughts on IPL

Adithya — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 00:07:11 EDT

There was a time when the excitement of a cricket match was natural. People drove around on the roads of Bombay with the Indian flag draped around them, their cars etc. This was even before a victory. It was around 2003 and it was the World Cup. It must have either been India vs Pak or India vs Australia. Heck, I gave up on my board exam and invited friends, bought snacks and waited for the match to begin.

Cut to 2008 and we have contrived excitement all over India. I just don't understand why so much of marketing and propaganda is going into this. Forget BCCI's revenge on ICL, BCCI's show of might or Lalit Modi's whims. Why is there a major build up to everything concerning IPL? Why didn't it just stop with stars purchasing teams and becoming owners? I did like that joke of Saif in an awards function when he said, my friend here(SRK) was not allowed to watch a cricket match and so he bought himself a team!

Thankfully people watching IPL on CBN are not subjected to the countless ads. Or so I hear. I have watched, probably, 10 overs of IPL so far. I read about it here and here. Why is Sivamani there in the stadium adding to all the frenzy? I can understand if I see SRK in Kolkata or Preity Zinta in Mohali. You cannot see Mukesh Ambani often because he has a proper job. The other owners have a job that requires them to show their face at regular intervals. Let's not even get into the whole cheer girls thing. Why are these people being such a dramebaaz? Like someone remarked, if a sport resorts to cheer girls dancing, singing half of the time, the sport must be really shallow. I liked Ramachandra Guha's comment on it though:

"All the organisers are doing by making scantily-clad white women dance in front of huge crowds is to stoke the base voyeuristic and sexual insecurities of the Indian male. It is revolting, appalling and shows the game in very poor light."

I am all for T20 cricket but then it's neither being played nor marketed the right way. It's good fun. Things take a turn in a matter of a ball. The T20 world cup showed how exciting it can be and it also showed how bowlers do have something to play for. But then having a league with players worth millions, we have a strong batting side hitting sidelined Indian players all around the ground. Add to this Sivamani, Washington Redskins cheerleaders, Bhajji slapping, Sreesanth crying and countless brands laughing their way to the bank.

A friend compared IPL to league football and said we could do with something like that in cricket. That is so illogical. Mukul Kesavan points out beautifully. It is very pedestrian and it highlights ignorance when you make such a comparison. League football celebrates football in all its splendor and glory. It's proper ninety minutes of play. Not a toned down version like T20. They don't try so hard to market themselves. Don't tell me they don't have to. They never did. I'd watch Real Madrid play Manchester United at Old Trafford rather than Mumbai Indians play Chennai Super Kings. That is until they play proper cricket and inspire me to give up my board exam and invite friends home. On the pitch, that is. Not on Royal Sundaram stand with Vijay, Nayanthara and Sivamani!

On a completely different note, some of those marketing minds at work are truly gods. You can't help but like this. Truly remarkable people at work.

IPL Twenty20: Mumbai Indians Lose Sorely To Punjab Kings XI

Aaman Lamba — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 00:03:01 EDT

The poorly named Mumbai Indians have had a string of bad luck, or perhaps bad captaincy, in the Indian Premier League Twenty20 series. They currently share the bottom of the points table with the Deccan Chargers. In the most recent match, the Zinta-Wadia owned Punjab Kings XI trounced the Mumbai team by 66 runs on home ground at Mohali.

The Punjab innings was marked by a 94 from Sangakkara, who received the orange cap for highest overall scorer and the Man of the Match award. Bowling figures were good but not great, with Nehra and Harbhajan Singh taking important wickets. Sachin Tendulkar did not play again, not having recovered from a groin injury yet.

The Mumbai batting never really got off the ground. Brett Lee took two early wickets, and the Mumbai run rate never really rose above 6 or 7, while the required run rate was close to 10 initially, and then rose to 12 and beyond. The highest scorer was Bravo at 23, and Brett Lee had the best averages.

What happened on field after the victory put pale to the game, and sportsmanship itself. While both sides are backing off a fullblown controversy, the bald facts of the matter are that hotblooded Harbhajan Singh slapped Sreesanth in the face when Sreesanth commiserated with him post the match. Sreesanth began crying and the celebrations were marred by scenes of Sreesanth crying continuously, being comforted by team members. Wags mocked that it was perhaps because he hadn't been hugged by Ms. Zinta, but when the truth emerged in the post-game press conference, the cricketing world went ballistic.

An apology was tendered, and the affair is being attempted to be brushed under the proverbial carpet, especially by the BCCI and the PCA, but a cricketing nation is aghast, not least the media. The Punjab team may lodge a complaint with the IPL come morning, and probably should. Tempers have run high on-field often enough in cricket, but it is the responsibility of team managers to control hotblooded players. The difficulty is compounded, as might be expected by the fissures that might affect performance of what is termed the 'national' team. While this might be a disciplinary issue for the IPL, it becomes a matter of team cooperation at the BCCI level.

Sreesanth can be volatile and over-dramatic on the field, and perhaps even off the field, and the prolonged on-field tear-fest was a bit strong. There had been pre-game indications of a looming clash between the two players. There seemed to be ongoing jibes through the match, as when Mumbai's Musavir Khote was dismissed. There were indeed questions on whether this was a manufactured controversy, yet if the IPL is to maintain its effort at being seen as part of respectable cricket, strict action must be taken against Harbhajan Singh.

Pope Benedict XVI Visits America

Blokesablogin — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 09:26:53 EDT

The Dish Network finally hooked us in with a real cheap offer. That would explain how I got caught watching CNN (for news) on a Sunday morning, with a live telecast of the Pope's visit to the United States.

Evidently it has been an exciting week for all Christendom (according to CNN) with the new pope hopping over the Big Blue to speak at the United Nations, releasing sex-abused Catholics from their sad memories, praying at Ground Zero, and the grand finale being a mass "mass" at Yankees Stadium, NY.

My husband was wondering why I was wasting my time watching this live telecast about a man who believed in conversions. My son asked if he was a good man or not. I said that he was a good man but ignorant. That shut them up a bit for me to continue with my television viewing.

Seeing a 60,000 strong crowd, committed to their faith was an inspiring sight. The rich ritualistic aspects of the Catholic church has always held a greater visual appeal than the informal Protestant kind to me. The crowd swelling into song in a call and response fashion is another thing I like about their music. The stray thought of how church liturgical music has come to define western music could not be ignored.

The arrangements made to give Holy communion to all those 60,000 plus people present was impressive to say the least. The entire program was bilingual in English and Spanish, spotlighting the Latino immigration that has resurrected the Catholic church in the United States of America. It will not be too long when papal visits become multilingual, including languages like Chinese and Hindi. Not too long ago, when the search for the pope was under way, the Archbishop from Mumbai was considered to be a strong contender for the post.

Evidently, the pope had a meeting with people from other religious denominations. That group included Muslims, Hindus, Jains and Buddhists. I hope that those groups educated the pope on why conversions are not a good idea in a pluralistic world united through a global economy.

IPL Twenty20 - Bangalore Royal Challengers Stun Mumbai Indians

Aaman Lamba — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 14:07:49 EDT

It sometimes feels one is watching fantasy cricket, with reports like "R Dravid c & b Harbhajan Singh" and the sportsmanship is making one change one's views about this format. Each game has its own tenseness, and there really seems to be no such thing as 'too much cricket'. When it comes down to the wire, as did this game, all the better.

The Bangalore Royal Challengers faced off against the Mumbai Indians in an away game after their defeat against the Kolkata Knight Riders. They had much to prove, and playing the Master Blaster on his own turf would have been a daunting thought. Fortunately for them, though, Sachin Tendulkar was ruled unfit to play, and the Mumbai Indians took the field under the captaincy of Harbajan Singh.

The Mumbai Indians (confusing team name, perhaps designed at erasing the 'Marathi Manoos' memories) put up a rather good total, setting the Bangalore team a target of 165. There was some drama when Thornely was hit through his helmet grill and had to retire hurt. Sanath Jayasuriya soldiered on, until he was run out for 29. Robin Uthappa and Pinal Shah maintained a good partnership, and Uthappa himself reached 48 before being stumped. Shaun Pollock played through the final overs, until he was bowled on the last ball.

For the Royal Challengers, Dravid and Chanderpaul spent over 4 overs in a slow paced partnership, marked mainly by singles and the occasional four. In the fifth over, Chanderpaul was in a spot of pain, and was caught out on the next ball, perhaps to his relief. The run rate stayed in the 6 to 7 range until Rahul Dravid was caught and bowled by Harbhajan Singh, well below the necessary 8+ mark. The highlight of the Bangalore inning was a steady partnership between Jacques Kallis and Virat Kohli, which pushed the run rate above 8, until Kohli was caught out. Mark Boucher and Kallis strove to keep the party going, but the run rate started easing again, or rather the required run rate rose above 9, and Bangalore needed 48 from 30 balls. Knowing each other's moves doubtless helped strengthen their partnership. They started getting the necessary eight-ten runs per over after a while, mixed in with almost a single per ball.

The 18th over saw 19 runs hit, with two sixes. This was just what was needed, and eleven runs remained off the last two overs. Boucher kept up the pace, and had to see Kallis off in the penultimate over, but managed to complete the remaining few runs along with Balachandra Akhil in the final over, which saw tight fielding. The Mumbai gang sorely missed their captain, although there's no saying what effect, if any, his presence might have made. Harbhajan Singh's captaincy was well done, and the hairbreadth loss should not rankle much.

While this was a far better performance than the opening game, the Bangalore team did not seem to have the zest for pushing the envelope that is needed when chasing a high target in limited overs. The singles evidently don't cut it in Twenty20, and one hopes the thirst for runs does not see cricketers burning themselves out before their time, or worse, adopting baseball-style tactics.