Rockstar & The Doors

Rockstar cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Nargis Fakhri,
Director: Imtiaz Ali
Rating: ***1/2

The Doors cast: Val Kilmer, Meg Ryan, Kyle MacLachlan, Frank Whaley, Kevin Dillon, Michael Wincott
Director: Oliver Stone
Rating: ****1/2

“…I think of myself as a sensitive, intelligent human being but with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most crucial moment...”

Says a rugged, bearded, pot-bellied Jim Morrison (Val Kilmer) in 1991 Oliver Stone-directed biopic The Doors. You can’t help but miss the mop-haired, charmingly cute boy obsessed with death, spirituality of an admirable type and talent worth rebelling for. This Jim is in stark contrast of the Jim we see early on.

For the uninitiated Jim Morrison was a part rock band The Doors that made waves in the late from 1964-1971 (the year Jim died aged 27! FYI Janice Joplin also died in the same year, at the same age). Band members Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger and John Densmore did not always approve of Jim’s eccentric on-stage behaviour but it drove women crazy. We’re shown all this in the film written by Randall Jahnson and Oliver Stone.

Val Kilmer immortalised the 1960s star with fervour, induced by the alcohol, sex, lies and drugs. Of course on screen. That film, without a doubt is a masterpiece, a fictionalised (to an extent) yet believable account of the rise of rock band The Doors, and the rise and death of its lead vocalist Jim Morrison. Kilmer is killer.

In Imtiaz Ali’s Rockstar, Delhi boy Janardhan Jhakar (JJ in short and later Jordan) worships Jim Morrison. Played by the impeccable Ranbir Kapoor, JJ’s wall at home is plastered by posters of his icon. Desperate to imitate Jim, attitude, music et al, JJ is told “music comes from pain” by his mentor and later manager one Khataraji.

The vulnerable joker fakes falling in with a stunningly beautiful dancer from the college across the road. He approaches the college tota (I learnt this is what Delhiites call an ‘item’ of a woman) Heer, only to strike an unusual friendship with the otherwise suave, homely Kashmiri girl. He even helps in her wedding preparations and all the while there’s not a whiff of impending romance that could take life-altering turns. But, predictably, it does.

The makers of Rockstar stay away from the usual culprits causing degeneration of these rock star type: alcohol, drugs, abuse, sex. In contrast, Oliver Stone’s The Doors focuses on exactly that, apart from the other paramount factor: the music. We see how the iconic ‘C’mon baby light my fire’ got a life of its own, with a hazy promotion of free love, drug use and sex. We see Jim’s journey from a nobody to a sought-after rockstar to a degenerated alcoholic wanting to have no relationship with responsibility.

We miss that journey of Jordan’s musical genius, but we see/hear AR Rahman’s haunting score that is weaved beautifully in the screenplay of Rockstar. Being angry at the press, his fans is JJ’s nature — wonder what makes him so cross with life when his serious romantic side is seen only in a Czech field when he shares a passionate kiss with the now not-so happily married Heer. Fame hasn’t done much for inner peace, he admits. Brawls with the police are normal for JJ. The parallels between JJ and Jim are inevitable.

Stone’s baby-faced Jim is a rebel when it comes to his music. Here’s what he answers a journalist’s “What are your songs about Mr. Morrison?”

“...love death travel... revolt... we're interested in anything about disorder, chaos, especially activity which seems to have no meaning... I think when you make peace with authority, you become authority.” (Yes, I played this again and again so I could write it down and quote it).

JJ aspires to become Jim and while Rockstar, a love story at the heart, gets tedious after a point (the second half in particular), The Doors never does. Oliver Stone uses enough irresponsible behaviour to keep you hooked, apart from the love angle involving Jim Morrison’s longtime girlfriend Pamela Courson (played by Meg Ryan). Imtiaz Ali’s rock star is more about anger and pain, he doesn’t even drink. And if there’s any use of drugs, we never see it on screen. Ranbir is captivating, love or no love, drugs or no drugs.

And what on earth could be wrong with Nargis? With a face as pretty as hers she could get by anything, but her dialogue delivery and expressions are just misplaced. Babe, how about just sly smiles and killer looks with lips sealed from start to end? Sounds fun, no?

Rockstar’s music is heavenly. Apart from Ranbir, it’s only the second reason the film needs to be watched. Naadan Parindey, Kun Faaya Kun,Tum Ho and of course Saada Haq are best among the lot. From the maker of love stories Jab We Met (my all time favourite) and Love Aaj Kal, Rockstar could be just another story without the Rahman touch.

Rockstar deserves to be watched at least once. The Doors will need more than just 2.20 hours of your time.

Enjoy these trailers. Decide for yourselves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWrqjz7p8d8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xk8T3UCKTew

The Diwali prayer

My life was beautiful until a week ago when they started the war against humanity.

Being the only child of the family, expectedly, mother’s love knew no bounds. It still doesn’t.

Still remember the day Daddy brought me home. I’m the kid who doesn’t like milk and biscuits. Meat, cold cuts and ice cream is the stuff for me.

Since the past five days, there has been utter chaos all over the area.

Mother’s been looking prettier than she always does. She’s wearing a saree today, diamond-studded earrings, bangles that clink to make a soothing symphony all day. Daddy’s wearing something something festive too. I’m guessing the dangerous thunder’s got something to do with celebration. Daddy says it’s the festival of lights – Diwali. No wonder the streets are wearing dresses of colourful lights and plastic. There’s one hanging outside our home too.

The neighbourhood kid tells me its everywhere, on the streets, the opposite building, even the otherwise silent church compound.

They sound like bombs, puke fire on their way and I’m guessing, get vanquished in the process. I heard Daddy talking about suicide bombers. I think they’re something like that. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. I’ve been hiding under the sofa all day.

Mother’s warmth has been guaranteeing some peace of mind and Daddy says he’ll give the naughty neighbourhood boys a piece of his mind. Daddy says they’re bursting something called “crackers”. It seems they dangerous to our surroundings and he used a word that sounded like pollination. Even my most favourite place, Shivaji Park is full of smoke and noise. It gives me a weird feeling in the throat. Waiting for all it to end.

If you are reading this, please help me spread the message. Take a moment and think of me and my friends. Is the noise really important? Why not celebrate with lights only? From what I see right now, the world looks beautiful when it wears these dresses made of shiny bulbs. I’m sure, minus the crackers, it’ll be only much more beautiful.

I’m sure I’m not the only dog hating it all. Let’s have a Happy Diwali in the truest sense.

PS: I’ve never had a pet and I’m not an animal lover. But right now, I don’t feel any less than the scared dog I saw at Shivaji Park yesterday. I’m not against festivals or celebrations. How about just keeping them traditional, enjoying the true meaning of the festival? Lighting up somebody/pet’s life by having a cracker-free Diwali? Why not start by burning one cracker less? I’m sure that cracker will make a world of a difference to many like me and those pets who suffer while the world celebrates.

My Damadamm letter to Himeshbhai

Film: Damadamm (U/A)

Cast: Himesh Reshammiya, Purbi Joshi, Sonal Sehgal & others
Director: Swapna Waghmare
Rating: Not required

Dear Himesh,

Hearty congratulations on the release of your fifth movie.

You must be one proud ‘actor’ to have pulled off the feat, with the tide always against your so-called talent. Yes, you can dismiss this claim as a lame generalisation made in thin air. But I’m yet to come across a person who has expressed any kind of love for your art. And I will wait.

This is not to undermine your ‘talent’ in any way but to laud your self-confidence.

I write to tell you I watched Damadamm and there were some doubts that immediately crept up. First, why was the film’s name changed from Ishq Unplugged to Damadamm? Secondly, why Damadamm? Thirdly, why you? I could go on. But I guess these are trivial things.

Let’s talk about the story. Your character is in a relationship with Shikha (Purbi Joshi) for five years. Isn’t that too long a time to suffer a “possessive, nagging” girlfriend? You seemed unhappy with the way she controlled your every move. Didn’t breaking up sound like a great idea considering how overdone the insecurity was? You find “freedom” when she’s away on a trip to hometown Indore.

You even croon:

I need my space
I want freedom
I need my space
I want freedom.

Hmm… In fact, being the music director, you made sure every song had some English lines like ‘No touching, no touching, only seeing only seeing’. May be someday, we the audience, will learn to forgive how off-key and forced it sounds. But for you, sir, we’ll put up with that too. So much for the love of the colonialists’ language and HR Musik. Let’s also keep the nasal bent for another day.

Then came the twist in the form of “hot, curvy” Sanjana (Sonal Sehgal) who happened to be your boss’s sister. She even takes an immediate liking to you. Hats off to the girl! So much courage, conviction and expression to show even an inkling of attraction to a man like you! For that matter, even Purbi (who’s met tremendous success with her comedy acts on reality shows) needs to be applauded for being so aptly plausible. Signs of a good actress.

How we all wish relationships were as easy and exes came running into our arms after bitter breakups. Only you can make it all look possible, believable and bearable. I must congratulate you again for sticking to the four expressions we saw in the Damadamm posters (scroll up). Oh yes, how can I forgot to add the eternal pout. It is okay for you to think it made you look ‘sexy’. Someone rightly said: ‘Who has confidence in himself will gain the confidence of others.’ In that case, Himeshbhai you can keep pouting forever.

Do convey my good wishes to your director Swapna Waghmare. Her audacity to work with Himesh the actor is salute-worthy.

Oops! Amid all this sugar-coated ranting I forgot to wish you a Happy Diwali.

A humble request: Do refrain from ‘acting’ in such dumb-a-dumb disasters. There are only so many blasts our weak hearts can take during Diwali.

Yours faithfully

A fan that was never meant to be.

This post first appeared here: http://www.dnaindia.com/entertainment/review_review-damadamm-no-seeing-no-seeing_1603105

Nine months

We don’t see the same moon
For as long as it takes
A little new life to see Mother Earth

Emotions engage in a scuffle
Love, longing, hope
All vying for attention.

Home and distance sickness
Inflicts both our worlds.
Trying to remain unaffected
New life awaits us every nine months

Up to us now
To stick around
To keep the word still
By our resolute will.

Review: Saheb Biwi Aur Gangster is a rassi bomb of a film

Director: Tigmanshu Dhulia
Cast: Jimmy Shergill, Randeep Hooda, Mahie Gill, Deepal Shaw
Rating: ****

The quest for finding lost respect is the wheel this Tigmanshu Dhulia film runs on.

The Saheb is in search of lost paisa. He has rutba (class) in abundance.

The Biwi is in search of izzat lost to the baharwali (courtesan). She has sex appeal in abundance.

The Gangster is in search of ‘class’ he never had. He has attitude in abundance.

It’s a deadly milieu. Set in the badlands of UP, where politics, relationships and anything to do with anyone is only dirty. The sanctity of nothing is preserved, not of the palace, the royal bloodline and even of the marriage of Saheb (Jimmy Shergill) and Choti Rani (Mahie Gill). Irreverence is the order of the day and all those involved unapologetically go about their life, their style.

Biwi loves the Saheb, Saheb loves the mistress. Enter Gangster who now loves the Biwi. Throw in a bit of politics and that’s roughly what SBAG is about.

Director Tigmanshu Dhulia etches out his characters with care. All well-fleshed out, none overshadowing the other, ever. There are some characters in the periphery too, Deepraj Rana as Kanhaiya, Shreya Narayan as mistress Mahua, Vipin Sharma as Genda Singh and Deepal Shaw as (I don’t remember her name). All make the most of the screen time they’re given to pack in good acting and dialogue delivery. Deepal Shaw can act and proves yet again she’s left her item girl past far behind.

What Jimmy does in SBAG make me desperate to see more of him on screen. Directors, please take note. He’s suave and rugged at the same time, a desirable yet undesirable royal.

Mahie’s character gives justification to all those betrayed men and their hatred for womankind. She is naturally bitchy and cunning while Randeep is one bad guy you want to love. They follow the director’s vision to the T, to take you through a ride you enjoy from the beginning to the end. A journey so charged with varied emotions, you can’t help but wonder ‘Dude, how could s/he he do this?’. But you always end adding ‘WOW’ to that sentence.

Tigmanshu’s script is most engaging, peppered with witty dialogue, wry humour, supported by an assortment of actors who take their roles very seriously.

In an interview I read, Tigmanshu said his film was “not a frivolous sex film”. No doubt passions run fast, the need of love and revenge run faster. He is of course allowed to take his liberties on how much sex he wants to show in his film and I can blame my discomfort on my conservative Catholic upbringing. It’s convenient that way.

Saheb Biwi Aur Gangster is recommended viewing, explosive and appealing. Go have a rassi bomb of a time!

Shabri review

Shabri
Directed by Lalit Marathe
Cast: Isha Koppikar, Raj Arjun, Zakir Hussain
Rating: ***

My friend Jane recently wrote the deservedly much-publicised book Mafia Queens of Mumbai with her boss Hussain Zaidi. I remember how she’d narrate heroic tales of the many women she met during the research of the book. You must read the book to know the kind of effort that went into its making. It’s gripping, well-written and real, all at the same time. The idea of women dons is exciting nonetheless. And this exactly what is explored in Shabri, a film with a female don protagonist.

I happened to meet Shabri’s director Lalit Marathe, who told me that the idea of a female don in a man’s world came to him by an anecdote narrated by his mentor Ram Gopal Verma. It goes like this: a gangster was once arrested, and with him was one woman. He pleaded that the woman should be let off as she didn’t have a clue about his wrongdoings. Turned out it was because of the woman that the man had, firstly, landed in the police net.

He said he did not find women per se interesting as gangsters. His debut film Shabri which has been ready for release for five years and finally opened to critical acclaim on August 26^th.

Khallas Girl Isha Koppikkar plays the lead. Poverty and the hunger for revenge of her brother’s death set Shabri on the path of gangster-giri. It’s all in her eyes, the anger, the love and the grief caused by her brother’s death in police custody.

As Shabri, Isha is extremely convincing. Her make-up, dialogue delivery and body language oozes confidence even though this is the first time she’s faces the camera in a de-glamourised avatar. Lalit Marathe knows his subject so well he manages to extract stellar performances from his cast. Raj Arjun as Murad is understated in a good way, naturally delivering a performance that stays with you, complicated and played with conviction. Raj has been associated with theatre and had a miniscule role in RGV’s Company. Zakir Hussain who plays a cop is introduced only in the second half, impressing the audience all the way to the end.

The story may be predictably familiar throughout, but it’s definitely hard-hitting and realistic. In a chat with the director, he admitted that references from his own life had been incorporated heavily in the film. The chawls, matka scenes, chases are all well-perceived and executed.

The only problem I had with the film was its background score. Somehow it didn’t seem to be in sync with what was happening on screen. It was too loud, too creepy or too serious. It sounded overdone just to make an impact and convey seriousness, but fails to make the cut.

Overall, it is a film made by a passionate man, wanting to tell his story. Like his mentor RGV, Lalit Marathe does resort to theatrics but it’s all good in the end.

Watch Shabri for its great performances!

"Freedom" 2011

Here's what Independence Day and "freedom" is to me this year.

"Freedom" is:

- Spending time in office when the world and its cousin are making pancakes/paatoyos at home

- Explaining to kids why a newspaper press is exempt from being off on a public holiday, in kiddie language

- Skipping lunch, which includes the Mom's most awesome beef roast ever

- Missing the youngest cousin's birthday

- Playing host to the unpleasant visitor called regret

A Happy Independence Day indeed.

I am Kalam review

Film: I Am Kalam
Director: Nila Madhab Panda
Cast: Harsh Mayar, GulshanGrover, Pitobash Tripathy
Rating: ***1/2

Answer these questions, one by one.

Who is your idol?

Did you love to go to school? College?

What games did you enjoy? How did you treat your pet?

How many times have you taken for granted your education and position?

How sensitive have you been to the needs of those less-privileged, seeking you help without asking for it?

Chances are you may write me off a Catholic convent-educated oldie brainwashed to put the world before yourself.

I Am Kalam is one of those films which asks you questions of your own upbringing, how many times we value it an dhow many times we take it for granted.

Eight-year old Chhotu (and endearing Harsh Mayar) is sent away by his mother to work at his uncle Mamasa’s (Gulshan Grover) dhaba in the desert of Rajasthan. The boy is bright, friendly and most importantly willing to learn so he can change the circumstances he’s thrown in. His idol is India’s former President APJ Abdul Kalam. So inspired Chhotu is by Kalam’s own inspiring story that he rechristens himself Kalam, a beginning of much bigger dreams coming true. He loves reading and depends on patrons of the dhaba to learn words of foreign languages. All this he does with ease, a big smile and eager eyes.

His choice of idol and ambition is in stark contrast with that of his uncle’s assistant at the dhaba. Laptan (Pitobash Tripathy) dreams Bollywood, adores Amitabh Bachchan and wants to be paired with the industry’s best heroines. An anti-hero in I Am Kalam, Laptan’s greatest enemy is Chhotu’s hunger for education, a better life and willingness to work towards realising these dreams.

Director Nila Madhab Panda has a heartfelt and simple story, which he peppers, very subtly with social messages that get the audience thinking. A strong comment on the differences in modern society, how one’s karma can upstage one’s kismet and how one man’s story can change the outlook of the many following in his/her footsteps.

Mohana Krishna’s cinematography captures the barren lands of Rajasthan perfectly, juxtaposing it with the fertile mind of Chhotu. Harsh Mayar is a gem, his eyes expressive, his acting skills natural. The background score minimal, while the running time is just about perfect.

Watch this one for a heartfelt account of what happens to those who dare to dream. No one can come between you and your dreams, not even fate, is what I Am Kalam conveys, subtly and beautifully. A must watch, touching and inspirational.

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara review

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (U/A)
Cast: Hrithik Roshan, Farhan Akhtar, Katrina Kaif, Kalki Koechlin, Abhay Deol
Director: Zoya Akhtar
Rating: ***

"Seize the day, my friend," blurts the stunning deep-sea diving instructor Laila (Kaif), on a long walk with an uptight financial broker Arjun (Roshan). Arjun hasn't lived much, nor have his friends -- the apparently spineless Kabir (Deol) and jovial, closet poet Imran (Farhan). The adage pretty much sums up ZNMD.

It's a long, boring advertisement for Spain Tourism, warned a colleague whose "sources" had these precious words about ZNMD. I can safely say, it's a little more than that.

How do they land in Spain? Well, the boys had made a certain pact that each would suggest an adventure sport and the other two would have to follow. Screenplay writers Reema Kagti and Zoya Akhtar (also director) bring to the table a very beautifully captured Spain, by cinematographer Carlos Catalan. No no, that's not all. Along with Spain, they bring relationships of their protagonists with themselves and each other. Undercurrents unleashed by emotional turmoil, friendship, and finally the unloading of mental baggage, so as to emerge victorious in the truest sense.

For all this, the storywriters use heavy doses of symbolism. Deep-sea diving at Costa Brava, sky-diving in Sevilla and the San Fermin bull run in Pamplona, not to forget the Tomatina festival in Bunyol, where Arjun finally lets go. Fears are drowned, let open in the sky and finally at the mercy of raging bulls.

Performances are honest and telling across the board, yet Farhan stands out (Warning: Some bias may be at play here). Roshan, Deol and Farhan stick to their briefs by Zoya, often contained, and true to their characters, and never over-the-top. They let the characters' intrinsic qualities do the talking. Similarly with Koechlin, whose prim and proper Natasha is, admittedly, not much like her real life persona. They're all easy-going, playing their parts and enjoying while in the act. Kaif's "tumhari zindagi badalnewali hai" made me cringe, but overall her effort to make Laila believable cannot be undermined. You wish you could have a life like hers, jetting off to a part of the world for three months of daredevilry and loads of fun.

Witty dialogue (credited to Farhan himself), playful chitchat and the camaraderie between the friends personify ZNMD. However, the lack of chemistry among them in the first hour cannot be ignored. ZNMD has so many silent moments, it's likely to put you to sleep. The editing tools could have been sharper to give this coming-of-age romantic drama a facelift. Restlessness is the unwelcome guest on this road, much like Kabir's fiancée Natasha.

Sounds uncannily similar to Farhan's directorial debut Dil Chahta Hai, right? Now if you take DCH as the benchmark, it's up to you how slow/polished/boring/unnecessary/pretty you find ZNMD.

Your heart is likely to be set upon the beats of ZNMD, from the free-spirited Ik Junnon to the mellow Khwabon Ke Parindey, not to forget the unforgettable Senorita. And Farhan's poetry infused in the narrative needs special mention. True Akhtar blood must say!

The writers exploit luxury and frankly, ZNMD set anywhere else could be as true to character. They didn't really have to go to Spain.

For those (which, I assume, is a lot of us), who may not be able to afford a holiday in Spain for any time soon, go catch ZNMD for good performances, music, Spain and of course, Farhan Akhtar in his element.

This post first appeared at http://www.dnaindia.com/entertainment/report_zindagi-na-milegi-dobara-review_1565930

Delhi Belly review

Delhi Belly has the gift of the goo

Cast: Imran Khan, Shenaz Tresurywala, Vir Das, Kunaal Roy Kapoor
Director: Abhinay Deo
Rating: A 4 full of shit

Man this Kunaal Roy Kapoor or Nitin of Delhi Belly is a sweet bum (no pun intended). He’s made my love for shit and all things shitty grow fonder, stronger, and unbreakable. And he even has the gift of the goo, oh sorry, gab.

[An inside story: At home at least 96% of all our conversations (esp. between my sis and me) involve hagovni (hug-ova-nee), hagvatoss (hug-way-toes), and all things goo a.k.a shit. And when a movie with shit as a protagonist shows up in a theatre near our house, my joy couldn’t give a shit]

I watched Delhi Belly first day first show (like most movies I don’t get to watch for free at press screenings). And it was right after a session of Yoga, no breakfast and half a dump. I know all these non-events don’t really matter and all you want to know about is what Delhi Belly is about.

So yeah, Tashi (Imran), Arup (Vir) and Nitin (Kunaal) live a dumpyard, yes that’s exactly what most bachelors’ “home” looks like. Water’s always running out, the ceiling threatening to call it quits, pet cockroaches ever grateful for half-eaten pizzas, and a devil of a landlord always ready to throw you out any instance.

Journalist Tashi deals with bimbettes as with murder mysteries, art director with “talentless Bong art director” for a boss and cute, cute Nitin deals with a Delhi Belly. Mind you that’s a lot of work. Running in and out of the loo, with a flush that’s waterless is a lot of work.

A turn of events involving Tashi’s fiancé Sonia (Shenaz), a Russian doll and a bottle full of gooey, watery excrement is what takes you on a fun ride that’s Delhi Belly.

None of the actors are ever over-the-top and yet manage to keep you hooked and happy throughout the interval-less 96 minutes of the film.

I’m confused who is the best of the cast. I think it’s a tie between villain Vijay Raaz and Kunaal Roy Kapoor, Vijay for his understated yet effective acting and Kunaal for his one-liners and bang on comic timing. Imran strips that boy-next-door image to show his funny side and impresses beyond expectations. Vir Das the Weirdass is logically in a comedy after splitting peoples’ guts with his stand up comedy. Shenaz reminds me of my school days. She used to be a VJ some years back, disappeared mysteriously thereafter and has appeared as mysteriously again. Never mind. She’s good enough in DB and that’s what matters. Oh how can I forget Poorna Jagannathan who plays Menaka, Tashi’s colleague, fresh and expressive face with loads of acting talent. Even Vijay Raaz’s sidekicks offer kicks enough to keep your interest live throughout.

DB’s story is simplistic but its treatment, music and talented cast make the difference. A chase sequence is just more enjoyable because of ‘Bhag DK Bose’, while Vir’s ‘Ja Chudail’ has made getting dumped attractive. Aamir Khan’s item number when end credits roll is the added award.

Upbeat, shameless, unapologetic and unrelenting. Abbey ch**ye bahut ho gaya. People have got the point.

Need I say more? Dear potty, I will stand by you forever. Someday we’ll make a shit of a film together. Just like DB.

PS: Weirdass for Vir Das is not original. His company’s called Weirdass Comedy.

Shivaji Park - The nostalgia factory

Everybody has a place dear to them during their growing up years.

Shivaji Park is etched in the memory of my past, present and hopefully at least the near future.
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Having lived in Matunga all my life, Shivaji Park has been the go-to place, be it on every mid-week holiday (most Mahim-Matunga schools have it), every summer vacation as a child, for teenage romance getaways and now in the evenings when the job allows that rare spare time.

The squeaky slides in the kids’ park, the sound of laughter springing from the group of dentures in the senior citizens’ park, the soiled, white clothes of future Sachin Tendulkars practising master strokes, the smell of mud after the first monsoon showers, the golawalla at the corner, the Mangola-potato chips-eclairs picnics are some of memories painted around this place called Shivaji Park.

Urged to write about Park or SP (as most people in the area call it) are the recent changes it has gone through. And yes, this is no PR exercise for the BMC.

For as long as I can remember, it did not have any dustbins, making visitors litter. The BMC, some years back, erected a huge board near one of the entrances listing the fines for littering. With no dustbin in sight, the board had a heap of garbage right at its feet. Recently, little silver bins have been placed, looking at which I can’t stop smiling. BMC just gave my tirade against littering a shiny boost, or so I’d like to think.

New metal benches lining a selected section of the playground see a competition among couples as well as senior citizens waiting to rest their derrieres while watching young boys kick ball. It’s fun to see how there’s literally a race to get to the benches facing the ground.

The air seems to have got a quaint touch, thanks to the pretty, black lampposts around the ground. They don’t exactly serve the purpose of lighting the area brightly but do add to the path’s beauty. The newly-laid tiles and distance signages make for a pleasurable walking experience.

One step in the beautification plan that hasn’t gone down too well with me is the fencing around the trees on the walking path. Protecting trees may have been the idea, but railings that encroach upon the walking space is not done. The ‘katta’, or sitting area, has been painted a bright green and happy yellow adding to the park’s attractiveness. I even came across a board the BMC has put up enlisting the phases of development and beautification. Seems we’re likely to see changes that’ll influence the memories of the generations to come.

These changes haven’t messed with the park’s soul. It offers everyone something to cheer, be it the sports enthusiast, or the toddler taking his/her first step, the nana-nanis, the budding lovers and also the happily married.

Even I’m not complaining as I have got new reasons to enjoy quiet evenings there and make new memories.

So, what is your Shivaji Park memory?

June 5: World Environment Day

Litter one paper less.
Save one drop of water more.
Switch power off when you go.
To plastic say no.

From today, let’s put ‘environment’ in World Environment Day.

The fear of memory loss

Today something very strange happened. It’s not unusual for me to forget things.

I’ve learnt to address my memory issues. Every morning I make a list of things I have to do. These could include: Go to work, Pay phone bill, Train pass expires, Eyebrows, Call so-and-so, etc.

I know these are not extraordinary chores and at some point or the other each of us forget to do any of the above things. A while ago my phone had reminders like: Turn off milk gas, Rosy aunty unwell, Fill water at 9.30, Troy on HBO. Just the day before I couldn’t think of the word ‘sustainable’ while writing a review. I knew exactly what I wanted to say but still couldn’t.

Today I had to go to Andheri (yes, godforsaken Andheri) for a movie screening. Fun Republic and Andheri is general is where in a week at least one film is screened. I got off at the bus stop before CitiMall and kept walking.

I realised I couldn’t remember where I was going. I walked upto Infiniti Mall and back, trying hard to remember which lane I had to get in. With loud music in my ears I felt, for the first time, a fear. The fear that memory loss could bring. I saw my phone had a reminder SMS from the PR about the press show at 12 noon Fun Republic. Phew! Gathering my thoughts I tried calling my cousin who works in the same lane as Fun. No answer. Finally I asked a man where Fun was and he told me the left at the signal.

After reaching Fun I struggled to find the way to the special screening theatre.

There’s something really weird about not remembering things. Worse is not knowing where you, what you’re there for and how you got there. Hoping this was just a one off incident. Definitely don’t want a repeat of such a thing.

The smart-phone generation

Here's my Mumbai Muse that appeared in DNA on May 8

A friend was bragging about the apps on her new Android phone as we sat in a dark theatre waiting for the film to begin.

“The Shakespeare app gives me a list of sonnets, plays, etc of the Bard,” she said. “And I’m so addicted to the e-book app. So much so that I have developed a number and have to wear specs.”

“Oh,” I expressed wonder. “What else can your phone do?” I was quick to cash in on the opportunity to get a free lesson in new mobile-phone technology.

She said her friends shop online. Every time they come across something they like, they take pictures and send them to the others online. After some discussion, the prospective buyer makes his/her decision. Sounds like a cool way of operating. But is this all friendshipshave come to? I mean, whatever happened to those days when, in girlish excitement, we’d call each other andmeet up at Bandra or Lokhandwala to shop?

For me, a phone has always been (and always will be) a little box that fits into the palm of my hand, makes and receives calls, sends urgent texts, perhaps plays the radio, and has a fairly good memory to contain my ever-increasing contact list. A mobile phone for me carries out basic communication functions. Treating it like a convenience store doesn’t seem to be my cup of tea (maybe if I had a new-age phone, I would bask in the glory of what it could do for me).

But with life as it is now, everybody seems to be running to catch the next big thing. From the regular Nokia with radio to cameras to touch screens to QWERTY keypads to what not. When the BlackBerry arrived, everybody wanted a piece of it. And now it seems like everybody has one. A friend (who did not own a BB until a few days ago) even observed that many of our common teenage buddies managed to find partners after they got BlackBerries. How, you might ask. Young boys and girls sharing BB pins and chatting away all day have cemented relationships, it seems. A BB messenger is probably their channel for finding love, while for us it used to be religious and social events like weddings, etc.

I’m baffled while I wonder if anyone communicates the way we did just a few years ago. Hello/Hi have made way for Wassup. (I still don’t have an answer satisfactory enough for that question.) People don’t laugh the hahahahah way anymore, they only LOL/LMAO/ROTFLMAO/ and such like. You’re only as cool as the number of Facebook friends you have. That you keep in touch with only two of them is a different matter altogether.

I may sound like an old cynic who cannot see and appreciate the wonders the new-age mobile phones and internet have brought into our lives. But think about it. Don’t you miss the good ol’ days of meet and greet?

In short

Fool
Drool
Loner
Corner
Refuse
Recluse
Decent
Reticent
Absolutely magnificent :-D

The liar

You told you’d hold me forever
You said you’d never let me down
We would be together
In happiness and in every frown

You told me you’d come around
You said you’d always be mine
With you I felt safe and sound
Dates, dinners, cheese and wine

You told me we were meant to be
You said we’ll walk the aisle
T’was a lie, turns out to be
Hidden behind that sinister smile

I see you lied
Leaving me tongue-tied
And no matter where you go
I have to let you know
If you don’t find a love so true
Come back, I’ll be waiting for you