Calcutta Chromosome

Continuing a discussion on @genderlogindia after this post of mine, there was a discussion on the 'real women' in Bollywood - who seem to be in short supply. I immediately indulged in my favourite pastime - Bollywood research - and looked at the top 10 grossers for each year, going back about forty years. In about 400 films, I found about twenty films in which the lead actress was 'real' and yet a 'heroine'. That is to say, I did not consider Rohini Hattangadi in Saaransh or Rani Mukherji in Talaash. They were – of course – very real but not really heroines. I also avoided characters who were differently abled or suffering from a disease (Priyanka Chopra in Barfi, for example).

Then, I sat and cribbed about my favourite ‘real women’ who are from very successful films even though they are not among the top 10 blockbusters of a given year. To solve this dilemma, I fell back on the usual awards night trick. I created two lists – one popular and one critic’s choice.

And here they come...

Popular Choice Real Women

Deepika Padukone (Love Aaj Kal) – She was indecisive. She was impulsive. She was career focused. She had a heart of gold. She was also selfish. She was completely real, except for her legs. They seemed to have come from some mythical land of milk and honey.

Priyanka Chopra (Kaminey) – A gangster’s sister, she was the regular Maharashtrian girl with a silly name (Sweety) and a sillier boyfriend (Shahid Kapoor). She danced at her own wedding like a filmy heroine but her steps weren’t choreographed and had a charm of their own. She got her boyfriend to take condoms on an overnight trip but abandoned them when the going got too hot.

16 Heroines (Chak De India) – Hailing from different parts of India, these girls brought the smell of sweat and dirt with them. They wore no makeup. They got angry when their careers were ignored. They got determined when their honour was at stake. They were jealous, naughty, defiant, combative, strong-willed and – when you look carefully – breathtakingly beautiful.

Aishwarya Rai (Guru) – The Gujarati village girl transformed with her husband. She was his business partner and calmly stepped forward to take responsibilities when a crisis arose. She was there at parties, shareholder meetings and courtrooms. She was his force whether he was out fighting corporate battles or medical ones. In other words, she was his Shakti.

Manisha Koirala (Company) – I haven’t seen a gangster’s moll. Then how do I know Manisha was realistic? I saw her as the busy boss’ wife in a corporate wife. She had nothing to do. She was bored. She was into mild substance abuse. And he suffered the minions politely and with a smile. She liked some of them and tried to patch up when differences arose but had to give up, since she was always on the periphery.

Preity Zinta (Dil Chahta Hai) – An orphan caught in a near-abusive relationship looked for companionship and found a cocky lout instead. But she didn’t let his smart-alecky burst her dreamy notions of romantic love nor did she lose her dignity with her boorish boyfriend. She handled both relationships maturely – like real women do.

Juhi Chawla (Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak) – In an unreal world of death before dishonour, she was the breath of fresh air. She was a college girl who went on picnics, got lost in forests while trekking, took pictures of handsome strangers and was bashfully forthright about her feelings for handsome strangers.

Shabana Azmi (Arth) – She left her adulterous husband and forged an identity of her own. She struggled to find a job. She found love but was unsure about it. She supported her maid’s daughter’s education. In short, she was the woman next door till her husband wanted to come back to her. Would you have taken me back if I had done the same thing, she asked. And gently shut the door in his face.

Raakhee (Trishul) – Her boss’ son called her ‘computer’. In the 1970s, a computer was a machine “jo har sawaal ka sahi jawaab deti hai”. She was a no-nonsense working woman, who was honest and hardworking. She even remembered cement quotas from long-forgotten files and never complained about working hours.

Parveen Babi (Deewaar) – She was the first Hindi film prostitute who did not sell her body for her mother’s medicine or her brother’s education. She was a victim of circumstances but she did not let it show. She wanted to get married and settle down but she did not impose that wish on the man she loved. She solicited customers in high-end bars but she fell in love with a stranger.

Critic’s Choice Real Women

Vidya Sinha (Chhoti Si Baat, Rajanigandha) – The working woman getting wooed by colleagues or co-passengers on bus stops and Samovar restaurant must have been quite common in 1970s Bombay. What’s so heroic about her? Her boyfriends were the ones jumping through the hoops. Yaar, kuch to baat hogi ki ladkon ko itna paagal kar de!

Urmila Matondkar (Ek Hasina Thi) – She was a regular girl working at a travel agency when a smooth charmer walked in and shattered her life. Her gullibility was ruthlessly exposed but she made an even more ruthless plan for retribution and got her vengeance. And not for a second did she look anything but the girl next door.

Chitrangada Singh (Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi) – The whole world and their cousins fell in love with Geeta. She was in love with a Naxal sympathiser. She married an IAS officer. She was wooed by a wheeler-dealer. Eventually, she did something nobody expected her to do. And you fell in love with her, her casual top knot, her wistful eyes, her handloom saree.

Konkona Sen Sharma (Wake Up Sid) – She did not like jazz and said it without pretensions. She wanted to write but was willing to bide her time. She was wary of spoilt brats but was loyal to them if they became friends.

Anushka Sharma (Band Baajaa Baraat) – Even before she graduated, she had a business plan. She knew where she would get trained. She knew how to keep business and personal relations separate. She knew what to spend and what to invest. And she knew she was not about to marry just yet. She was your regular Janakpuri girl, just the right mix of silk and steel.

Yami Gautam (Vicky Donor) – She started off superbly as the Bengali bank manager having to suffer the Punjabi alpha male. She ended brilliantly as the young wife coming to terms with her inability to conceive. You could say she was yummy and a mummy.

Vidya Balan (Kahaani) – A pregnant woman looking for her husband in a city about to celebrate its most boisterous, crowded festival. A wife totally in love with her husband whom nobody has seen. A patriot who was willing to take on corrupt officials and homicidal insurance agents. Vidya Bagchi, you sexy thing.

The Critic’s list is shorter because three entries got consumed in the Popular list.

By all accounts, Shudh Desi Romance looks like the film that will contribute an entry or two to either of these two lists. Will update after I watch it.

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

As two PCs face off in today’s box-office battle, it might be a good idea to look at sisters in Bollywood. Priyanka and Parineeti are cousins but Hindi cinema is full of sisters who have been anything from wildly to moderately to not-at-all successful.

I would stick my neck out and call Tanuja and Nutan the most successful pair of sisters in Bollywood history. In terms of sheer durability and histrionic range, they have no parallels.

Nutan did sensitive, heroine-driven roles like Bandini, Seema, Sujata and Saudagar. She also donned a swimsuit in a madcap comedy like Dilli Ka Thug. She was the romantic lead in superhits like Tere Ghar Ke Samne and Paying Guest. She ended with strong mother roles like Karma, Meri Jung and Naam. In short, she was a superb actress. In fact, she has won five Filmfare awards for Best Actress – a record she shares with her niece, Kajol.

Tanuja was the spunkier of the two sisters. She acted in some huge hits like Jewel Thief, Haathi Mere Sathi and Mere Jeevan Sathi though her box-office potential was not fully realised. She had a strong career in Bengali cinema and she followed up her leading lady days with a great stint as ‘mother’ – in films as diverse as Love 86, Aatish and Khakee.

Commercially, there is nobody to beat the Kapoor sisters.

Karisma started off in horrendous – yet hugely successful – films with Govinda and David Dhawan. Raja Babu, Coolie No. 1and Hero No. 1 were massive hits though she was looked at with considerable derision for doing these. She changed all that when she did the second lead in a Yash Chopra film – Dil To Paagal Hai– and held her own against Madhuri Dixit. Her clothes and image saw a dramatic makeover as she not only became a Manish Malhotra muse but also acted in critically acclaimed roles like Fiza and Zubeidaa. She quit films after her marriage but looks all set to make a comeback after her divorce.

It is ironic that despite having a string of memorable films, Kareena is mostly discussed for her Size Zero figure and her love life. She has acted in massive hits (3 Idiots, Bodyguard, Jab We Met) as well as arthouse, performance-oriented films (Chameli, Dev, Omkara). She has been subdued (Kurbaan) as well as over the top (Golmaal 3). In short, she is the quintessential Bollywood heroine.

Karisma and Kareena are the only two siblings to have been nominated for the Filmfare Best Actress award in the same year (2002). They were beaten by another sister, Kajol.

Tanuja’s daughter came to Bollywood with a similar mix of talent and chutzpah. While Tanuja was often seen to be too much of a rebel, Kajol fitted right in with the modern times.

She overcame her not-classical looks with some great acting in iconic films – the most memorable one being Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Indian cinema’s longest running blockbuster. Her acting and charm landed her meaty roles and she played them with aplomb right from her first hit (Baazigar) to one-off parts after marriage (My Name Is Khan). In between, she delivered a string of hits that make her one of the most popular Bollywood actresses of all time.

To use a cricketing term, sister Tanisha did not bother the scorers too much. Her filmography is dubious, to put it mildly, as her best known film seems to be Neal ‘n’ Nikki (which she co-starred with the other under-performing sibling of Bollywood – Uday Chopra). She has also acted in a few South Indian films but never managed to reach even an infinitesimal part of her sister’s success.

While on the subject of Uday Chopra, it might be opportune to bring up Shamita Shetty who made her debut opposite the Yash Raj scion in Mohabbatein. Shamita had an uneven run at the box office and her only (if you insist) memorable role was in Fareb– where she co-starred with her sister, Shilpa competing with her for the affections of Manoj Bajpayee. (Yes, I know. Poor Manoj!)

Shilpa Shetty, of course, fended off far stronger competition than her sister to be the totally hot diva who was a shoo-in for roles that needed svelte figures, dancing and big smiles. Her debut was with the other Big Sister – Kajol – in Baazigarand she followed it up with blockbusters like Main Khiladi Tu Anari and Dhadkan. She even slipped in a couple of ‘award’ roles like Life In A Metro and Phir Milenge before finding international stardom in Celebrity Big Boss and IPL.

Padmini Kolhapure had a successful acting career that started as a child artiste (in films like Satyam Shivam Sundaram and Insaaf Ka Tarazu) and transitioned to an actress. She was always the slightly conservative girl waiting for a breath of fresh air from the hero and her most successful roles were all in this mould – Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hai, Prem Rog and Woh 7 Din, for example. She got married and took a break but has come back in bhabhi roles in the recent past.

Padmini’s younger sister, Tejaswaini, debuted in Anurag Kashyap’s ill-fated Paanchwhich was banned before release and her strong performance went unnoticed. She has acted in a few offbeat ventures and is likely to be seen in Anurag Kashyap’s forthcoming film, Ugly.

Their older sister – Shivangi – is married to Shakti Kapoor.

Farha was part of the assembly line of heroines who starred in near-identical films in the late 80s and 90s. From Love 86 to Rakhwala to Yateem, Farha was moderately successful in tomboyish roles with husky voice and tough-cookie act. She graduated to bhabhi roles towards the later part of her careers (in Hulchul, for example).

Her sister Tabassum a.k.a. Tabu made a child debut in Dev Anand’s Hum Naujawanand then acted in brain-dead hits like Vijaypath, Jeet and Saajan Chale Sasural. Just when we thought she was becoming a clone of her sister, she found her acting groove in Gulzar’s Maachis and followed it up with powerhouse performances in Virasat, Hu Tu Tu, Chandni Barand Maqbool. Her talents have got her into quite a few international productions with Indian connections – The Life of Pi and The Namesake, for example.

Dimple Kapadia had a dream debut in Bobby and an even dreamier wedding to Rajesh Khanna. When the marriage ended, she became back and proceeded to do several memorable films which were either hugely successful (Saagar, Arjun, Ram Lakhan, Krantiveer) or highly acclaimed (Rudaali, Drishti, Lekin) or hot (Jaanbaaz). Even after growing older, she did some very interesting roles that went beyond the ghisa-pita mother-aunty template. Pyar Mein Twist, Dil Chahta Hai, Luck By Chance all had an edge in her roles that made them memorable.

Simple – on the other hand – came into films probably only because producers wanted her sister and she was the nearest they could get. Just one letter changed, you see! Her debut was opposite brother-in-law Rajesh in Anurodh. That film and the subsequent ones did not demonstrate any major acting talent. She eventually went on to become a costume designer in Bollywood.

Dimple’s two daughters followed their mother and aunt too.

Twinkle Khanna debuted opposite Bobby Deol in the latter’s home production and debut vehicle, Barsaat. She was paired opposite nearly every major star of the time – Aamir, SRK, Govinda, Sunny Deol, Saif Ali Khan and of course, Akshay Kumar – though not in their best films. In any case, she found love and left Bollywood for happy matrimony and interior designing.

Twinkle’s sister was named Rinkle though she dropped the L when she entered Bollywood. (Don’t ask me why!) She did some interesting films like Jhankaar Beats and Pyar Mein Kabhi Kabhi. She did not win the Filmfare for the Best Female Debut. If she did, they would have been the only pair of sisters to have done so. (Incidentally, Priyanka and Parineeti have won this debut award double.)

Riya and Raima Sen – daughters of Moonmoon and granddaughters of Suchitra Sen – have toggled between Bengali and Hindi cinema but their Hindi roles have largely been extended cameos. Raima’s has been in Honeymoon Travels Pvt Ltd, Ekalavya and Manorama Six Feet Under among others while Riya played her mother’s daughter in Vishkanya (as a child artiste) and had somewhat visible roles in Jhankaar Beats and Style.

Incidentally, the Sen sisters acted with Sharman Joshi in a film called 3 Bachelors– which was made in early 2000s but had a limited and litigious release in 2012.

Going back to the 1970s and 1980s, we have Vijeta and Sulakshana Pandit whose playback singing and acting careers were intertwined. Their brothers were popular music composers Jatin-Lalit, which probably helped them make the transition. Vijeta had a dream debut opposite Kumar Gaurav in Love Story but couldn’t sustain the momentum. Sulakshana Pandit had an even more undistinguished acting career.

Amrita Arora has acted in a few films here and there, bolstered by many guest appearances in films by friends and family.

Her elder sister, Malaika Arora, has been the greatest exponent of that Bollywood art-form – the Item Number. From Dil Se to Dabangg, she has been a sinewy, sensuous presence in several iconic songs and hasn’t bothered to ‘act’. In Kaante, she was supposed to be a character (who was also a pole dancer) but her few lines of dialogue got missed.

The three Reddy sisters – Sameera, Sushma and Meghna – have a mix of film, music and modelling careers and it is never clear who is more famous for what. If we try to isolate their films, we will find Meghna hasn’t done any Bollywood while Sushma did two blink-and-still-there roles in Chocolateand Chup Chupke.

Sameera has a bigger list of credits though not many have stood the test of time. She has been in Race, Musafir and Darna Mana Haiamong others, though her most inexplicable role must have been in acclaimed director Buddhadeb Dasgupta’s Bengali film, Kaalpurush.

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

As Irrfan opens a lunchbox packed by a woman he has never met and Nawazuddin gets completely taken in by the fragrance, it is just the right time to unpack Bollywood’s adventures in food.

In Bawarchi, Rajesh Khanna was the – well – bawarchi of a constantly squabbling household. Immediately after joining, he made a deliciously exotic Kachche kele ka Dum Pukht. After that, he made some egg kachori to go as snacks with tea and offered to cook a Bengali dish – Shukto, a mix of bitter vegetables cooked in traditional style.

Net result? The two ladies of the house were discussing the weight they had put on.

The most passionate ode to food was paid by Amitabh Bachchan in Cheeni Kum, as the owner-chef of ‘London’s finest Indian restaurant’ (Spice 6). His belated love story began when a customer (Tabu) returned a plate of Hyderabadi Zafrani Pulaoand then returned with a perfect version of the dish. He ate humble pie. And the love story began.

Sidhu (Akshay Kumar) worked with his Dada (Mithun Chakraborty) at their paratha joint in Parathewali gali of Old Delhi. His days were spent in chopping potatoes and onions, kneading the dough and frying the parathas (‘shudh desi ghee se nirmit’). His machine-like movements were preparing him for fighting Chinese villains, which started when he moved from Chandni Chowk To China.

Before he turned a Mafia don in Vaastav, Sanjay Dutt started a pav bhaji stall.

He borrowed from his dad to put up the roadside cart. He trumped his competition by picking up his stock from cheaper markets and by pricing his plate lower than his competition. And his Jai Maharashtra Pav Bhaji Wala stall kicked off with a bang (a song, actually).

Shah Rukh Khan did his food act in Duplicate. When he was not the manic murderer Mannu Dada, he was the bumbling chef Babloo Chaudhry.

Babloo got himself a job with a hotel. The hotel’s Banquet Manager (Juhi Chawla) dispensed with an interview and asked him to prepare a Japanese dish for a delegation scheduled to arrive in the next twenty minutes. Which he did, on a song.

In Kal Ho Naa Ho, Saif Ali Khan’s father was said to have made his fortune in the takeaway food business. The name of their business? Dial-A-Dhokla!

And then Jaya Bachchan was shown to be running a restaurant that was on the verge of shutting down. It was a nondescript American-style diner (called New York). With some help from SRK and her neighbours, she transformed it into a traditional Indian restaurant with an ethnic décor and – eventually – a never-ending queue. The name? New Delhi.

When Omi (Kunal Kapoor) returned from London to Lalton village in Punjab, he realized the secret ingredient of his grandpa’s chicken recipe was worth its weight in pounds sterling. As he interviewed almost the entire village for the secret, everyone ended up having a point of view – Heeng? Kali mirch? Jeera? Imli? What?

During the search for the recipe, he had to contend with his own greed, an annoyed chacha, a madcap mama, a TV sadhvi, a sentimental cousin and a lover he had abandoned. And in between all these people, he eventually found Luv Shuv Tey Chicken Khurana.

The central premise of The Lunchbox is the fact that the largest amount of food in India gets consumed out of a dabba. And it is not only the office dabba.

Stanley Ka Dabba paid an affectionate ode to the humble school tiffin-box through a little boy (Partho Gupte) and his run-ins with a khadoos teacher (played by the film’s director, Amol Gupte who is also Partho’s father). The teacher demanded a share from every student’s dabba and Stanley not getting one was the reason for the run-in. The reason for the lack of Stanley’s dabba formed the crux of the story.

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

As The Lunchbox was all ready to go on a trip to LA, in came an unknown story from Gujarat and broke many hearts. Just as last week’s tribute was towards ‘food movies’, this week’s tribute is dedicated to The Good Road and ‘road movies’.

Bombay To Goa– India’s favourite leisure drive – was immortalized by a girl (Aruna Irani) escaping from gangsters out to kill her for witnessing a murder. She got on to a MP Travels bus bound for Goa and a lanky stranger who was following the girl also joined her in the bus and created such a ruckus that we still have his song buzzing in our ears. Dekha naa hai re…

Three friends took the same drive from Mumbai to Goa in a Mercedes convertible and made promises to make the same trip many times together. Farhan Akhtar made Dil Chahta Hai– which isn’t entirely about journeys – but it egged many people to get into a car and zip southwards from Bombay along the Konkan coast.

Pooja Bhatt ran away from home to marry her beau who was after her father’s money. She met a smartass reporter on the way. He helped her to get an exclusive. They fell in love. They got separated. Eventually, all got settled and the heiress ran away again – this time, with her new lover.

Dil Hai Ke Manta Nahin was a rip-off of Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night (which was also used to make Raj Kapoor-Nargis starrer Chori Chori).

Vivek Oberoi and Antara Mali eloped to avoid her father’s wrath in the first ‘official’ road movie of Bollywood – Road. Their plan was to get to Jodhpur, get married and get back to pacify the girl’s dad. This was seriously jeopardised by an increasingly demanding hitchhiker (Manoj Bajpai) and the search party sent out by the girl’s dad.

A business heir was trying to escape his unsuccessful life when he met a bubbly girl in Jab We Met. They started from Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus but they had missed the train at two successive stations, thus ending up spending a night at Hotel Decent. Soon they had shifted to state transport buses and singing songs before tripping into Kareena’s home in Bhatinda.

Two college-mates were looking for their best friend when a despicable batchmate landed up and claimed that he had found Rancho. Farhan and Raju immediately got into the car and during the drive, they remembered the great time they had as 3 Idiots.

But the man they met in Shimla wasn’t the man they were looking for. They got an address in Ladakh and zoomed off, ending their trip on the banks of Lake Pangong of Ladakh.

In Anjaana Anjaani , two strangers met while trying to commit suicide. After multiple attempts, they decided to have a twenty-day binge that would end with their suicides on 31^stDecember.

They drove from New York to Las Vegas in a classic red Ford Falcon and the drive became, literally, a song. They went from the snowy, windy climes (Priyanka in woolens) to the sunny, sultry weather (Priyanka in hot pants), giving lifts to all sorts of hitchhikers and their own moods.

A banker from London, a businessman from Mumbai and a copywriter from Delhi met in Barcelona for a pact made in college. The pact was that each would choose an adventure sport and the other two would participate unquestioningly. That was the trip they took in Spain for Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. The three friends went from Barcelona to Seville via Costa Brava in a sky-blue Convertible through scenic roads, with scenic girlfriends, in their super-scenic car.

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

This week, we look at the several occasions where a newcomer (only a few films old, if not the debutant) was given the role of an over-the-top villain in a lavishly mounted saga – often pitting him against established stars of the times. The unpredictability that a talented newcomer brings to a role probably overcame all the resistance in going with an unknown name.

The best example of this trend is obviously, Gabbar Singh in Sholay.

When the Sholay script was complete, it was unanimously agreed that the most pivotal character was going to be Gabbar Singh – the daku who was nothing like the on-screen dakus seen till then. For this role, Danny Denzongpa was signed on but he had to drop out because he had already committed to do Feroz Khan’s Dharmatma. Since none of the villains of the day fitted the bill, Ramesh Sippy decided to back a newcomer called Amjad Khan. Amjad had a strong grounding in theatre but there was much scepticism in pitting him against three of the country’s top actors. Amjad himself was very nervous about the role and the industry found his unusual voice to be unbecoming of a fearsome villain but the audience of Sholay thought otherwise. Gabbar Singh went on to become the most popular villain of all times, fearsome and magnetic. And the role turned Amjad Khan into one of the top villains (and later, character actors) of the industry.

Ramesh Sippy repeated the same trick in his next film, Shaan.

For what was going to be one of the most expensive films made till then, he chose Kulbhushan Kharbanda to be Shaakaal – a villain who seemed to have walked straight out of a Bond film, complete with island hideouts, pet crocodiles and ambitions of world domination. Kharbanda shaved off his hair and delivered sadistic lines with his customary clenched-teeth-relish (“Dheere dheere yeh zehreeli gyais...”). Prior to this, Kharbanda was only seen in arthouse cinema and this role brought him bang in the middle of Bollywood.

Like in Sholay, the villain was pitted against three top stars of the industry. Like in Sholay, he played a version of the Russian Roulette (with rotating chairs instead of rotating gun chambers). And poured untold misery on the entire cast. But somehow, the magic of Gabbar was missing. You could say it was the curse of Sholay that everything about Shaan was compared to its predecessor and found wanting. Shaakaal was no exception.

Kulbhushan Kharbanda did not do too many negative roles after this but became one of the better known character actors in mainstream and parallel cinema, a career that is still going strong.

It is somehow difficult to conceive that a character actor as well-recognised as Rajesh Vivek would have been a debutant at some point of time. He looks older than time itself!

But he was ‘introduced’ in Joshilaay as Jogi Thakur, yet another dacoit who went about killing people as if it was a game. The standard daku territory of Chambal ravines changed to the rugged terrains of Ladakh as Jogi Thakur was chased by the garrulous Sunny Deol and laconic Anil Kapoor – each having a different reason for getting to him.

Joshilaaywas written by Javed Akhtar – one of the men who created iconic villains like Gabbar and Shaakaal (who were also played by newcomers) – and the character of Jogi Thakur had the same crazy unpredictability that distinguished those characters. His flowing mane and imposing frame gave out a frisson of menace whenever he appeared on screen and it was a style which Vivek would borrow from several times in the future.

Rajesh Vivek’s innings in Bollywood has been a stellar one with important roles in films like Lagaan and Swades– which started as a mega-villain in Joshilaay.

When Rajkumar Santoshi made China Gate– his version of vigilantes-defending-villagers involving disgraced Army officers and a manic daaku, he borrowed a trick out of Sholaytoo. His villain – Jageera – was probably madder and more brutal than Gabbar and played by a rank newcomer, Mukesh Tiwari.

The actor with pitted against thespians like Om Puri, Naseeruddin Shah and Amrish Puri but he managed to come out with flying colours. His matted hair, unruly beard, stained teeth, dirty clothes and an eccentric diction were carefully cultivated over a significant period of time and the effort showed on screen. He got a lion’s share of the catchy dialogues (that won the award for Best Dialogue at Filmfare Awards) and was by far the most memorable character in an otherwise underwhelming film.

Mukesh Tiwari – after his bloodthirsty debut (“Mere man ko bhaya, main kutta kaatke khaya...”) – has transformed into a versatile character actor with successful comic (Vasooli in the Golmaalfranchise) and dramatic (Bachcha Yadav in Gangaajal) roles under his belt.

Post Satya, Manoj Bajpai’s stock was at an all-time high and his next film – Shool– received a lot of attention despite being a rather grim, low-budget take on the violent world of Bihari politics.

He played the upright police officer up against a corrupt system, which was represented by Bachchoo Yadav - an infuriatingly nasty politician. The role was played by Sayaji Shinde (in his first major role). His staccato dialogue delivery, manic laughter and crazily lurching eyes became a sort of a template for all ‘nasty neta’ roles in the near future. The character borrowed several traits from various real-life netas and created a solid impact, holding his own against Bajpai’s histrionics.

Sayaji Shinde became a regular in the supporting cast of Hindi as well as Marathi cinema, often repeating the Shool template of the nasty politician.

Priyadarshan – before his brainless comedy phase – has done some excellent dramatic films with moments of high entertainment. Gardish was one such film.

The villain of Gardish– the fearsome local don, Billa Jilani – was played by the hulking Mukesh Rishi, who had just appeared in a few bit parts till then. In Gardish, he was given a build-up like no other villain of recent times. His entry scene in the film was orchestrated to a crescendo as we kept seeing his villainous acts and their terrorized aftermath – but never himself. When he did – in a fight scene with hero, Jackie Shroff – ‘Billa’ had already arrived. Rishi’s towering frame was used to maximum effect as he dwarfed everyone in the vicinity and remained ominously soft-spoken throughout the movie.

Mukesh Rishi went on to become a major villain of the 1990s including the iconic Gunda(where he played Bulla, of ‘rakhta hoon main khulla’ fame). He even made a well-noticed detour into character roles by playing Inspector Salim in Sarfarosh.

It is not often that someone playing an out-and-out villain gets the Filmfare Award for Best Debut. In fact, it has happened only once – with Vidyut Jamwal for Force.

He played the younger brother of drug lord (played by Mukesh Rishi, of Gardishfame: see above) and managed to put up a very scary opposition to John Abraham and his cohorts. His sculpted body, deadpan expression and very slick action moves made him a worthy adversary to John’s police officer. As Vidyut took off shirts to John’s provocations (of also taking off shirts), he gave some serious competition to the other doyen of shirt-taking-off – Salman Khan.

While the movie did not do too well, Vidyut’s villainous turn was noticed and rewarded with awards for newcomers. He has kicked off his action-hero career in Bollywood with Force and has started to appear in heroic roles as well. After all, it would be a shame to waste those many abs on a villain!

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

Today, India’s biggest star and best actor turns 71. His versatility has been demonstrated in many ways and I look at it by looking at a few of the most popular professions he has played. Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy... what did he play the most?

Police Officer

This is a no-brainer. Amitabh Bachchan has been an upholder of justice (on the right side of the law) in nineteen stupendous films. The first time he played a police officer was in Zanjeer, which was something like Sachin Tendulkar scoring a 49-ball-82 the first time he opened. As Inspector Vijay Khanna, he took on villainous smugglers and large-hearted Pathan outlaws with a silent aggression, hitherto unseen in Hindi cinema.

After that, there was no looking back and he was a police officer in The Great Gambler, Ram Balram, Parvarish, Dostana, Barsaat Ki Ek Raat, Mahaan, Inquilaab, Geraftaar, Aakhree Raasta, Shahenshah, Indrajeet, Akayla, Insaniyat, Bade Miyan Chote Miyan, Aks, Khakee, Dev and Bunty Aur Babli.

Incidentally, five of these films have him playing at least one more role apart from being a police officer. In The Great Gambler, his twin was – well – a great gambler. In Mahaan, his twin was a comic actor and their father was a fugitive tycoon. In Aakhree Raastaa, the police officer was after his vengeance-seeking father. In Shahenshah, he was corrupt policeman by day and crime fighter by night. And in BMCM, his alter ego was a con-man causing many mistaken identities.

Surprisingly, he has last played a police officer in 2005 (Bunty Aur Babli) and we haven’t seen him in khaki ever since.

In Jagdeep’s Soorma Bhopali, he played a police officer in the guest appearance he did.

Armyman

Be it the domestic front, be it the country’s borders, a tall and earnest figure inspires confidence. Amitabh Bachchan is that inspiring figure that leads jawans to war and gives confidence to civilians.

He first played a jawan in Roti Kapada Aur Makaan– the patriotic paean, where the common soldier lost his arm for the cause of the motherland. From a jawan, he was promoted to Major Saabin his next Army outing as he went about disciplining cadets at the NDA. He was also a Major and prisoner of war in Pakistan in Deewaar: Let’s Bring Our Heroes Home. He got a promotion to become Colonel Damle in Lakshya (where he led forces in Kargil) and Col. Balbir Sodhi in Kohraam (where he rebelled and went after corrupt ministers). He was promoted yet again to become Major General Amarjeet Singh in Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Saathiyo, where his son and grandson followed his footsteps into the Army.

Apart from these active Army roles, he was referred to by ranks in Kaante(Yashvardhan ‘Major’ Rampal) and Ek Ajnabee (Col. Suryaveer Singh) suggesting Army antecedents there as well.

Criminal

If he upheld the law really well, he broke it with equal panache. Now, there are several shades to his unlawful activities.

He played an extra-constitutional power in Sarkar and Sarkar Raj (as well as Department) who did not think twice about breaking the law to uphold justice but the role was clearly heroic.

He was an out-and-out villain in Don while his role of an underworld boss in Boom was largely comical. He was supposed to have been a fearsome villain in Ram Gopal Verma Ki Aag but that film ended up making everything in it comical. He was a Mafia boss in Family: Ties of Blood as well though nobody noticed that film.

Different types of crime – without much seriousness – have been his calling in Bbuddah Hoga Tera Baap (a sharpshooter), Mr Natwarlal, Shaan, Do Aur Do Paanch, Bade Miyan Chhote Miyan (con-men), Sholay (petty criminal) and Kaalia(smuggler of indeterminate goods).

In two films, he has been a murderer on the run – Faraar and Aakhree Raastaa– but both were acts of righteous revenge.

Quite surprisingly, he has looted banks in two movies – Kaante and Aankhen– though the former was a more positive role while the latter had him as a complete villain. Probably his baddest role has been in Parwana, where he murdered a man and framed his rival for it – showing virtually no remorse till the very end.

His iconic anti-hero roles were, of course, Deewaar, Shakti and Agneepath– which are still the gold standards of anger in Indian cinema.

Poet / Author

If Vijay was Amitabh’s angry young avatar, Amit was his soft, sweet, poetic persona.

Most famously in Yash Chopra twin romances – Kabhi Kabhie and Silsila– Amitabh was a man of the arts. In the former, he was a poet whose stirring verses won him many admirers. In the latter, he was a playwright out to woo the world with his words.

Early in his career, he was an author in Bandhe Haath (in one of his two roles in the film) and a poet in Ek Nazar.

In the later part of his career, Baghban saw him become an author after he retired from his regular job and penned a brilliant novel that won him the Booker Prize.

He is no stranger to literary prizes since he won a prestigious one for his book in Anand. While the book was based on his diaries, he was also a poet in the film. Right from his college days (where girls were majorly impressed with his verses), he ended up contemplating death in the final scenes – Maut, tu ek kavita hai...

Doctor

Talking of Anand, we have to remember it for his most famous doctor role – the dour cancer specialist faced with the impending death of a patient, whose zest for life was infectious. The role pitted him against the reigning superstar, Rajesh Khanna, and he came up trumps in a silent but impactful role.

The doctor roles did not happen during his super-successful phase as he was required to fight and sing songs (not something medicos are usually called upon to do). It came back in Mrityudaata where he played an eccentric surgeon, who could operate only when he was deliriously drunk. (For the record, he soon transformed into a vigilante in the film and even managed to sing a song with Daler Mehndi while on the run from the police. As you can see, Dr Bachchan is called upon to fight and sing songs.)

He played an altruistic doctor in Armaan who wanted to build a hospital for the poor and passed on his dream to his son, Anil Kapoor. In Hum Kisi Se Kum Nahin, he was a psychiatrist who was entrusted with the task of treating Mafia don played by Sanjay Dutt – somewhat reminiscent of Analyse This (starring De Niro and Billy Crystal). In Aetbaar, he was the doctor father of Bipasha Basu but there was very little medical stuff in this tale of John Abraham stalking his daughter.

Professor / Teacher

With a voice and screen presence like that, Amitabh Bachchan is a shoo-in for the post of any teacher anywhere in the world.

He kicked off his teaching career with Chupke Chupke where he played a professor of Literature masquerading as a Botany professor, grappling between Julius Caesar and the functions of a corolla. Soon afterwards, he was a mild-mannered professor of Hindi in Kasme Vaade but most of his time was spent in breaking up fights of his belligerent younger brother, who was a student in the same colleges. After that, he was Master Dinanath in Desh Premee but he did very little teaching and was gainfully employed in maintaining communal harmony in the slum he was a resident of. (Master Dinanath became the name of his father in the classic, Agneepath.)

He made a solid impact when he played the principal of Gurukul in Mohabbatein, a stern disciplinarian who had to deal with a flower-throwing, poetry-spouting music teacher and three students not sold on to his concept of anusashan.

In two films, he played a Professor only by name. In one short film of Darna Zaroori Hai, he was Professor – visited by a student but their academics were disturbed by supernatural goings-on. In Teen Patti, he was a professor of mathematics who spent more time in casinos than classrooms trying out a ‘theory of probability’.

In two films, he was a true teacher. In Black, he was the eccentric, ill-tempered teacher of a triple-handicapped girl who showed her the light at the end of the tunnel. In Aarakshan, he was idealistic teacher who didn’t mind giving up his job and teaching needy students for free.

God

The final ‘profession’ in the list is a full-time job, which many aspire for but only Amitabh Bachchan can stake claim for being one.

In Hello Brother, Amitabh Bachchan did not make a physical appearance but was heard as a ‘Heavenly Voice’ who urged angel Salman Khan to come to heaven. The role became bigger with yet another Salman Khan-starrer, God Tussi Great Ho (a remake of Bruce Almighty) where Amitabh Bachchan was the God who let a madcap run his universe. In both films, he was the epitome of looks, philosophy and voice that convinces you of Amitabh Bachchan’s divinity.

Apart from being a religion-neutral God, he has also played Indra – the king of Hindu Gods – in Agni Varsha, a play in which Indra’s blessings were sorely required due to a drought threatening a village.

Ding dong o baby sing a song comes on the car stereo.
My mother breaks off mid-sentence from another conversation and says, "This fellow's son is about to join films."
I say, "Yeah, Tiger."
My mother says, "After Mithun's son, I am always scared about star son's debuts."
<pause>
Now, my mother changes track and says, "Amrish Puri became a top villain after this movie."
Me: "Yeah."
Mom: "Was Shakti before this or after?"
Me: "Shakti would be before."
Mom: "Yes, so Shakti and this would have made him into a star and after Mogambo, there was no looking back."
Me: "He did the Indiana Jones film also around the same time."
Mom (murmuring): "Pasha ki bhasha... Pasha ki bhasha..."

By this time, my wife has fallen asleep and my mother starts recounting - pretty much line by line - an interview of Biplab Chatterjee (a Bengali actor known for his negative roles) where he praised Amrish Puri and called him the only villain who could match up to Amitabh Bachchan.

Do me a favour. Check out Amrish Puri's filmography on IMDb and realise the Kya cool hain hum song was actually written for me and my mother.
And read this post. The phrase We are like this only was also written for us.

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

Joke of the day: Why did the Communist parties condemn Akshay Kumar’s latest movie? Because the Boss is always right!

Today’s theme is based on the latest movie from Action Kumar a.k.a. Khiladi Kumar a.k.a. the Boss. Who are the bosses of Bollywood?

Sujoy Ghosh’s debut film was a feature-length tribute to Sholay and the Boss. As two music-crazy ad guys went about writing copy for condoms, managing wives and mothers-in-law and practising for a music contest (called Jhankaar Beats), we were introduced to their Boss. The head of their ad agency was Vijayendra Ghatge. He wasn’t the Boss. Sanjay Suri’s wife was Juhi Chawla, a perfectly sweet woman. She wasn’t the Boss. His mother-in-law was a bossy, pain-in-the-ass. But she wasn’t the Boss either.

Boss kaun hain, maloom hain kya?

Oh come on, you know who the Boss is! He is the one who makes you listen to him. Riiii raaaaa tu ru tu ru tu ru tu ru tu ru tu ru...

Shah Rukh Khan was looking for a fast track to success. And he was prepared to be all sycophantic and shady about it. In short, he was saying Yes Bossevery step of the way.

In Aziz Mirza’s morality tale about a sleazy boss (Aditya Pancholi) out to sleep with a girl (Juhi Chawla) his subordinate is in love with, SRK was the young, upwardly mobile upstart torn between his boss and his love. Add to that a heart-patient mother, the boss’ wife and a superhit soundtrack by Jatin-Lalit to get a very popular film that took SRK to stardom.

Sleazy bosses looking for a bit of a sex on the side are not in short supply in Bollywood.

Kay Kay Menon in Life In A Metro was one such character, who was sleeping with Kangana Ranaut in his subordinate’s (Sharman Joshi) flat. The subordinate was happy to let out his flat for his superiors’ amorous adventures till he realised that he was in love with the girl who was coming in with the boss.

This twist is obviously the same as Billy Wilder’s classic film, The Apartment, though this is not the first time it has been used in Bollywood. Amitabh Bachchan starred in Raaste Ka Pattharin 1972, in which he also played the bachelor executive who let out his flat to his boss (Prem Chopra).

Not all bosses make out with your lady love though. (To be fair, most bosses don’t.) However, Bollywood bosses are shady if not sleazy.

In Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman, SRK was a junior architect who was coerced to cover up his firm’s incompetence by his firm’s big boss (Naveen Nischol) and his daughter (Amrita Singh), who seemed to have a soft corner for him. Aziz Mirza directed this morality tale which explored the favourite Bollywood theme of innocent hero losing his honesty in the big bad corporate world.

Abhishek Bachchan did a similar role, playing an upcoming executive in a media company owned by big boss (Jackie Shroff) and the voice of boss (Sushmita Sen). The name of the film was Boss Itna Sa Khwaab Hai. (Ahem.)

Bosses and secretaries are drawn to each other like a moth to flame.

In the definitive canon of this genre – Pati Patni Aur Woh– Sanjeev Kumar eschewed the charms of wife Vidya Sinha and tried getting cosy with secretary Ranjeeta, weaving an elaborate web of lies to garner sympathy, though not sex!

Hrishikesh Mukherjee borrowed the plot of Pati Patni Aur Woh for his comedy, Rang Birangi, in which Amol Palekar was the boss. He tried to bring in a spot of spice in his boring married life by wooing secretary Deepti Naval and repeating the same wooing techniques with wife Parveen Babi.

Basu Bhattacharya’s Griha Pravesh was a more serious take on the boss-secretary relationship as Sanjeev Kumar (yet again!) strayed from his seemingly happy marriage with Sharmila Tagore to seemingly fall in love with Sarika. The couple’s quest to buy a house for themselves hit a roadblock as Sarika wanted to enter her boss’ life formally while the boss was not completely sure if he wanted to let his family go.

As a tail-piece, it might be frivolously apt to invoke the abusive boss – DK – from Delhi Belly.

Okay, okay... you nitpickers can keep cribbing that he is actually a Bose and not really a Boss but we aren’t really writing a PhD thesis here, you know? This Boss is wildly popular in many parts of the Hindi heartland, his name is taken sometimes abusively, sometimes reverentially and by all accounts, the mention of his name is a sure-shot warning to take cover. Bad-ass boss, he is!

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

As Mickey hopes to go ‘viral’ today, it might be a good idea to look at the times Bollywood has used computers to catch thieves, impress women, get a job and kill villains. Bollywood has always been more partial to hand-pumps than hard-drives but here is a small selection from the history of computing in Bollywood.

The first time a computer was mentioned in Bollywood was way back in 1978 – in Trishul.

When Shashi Kapoor returned from abroad, he called Raakhee (his father’s super-efficient secretary) a ‘computer’ ek aisi machine jo har sawaal ka theek jawaab deti hai! Clearly, this ‘computer is always right’ notion was before GIGO (Garbage In Garbage Out) was coined. Rakhee’s ability to remember cement quotas, her boss’ appointments, design files – while remaining unflappable all the time – was the reason for the nickname.

The computer made a reasonably high-profile entry in a high-profile film, starring a Tam-Brahm engineer – Roja.

Arvind Swamy was the good boy (presumably a computer engineer from IIT) who had a computer at home, which was quite a big thing in 1992 when the movie released. He turned out to be a ‘cryptologist’ who was hired to crack codes in Kashmir and he did so with a computer which had wildly blinking signals on the screen. From his facial expressions, we didn’t know if he cracked the code because he retired to sing songs in the snow with his wife immediately afterwards.

Sooraj Barjatya’s films are full of heroines who start off ambitiously on the academic path before settling down in happy domesticity. In Maine Pyar Kiya, heroine Suman (Bhagyashree) stood first in her Inter(mediate) exams by scoring 87% but instead of attending college, became a house-guest at her father’s friend’s house.

In Hum Aapke Hain Koun, heroine Nisha (Madhuri Dixit) had moved with the times and was studying ‘Computers’ but no device was visible in her vicinity.

By the time, Sooraj Barjatya made his next film – Hum Saath Saath Hain– Alok Nath had graduated to tinkering with computers and staring at long sheets of dot-matrix printer output.

Probably the first online banking transaction in Bollywood happened in Ajnabee.

In typical Abbas-Mustan style, an elaborate cat-and-mouse game played out between Akshay Kumar and Bobby Deol as the former tried to make off with a fortune by framing the latter. The climax happened in a cruise ship and Bobby finally pulled a fast one by transferring back the $100 million Akshay had got as his dead wife’s insurance payout. How? Hacking was still some years away in Bollywood but smart ol’ Bobby just guessed the nineteen letter password. Everything was planned, you see.

Hacking came into age by the time Om Jai Jagdish was made in 2002 (the year after Ajnabee).

In Anupam Kher’s directorial debut, Abhishek Bachchan was the ‘ethical hacker’ who illegally entered his college’s website to leak exam papers for his friends. After he was rusticated for his troubles, he became a pizza delivery boy in Bangalore and tried for a job in India’s leading software film – Softcell Technology. By finding out who hacked the company’s website in 100 seconds, he got himself a deal to make anti-virus software. And in true Bollywood style, he named the software Om.

A Wednesdaywas full of gadgets we use in our daily lives that can be transformed into deadly weapons of terror with a bit of information from online tutorials. Terrorist (Naseeruddin Shah) used a combination of changing SIM cards and a laptop to create a web of fear. When the regular efforts by the police cyber cell failed, a cool dude – who turned out to be a college dropout – was brought into trace the calls being made. In an interesting shift of power, the heroic police force was left to do the brawny things (fighting, chasing, interrogating) while the young hacker did the delicate tech tinkering.

When the personal computer revolution reaches a peak, you need people to sell them. That was exactly what a shady computer company called AYS Corporation was doing. They were doing the standard computer industry practice of over-promising and under-delivering till Harpreet Singh Bedi joined them and questioned them all.

After a lot of software, Rocket Singh: Salesman Of The Year was about the computer hardware industry with its aggressive sales managers, porn-addicted maintenance guys and exasperated customers. The whole activity of closing a sale, assembling the order and delivering it was shown wonderfully well.

Computer games came to the forefront when geeky game designer – Shekhar Subramaniam – invented a super-villain called Ra.One. The game was created to please his gaming addict son, who went by the online name Lucifer and who could beat even the super-villain. But in a fantasy twist, the super-villain got livid at losing and came out of the game into the real world. All hell broke loose. Till a super-hero called G.One emerged out of the game as well.

Himesh Reshmaiyya starred in Radio as a RJ with Radio Mirchi, who was probably Hindi cinema’s first socially active character. As RJ Vivaan Shah, he chatted on Facebook while his less-enlightened colleagues were still figuring it out (‘Yaar, yeh Phesbuk hota kya hai?’). His relationship status was ‘complicated’. His listeners complained about boyfriends on porn sites. And he was supposed to be super-cool.

A more complicated take on Facebook happened in Mujhse Fraaandship Karoge, which poked a lot of fun at the practice of cyber-stalking and online-despogiri. What Bollywood sidekicks have been failing at since time immemorial – wooing heroines – suddenly became very easy with assumed online identities. A complicated love polygon ensued when people posed as each other on Facebook (or something like it) and fell in love with online avatars and out of love with offline ones!

A South Indian woman came to Kolkata to find her missing husband and landed up at the Kalighat Police Station to file a missing person report. The officers turned out to be grappling with the Kolkata Police Database software they had to install on the police station’s computer. When she saw them getting hassled by the beeping ‘System Error’ message, she effortlessly moved in and helped them out. Her knowledge of the computers would come handy later in the film when she had to extract some information clandestinely. After all, she was a software engineer just like her husband. Except her husband turned out nothing like what she had said.

And that was the Kahaani.

UPDATED TO ADD:

My friend Asha (also an acclaimed VO artist, who has worked in Dibakar Banerjee's Shanghai) has this to say: "All those fancy glowing and beeping buttons in Shaan and Mr India were computers too. Just that we did not know it then. And you deliberately missed the image of a CPU-hugging Emraan Hashmi running to safety in a riot-affected, curfew-declared wannabe-Shanghai?"

Whatay brilliant addition!

Read two interesting books on cinema in recent times. And wrote two reviews.

Read the reviews. Buy the books. Then *cough* buy my book also.

40 Retakes – Avijit Ghosh

Having been a lifelong sucker for lists myself, I feel a listmaker succeeds the moment someone disagrees with the list. It is a sure sign that the reader has gone through the list, processed the entries, thought about it a little and was then provoked to say, “WTF, how could he not include <insert name of cult classic>?”

Secondly, the whole point of a list is to put some sort of order to a relatively lesser discussed/known topic. Making a list of the Top 10 Amitabh Bachchan Films is an exercise in futility. What will you keep? What will you drop? And what additional perspective will you bring to Deewaar that everyone and their Rahim Chachas don’t know already? Making a list of – say – Amitabh Bachchan’s ten best guest appearances is a better idea. It is something everyone has a sense of but not complete knowledge. There is enough fodder to pick and choose ten, leaving out some. And you set up the stage for disagreement with a few passionate souls. [See above.]

Avijit Ghosh’s book – 40 Retakes: Hindi Film Classics You May Have Missed– meets both the above criteria with flying colours. Instead of going the route of 100 Bollywood Films and flogging Mother India, Mughal-e-Azam, Sholay, DDLJ to death, he has chosen to do forty films which should have been watched more. For many reasons ranging from poor promotion, poor timing, poor luck and poor box-office clout, these excellent films did not become huge hits. They did not become cult classics – in the truest sense of the word – either.

He tells us why he believes they deserved better – plot, performances and the hidden nuggets. He also tells us lots of inside dope, culled from interviews with stars, directors, technicians. It is easy to create nostalgia around known films. I think this book manages to create a fair amount of ‘pull’ towards unseen films. (It is unlikely you would have watched too many of them.)

Like any film fan worth his movie ticket, I believe several others like – for example – My Brother Nikhil, Oye Lucky Lucky Oye, Sooraj Ka Saatvan Ghoda, Drohkaal, Khoj, New Delhi Times should have been included... and we can debate this till eternity and beyond. The author can, of course, say the list is his. But of course, the right to disagree is entirely mine. But by fostering this disagreement, he has won his battle.

Overall, a delicious book that makes you trawl YouTube and order DVDs to catch up on some great films. I just hope 40 Retakes gets a wide audience and doesn’t become a missed classic among books on cinema.

Amar Akbar Anthony – Sidharth Bhatia

An entire book on one film is fraught with doubts.

Was there enough masala in the scenes so that a detailed narration of the plot doesn’t become boring? Or can the author bring out hidden facets to make it interesting? Was there enough drama behind the scenes to savour? Were the opinions of the film – typically appearing in diverse sources – interesting enough to make a story of their own? By placing the film in the social context it was made in, is there more drama?

And – to my mind – the most important factor: Does the author love – as in, LOVE – the film so that if the story falls short, the passion pulls through?

By ticking of all of the above boxes, Sidharth Bhatia, who had earlier written a book on Dev Anand’s Navketan Films, has done full justice to the Masala, the Madness and Manmohan Desai with his book on Amar Akbar Anthony.

When you choose a film like Amar Akbar Anthony to write a book on, you have won half the battle. And if you do a good job of it, you have won the remaining half and set yourself for a sequel really.

I couldn’t tell if the book has suffered from the fact that Manmohan Desai himself wasn’t there to recap the madness but his son – Ketan Desai – and his associates – Kadar Khan, for example – bring out his madness well. Manmohan Desai’s brand of filmmaking is described in vivid detail and – thankfully – there is no attempt to analyse it. How do you analyse madness really?

It also answers some questions many people would have about the film. Like, why did Amitabh Bachchan – then India’s biggest star by a long margin – allow himself to be beaten unconscious by his biggest rival? How did educated, logical people like Amitabh Bachchan, Vinod Khanna and Rishi Kapoor get in the mindset to film scenes that violate every laws of logic and physics?

And of course, there are the delicious anecdotes like the time Manmohan Desai overruled the views of the country’s biggest star in his most successful year and said, "Lalla, after the movie is released, whenever you walk down the street, people will call you Anthony."

The only crib about the book is that the book gets a major dialogue – probably the movie’s best – wrong. The correct dialogue is “Aisa toh aadmi doich time bhagta hai. Olympic ka race ho ya police ka case ho...” But that is a minor blemish in an otherwise memorable effort.

I have never written about advertising and marketing on this blog. Since my day job involves an overdose of both, I try not to delve on those topics outside office. But the excitement over the new Google ad became so much that I am now scared they will revoke my diploma if I don’t write on it.

For the benefit of Mr Van Winkle, here is the ad.

This ad got 5 million views in the week since it launched. To give you a perspective, the official Ram-Leela trailer got 7.7 million views in two months. The ad was also the subject of hectic discussions on authenticity of the Lahori accent of the characters and #AlternateGoogleAd was a hilarious rage on Twitter. In terms of emotional impact, it was a triumph.

My interest in the ad was somewhat academic (and prosaic). Like any real-life Marketing Manager, my first question is usually: “Objective kya hain?” That is, what did the ad set out to do?

You see, whatever I recall from my Marketing classes from fifteen years back is that advertising is supposed to bring about a change. A change in action (“go out and buy Axe”) or thought (“Hitting women is a bad idea”).

I am unclear as to what the objective of this ad is. Get people to use (more) Google? Get them to check flight timings and weather on Google? Think Google is a cool brand? Love Google?

There was an outpouring of love for Google after the ad but the love was always there. This ad just provided an occasion to demonstrate it. Purely from a business point of view (and that should be done because Google’s business in India is still fledgling compared to, say, Unilever’s), is just a show-your-love ad justified?

People who are on the ‘net use Google. This is not restricted to young people only. Working professionals of a wide age group – because they have access – use and are now familiar with the ‘net and Google.

The only group of people who are somewhat less familiar with Google are older people and women. For the former, it is a question of familiarity since they spent a large part of their lives without knowing about computers. For women in a male-dominated society, it is a matter of access.

This begs the question why did the ad not show the old grandpas doing on Google what their grandchildren were doing. Grandfather remembers childhood friend in Lahore, goes on Google, locates him, calls his grandson and gets him over. I am sure O&M would have figured out a way to keep some surprise element for the emotional high at the end.

Incidentally, a Vodafone ad showed how their 3G internet services are ‘made for the young’.

Just showing two youngsters using lots of Google services was somewhat obvious, I thought. Of course, the huge positive outburst was a great win for the brand but I doubt if people started using Google more after this ad.

Even the shorter follow-up ads showed the grandfathers as helpless Luddites who depended on someone else using Google to answer their questions. Again, a wasted opportunity – in my humble opinion.

Google has always focused on increasing the penetration of internet usage. For example, it organises an annual shopping festival – Great Online Shopping Festival (GOSF) – where the stated aim is to get people to start shopping online. Google is not into e-commerce but it does GOSF because it has figured out that if people spend more time (and money) online, they are more likely to click on ads and if they click on more ads, Google will make more money.

Wonder why they didn't follow the same principle for their 'brand campaign'?

Which brings me to a brilliant Google initiative that – I hope – you will hear a lot of.

Helping Women Go Online (HWGO) is a guide for women to start using the ‘net. It starts from using a computer and goes on email, chatting, watching videos and all sorts of things we take for granted but our mothers are in need of. They even have a helpline number, for those who feel comfortable talking.

And how will they promote HWGO?

Through ads – which will actually help people change what they think (“Internet has tons of useful stuff and is very easy to use”) and do (“Let me log on”). These ads, I believe, will actually go some way in changing the internet landscape of India.

And that is something I expect Google to do and leave Partition stories to MS Sathyu. (Oh wait...)

Watch the ads here, here and here.

These ads don’t have the emotional kick of an India-Pakistan reunion but I recognised my mother in one of them. Didn’t you?

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

As Ranveer Singh proceeds to earn eternal hatred of Indian men by wrapping himself around Deepika Padukone in hundreds of cinemas this week, we look at some of his illustrious predecessors. Who are the most famous Rams of Bollywood?

Dilip Kumar was Ram. Dilip Kumar was also Shyam. Actually, Dilip Kumar was Ram Aur Shyam– the favourite Bollywood formula of twins growing up to be as differently as chalk and cheese. As Ram, Yusuf-saab was the docile brother whipped to a pulp by Pran while Shyam Rao was the flamboyant avatar where he was about to give back a few of the lashes.

After the comic brilliance of Chupke Chupke and the action extravaganza that was Sholay, Dharmendra and Amitabh Bachchan came together as Ram Balram (respectively). This was Deewaar with a twist as Ram became a smuggler’s henchman and Balram became a police officer – with none of the original intensity. Ram sang hit songs with Balram (Ek rasta do rahee) in traditions of Jai-Veeru. He fought with Balram in traditions of Vijay-Ravi. And then reunited with their mother in traditions of Amar Akbar Anthony.

Rajesh Khanna was not only Ram but his incarnation in Aaj Ka MLA Ram Avtar. A satire on the Indian political system, Ram Avtar was a politician’s barber who was made to stand in an election and who became the MLA despite all odds. Rajesh Khanna was the bemused barber who was everyone’s favourite till he won the election. Then, he became a corrupt bastard. Now, where have I heard this story before?

Amitabh Bachchan was Dr Ramprasad Ghayal in Mrityudaata– the surgeon who could only operate when he was stone drunk! In his comeback film produced by his own company, Amitabh acted in one of his worst written roles of his career. And just in case, we didn’t get the Ramayan connection, his wife (Dimple Kapadia) was called Janaki and his brother (Arbaaz Khan) was called Bharat.

Following the footsteps of Dilip Kumar, Dharmendra and Amitabh Bachchan, SRK also became Ram. Ram Jaane, to be exact.

As a foundling orphan child, he asked a saintly soul what his name was. When he philosophically said, “Ram jaane” (God knows), he took that on as his name. As he went on to become a small-time criminal, he started wearing suits without shirts (ugh!), romancing Juhi Chawla and singing a ‘title song’ around his name (Kehte hain log mujhe Ram Jaane…).

While Anil Kapoor was the bigger draw in the Subhash Ghai blockbuster, Jackie Shroff was the opening name of Ram Lakhan– Inspector Ram Pratap Singh. While Anil Kapoor pranced around singing the hit My name is Lakhan, Jackie also had a (lesser known) song – O Ramji, bada dukh dina tere Lakhan ne– sung for him. And like to the original hero, he was the brave, virtuous one.

Aamir Khan was a Ram – Ram Shankar Nikumbh – in his directorial debut, Taare Zameen Par. As the Art teacher who had a special knack for understanding children and their weaknesses – not to mention their strengths – he was an unusual character with an unusual name. His first name did not feature too much in the film as his colleagues and students called him by his surname.

Arguably, the funniest Ram in Hindi cinema is Ram Prasad Sharma of Gol Maal. His father was also Dasrath Prasad Sharma, as he never failed to remind us. He also had a brother called Laxman Prasad Sharma, who fell in love with a girl whose name was (mythologically appropriate) Urmila.

One second, he had a brother? Well yes, a happy-go-lucky chap who went by his nickname Lucky.

Are you sure about the brother? Well, it is a long story then…

Ram Prasad Sharma and Laxman Prasad Sharma reappeared recently as Major Ram and Lucky (pronounced Luck-hey!) in Farah Khan’s Main Hoon Na. Paying a tribute to the Hrishikesh Mukherjee original, the director borrowed the classic names and gave them a modern twist.

Not all Rams of the titles are present in the film.

Ram Teri Ganga Maili borrowed its title from the plaintive cry of a saint who cried out to Ramakrishna Paramhans about the Ganga that flowed by his ashram. The Ram in the title was not physically there in the film but by naming the hero Naren (Rajeev Kapoor), the director ensured a spiritual presence. Ramakrishna’s most famous disciple was Swami Vivekanand, who birth name was Naren.

And the final name in the list is not a Ram.

In Andaz Apna Apna, Amar (Aamir Khan) consoled Prem (Salman Khan) with a quart of rum and said it was the best companion for a broken heart. “Gham ka saathi rum”, he said. Devout people would say, “Gham ka saathi Ram” is also true!

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

Having looked at heroes, heroines and character actors of new films in this column, we change track this week and look at the producer. This is an easy thing to do since the producer is as articulate, good-looking and glamourous as some of the stars in Bollywood. And we look at just that… the times Karan Johar was in front of the camera instead of being behind it.

Karan Johar’s acting career started on television, in a series called Indradhanush. He used his chubby, goofy looks to great effect in a comic role among a bunch of teenagers. The TV series was a sci-fi story where a precocious youngster started out to build a computer and ended up with a time machine instead. Karan played a schoolboy who offered potato wafers when ‘chips’ were required for the computer and landed up in pre-independence India thanks to the time machine.

Karan Johar’s big-screen debut was not only auspicious but explosive. His name is part of the acting credits of the longest-running film in Bollywood history. Unofficially, he was also an assistant to the director Aditya Chopra in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge though he got noticed as SRK’s bumbling friend, Rocky. Wearing geek glasses and a mop of unruly hair, he did a fab job in that standard Bollywood role of ‘hero’s friend’. He did an even better job of convincing SRK to act in his directorial debut.

The ‘Karan Johar film’ has become the new touchstone of success in Bollywood and having been in one assures sure-shot stardom and regular presence in Page 3 parties.

Vivek Oberoi played a newspaper columnist-cum-screenwriter in Sujoy Ghosh’s Home Delivery (Aapko… Ghar Tak), who was trying to write a script for a Karan Johar film – a Holy Grail that would take him to success and – maybe – happiness.

As Vivek Oberoi juggled his many priorities and whooshing deadlines, Karan kept popping up at regular intervals enquiring about the script (or not).

It went one step better in Salaam-e-Ishq.

Here Priyanka Chopra played ‘item girl’ Kamini who was looking to hit big-time with a role in a Karan Johar film. To do it, she did what starlets in Bollywood keep on doing… created a fictional affair. She claimed to be madly in love with a fictional character called Rahul, hoping the furore over her affair would cause the director to notice her. What she hadn’t bargained for a real Rahul landing up at her doorstep and proposing to her at the exact moment when she received a call from Karan Johar.

You could say this entry is a bit of a cheating since K Jo never ‘appeared’ but was only heard on the phone.

As time went by, the star aspiring for a role in a Karan Johar film became bigger and bigger.

In Luck By Chance, Hrithik Roshan played Zafar Khan – the star who wanted to become a superstar with a K Jo film. To do the role, Zafar did a series of shady moves to wriggle out of a film he was committed to do – leaving a producer (Rishi Kapoor) in the lurch. Towards the end of the film, Karan Johar appeared as himself – as something like the voice of conscience – and told how his machinations had left the door open for a young competitor (Farhan Akhtar) to come in.

After being the aspirational director in so many films, Karan Johar appeared on-screen as his other popular avatar – the awards show host.

In Farah Khan’s Om Shanti Om, he was the presenter at the Filmfare Awards ceremony and delivered a cool pun to kick off the proceedings: “Kehte hain heere ki kadar johri karta hai. Par hero ki kadar toh Johar hi karta hai.” As the laughter died away, he announced the nominees for the Best Actor category and then introduced Subhash Ghai and Rishi Kapoor to give away the prize. Just like real life.

And just like real life, his favourite actor won the prize!

It looks like his biggest role is going to be Anurag Kashyap’s Bombay Velvet. In this saga about how Bombay became Mumbai, Karan Johar is playing a Parsi tabloid editor said to be based on the flamboyant Rusi Karanjia of Blitz. The much-touted character supposedly has negative shades or is an out-and-out negative one, depending on which site you read about it. Having lost ten kilos and charged only eleven rupees for the role, Karan has completed one schedule of the film and fans are looking forward to the film’s December 2014 release.

My Yahoo! Movies column, first published here.

As Bullett Raja kick-starts its ride across cinemas today, it is just the right time to look at the cool bikes of Bollywood. Two-wheels have always been the choice of cool people in Hindi cinema. Here are some of the best.

One of the most famous bikes of Bollywood doesn’t have two wheels. When small-time crooks Jai and Veeru escaped with someone’s bike, they got a side-car free. Riding the bike (licence plate MYB 3047), they zoomed across highways and sang a happy song. Within the song, they managed to steal a cap, lose the side-car, try to put line on a girl and convince us of their friendship.

Many years later, the real-life Jai and Veeru’s sons – Abhishek Bachchan and Bobby Deol – reprised the scene with yet another bike-with-a-sidecar, for a film called Jhoom Barabar Jhoom. Everyone agreed classics shouldn’t be messed with.

Reprises – especially with the same set of stars or their offspring – are loved by audiences and filmmakers alike.

Forty years ago, a young pair – Rishi Kapoor and Dimple Kapadia – acted in a teeny-bopper romance called Bobby in which the hero took his girl around in a cool new bike. While the bike looks a little clunky now, it was the cool thing at that time.

Thirty years later, the same pair acted as two oldies falling in love again and this time also, they left their sedans and convertibles in favour of a cruiser bike. They bike was way cooler than the original as were the leading pair.

The most exhilarating bike sequence in Bollywood is when a poor orphan is urged by a fakir to forget his sorrows and laugh out loud. As the sound of his laughter grew louder, the scene changed from his dark childhood to the bright seaside roads of Bombay. The music reached a crescendo when Sikandar zoomed on to Marine Drive on his bike, singing Rote hue aate hain sab, hasta hua jo jayega... Amitabh Bachchan was super-handsome and the peak of his stardom when Muqaddar Ka Sikandar released and this bike-song went up a few notches because of his charisma.

Bikes got a starring role when a ruffian tried to reform and got a job in a bike factory. The film was Hero and the ruffian was Jackie Shroff in his first leading role.

In an early form of product placement, Jackie dada worked in the Rajdoot factory and was inordinately proud of the ‘best bike in India’. He picked fights with NRIs who thought Indian bikes weren’t good enough and finally, participated in a bike race where the irresistible Jackie and Rajdoot combo beat the Jimmy Thapa (Shakti Kapoor) and Honda combo with panache.

You see, all bikes don’t win races and roar into life at the flick of a key. Sometimes, they have to kicked and cajoled to start. And sometimes, they don’t start at all. Especially if you are a poor Delhi University student, living from money order to money order.

Sai Paranjpye’s classic Chashme Buddoor had three friends – Siddharth, Jomo and Omi – and with Jomo’s recalcitrant bike, they formed an unlikely quartet. The bike was used to pick up girls at the drop of a hat though it stopped running, also at the drop of a hat. Except when the three friends had to sing a song, the bike worked just fine and the trio threw caution and helmets to the winds as they rode their steed with gay abandon in the open streets of 1980s Delhi.

As a famous two-wheeler ad asks, why should boys have all the fun?

In Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, Katrina Kaif picked up her friend’s motorcycle and helmet to race after the man she realised she was in love with. Hrithik Roshan got the most pleasant surprise of his life when the devastatingly good-looking Kat came up to his car in a bike, took off the helmet nonchalantly and smooched the hell out of him.

In Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, it was Anushka Sharma’s turn to snatch a super-bike from her wimpy companion and get into a duel with a biker gang. She looked super-cool as the salwar-kameez-wearing Punjabi kudi who blazed around on a super-bike. Her companion hung on for dear life.

When Anushka revved her bike, the background music was from another film from the same production house – Dhoom.

The Dhoom series is all about fast women, faster cars and fastest bikes. It started with the first film where the whole heist was dependent on nitrogen-fuelled super-bikes zooming down Mumbai’s Western Express highway. And in the forthcoming Dhoom 3, Aamir Khan is another super-thief who is about to zip off on a bike and even slipping an inch away from a mega-truck. It keeps getting bigger and faster.

In the recent past, action superstar Jean Claude Van Damme performed an amazing stunt in an ad for Volvo trucks that has gone ‘viral’ with vengeance.

What we tend to forget is that the origin of the stunt happened in our very own Bollywood. Nearly twenty years ago, Ajay Devgn made his debut in an action-romantic-thriller called Phool Aur Kaante where he made his appearance standing on two bikes and doing a split even more amazing than Van Damme’s.

You see, bikes and Bollywood are just made for each other!

If you have a blog and you don't compile a Best of Year list, they revoke your account, report you to the nearest police station and send you a DVD of Neal 'n' Nikki. Now, much as I am a fan of Uday Chopra, I don't think I can do without a blog. Hence, here goes...

My lists of some of my favourite things of the year. They are not the best. They are not the most popular. They are simply the ones I felt happiest after reading.

Books

Last year (2012), I promised myself that I would read 48 books and ended up reading less than 30. This year, I took a GoodReads Challenge of 52 books and I am happy to report a 110% achievement. (All my ex-bosses are muttering under their breath, "Saale ne sales target toh kabhi kiya nahin tha...")

Okay, all you pedants - the GoodReads list shows only 51 books because six books (and some very good ones too!) are not listed on the site yet.

From the many worthies, here are my favourite five books of the year. (Cheated a bit to sneak one extra one in.)

5. Behind The Silicon Mask - Eshwar Sundaresan

A great thriller, set in Milwaukee where a serial killer is targeting immigrants while a group of Indian software engineers go about their daily life. Edge-of-the-seat tension and very real views of the techie life in USA merge seamlessly to create a very strong debut novel. And oh - the real life parallels of the software company and its founder are very amusing.

5. Bongpen - Tanmay Mukherjee

His blog, his Twitter feed are to my regular corporate life what a dab of Boroline is to the cheek after a rough shave. This book is a slim one - a collection of some of the best pieces from his blog, with some new material added on. It is a delightful, keep-on-the-bedside-table-read-when-you-feel-like book. I hope to read a lot more of Tanmay in the coming years, online and offline.

4. Hatching Twitter - Nick Bilton

Hatching Twitter is a thrilling read as well as an informative one. Midway through it, I realised that of the four founders, one was a lot like me. When I was almost through, I realised the founder I was rooting for was not the one who was similar to me. I have read (and hated) many business/self-improvement books but none of them pointed out my own shortcomings as well as this one did.

Also, I got to know that two of my favourite websites - Blogger and Twitter - were incubated by the same person's company. Ev Williams, you are my hero.

3. Flashback - Avijit Ghosh, Srijana Mitra Das, Sharmistha Gooptu

A compilation of the various articles on cinema from The Times Of India, this book is a great archive with a great perspective. From Tanuja to Tanisha, from Rajinikanth to Uttam Kumar, from Raj Kapoor to Ranbir Kapoor, it has it all and it is luscious.

(And compiled by three Bengalis, FTW!)

2. In the Company of a Poet - Nasreen Munni Kabir & Gulzar

When Gulzar stars talking to a film historian on his life and times, you just pray the conversation never ends. Gulzar talks about his films, his lyrics, his life, his father, his daughter with the clarity and sensitivity we have become accustomed to.

1. The Cuckoo's Calling - Robert Galbraith

An one-legged detective, recovering from a bad relationship. An assistant whose fiance doesn't want her to waste her time with the detective. A supermodel dabbling in sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. And the supermodel's dysfunctional family. One second, this is a detective novel - you said? Well, it is. And if you haven't read it already, you must do so right now.

Cinema

This was a relatively lean year for me at the movies though I liked pretty much everything I saw. I even enjoyed watching my son watching Chennai Express. But the films I just loved this year are:

5. Raanjhanaa

Kill me, sue me, ex-communicate me. But I enjoyed this trivial tale of romance and retribution just too much. Maybe it was Banaras. Maybe it was the East UP panache. Maybe it was AR Rehman's soaring music. Maybe it was the heroine who was also the villain. Maybe it was Dhanush.

Why I loved Raanjhanaa was illogical but then, that's what love is all about.

4. Fukrey

This has got to be the most under-rated of 2013's films. I feel that Fukrey is going to be a cult film of the generation, for the oh-so-real people who populated its script. Four wastrels trying to leak exam papers and play roadside matka games touched a chord because I knew these guys. Unlike the lead characters of Raanjhana whom I didn't know, I had met each of the lead characters of Fukrey. Who knows, I might have been one of them even.

3. Bombay Talkies

When four - okay, three - of my favourite filmmakers got together to make a film celebrating hundred years of cinema, I had mentally placed this at the number one slot anyway. It did not turn out to be as fantabulous as I hoped but it was a wonderful piece of memorabilia anyway.

And Dibakar Banerjee's film is the best short film in the history of Hindi cinema. I will kill you if you disagree.

2. The Lunchbox

If I told you in Jan 2013 that in a film starring Irrfan and Nawazuddin Siddiqui, the best performance will be by a newcomer, you would have laughed - right? But Nimrat Kaur - sigh.

There are so many people punching logical holes in The Lunchbox and generally agreeing that it is not Oscar material. But fellow 90s fans, pause and tell me this - if the hero's name is Saajan and you are the director, what song would you choose for the soundtrack? Yes, correct.

And Nimrat Kaur - sigh.

1. Kai Po Che

After a lot of deliberations, I realised this is the film I loved the most while watching and would love to watch the maximum times in the coming years. The setting was perfect. The friends were perfect. The soundtrack - oh, the soundtrack - was perfect. And as realists cribbed, even the ending was perfect. But what would you rather see? Rioters being given clean chits and Muslim boys getting slaughtered in riots?

Overall, 2013 turned out to be decent for me.

Apart from work, I managed to meet a lot of cool people, do a lot of cool stuff - much of which will hopefully be presented to you in the not-so-distant future. That means, 2014 is also looking quite good and hopeful too. And in these troubled times, that is never a bad thing.

Wish all of you a great 2014!

Over the last few years, we seem to be losing many more of our cinema's stalwarts than normal. We have lost great directors, huge stars, superb craftsmen - brilliant talents all. But then, we RIP them on Twitter and move on. Hence, I was quite surprised at the sadness I felt when I heard about Farooque Shaikh's passing. Here was an actor who acted in very few films by Hindi cinema standards. Not even sixty films in forty years. That probably gives him one of the highest memorable/forgettable ratios among actors.

I wanted to write a tribute but then decided it is far better to just compile some of the best tributes that others have paid him. And just as I had imagined, he seemed to be exactly like his on-screen persona in real life as well.

First up is a wonderful illustration as tribute by Jayanto, the cartoonist for Hindustan Times.

The Indian Express reported how he had been funding the education of a 26/11 victim's children - anonymously. He simply called up the newspaper's office after reading a story and picked up the tab, just like that.

Jai Arjun Singh wrote about his short interaction with him, about his unfailing politeness and his charming self-deprecation.

Sukanya Verma confessed to being a fan-girl for never giving a bad performance and for being sweet even in queues for popcorn!

Shubra Gupta recounted the joys of his polite SMSes and brilliant filmography, thus giving a lovely picture of his reel and real lives being very similar.

Varun Grover remembered the life lesson Farooque Shaikh gave him - mangoes are not gold coins!

Shabana Azmi - his co-star, friend and college-mate - presented a beautiful picture of their careers together right from their days in St Xavier's Mumbai till the last performance of Tumhari Amrita.

And probably the best tribute to the man was written ten years back. It called him the 'Invisible Man' and described his roles quite brilliantly. Thus:

Where Shaikh differed from the Oms and the Naseers was that they had the unwashed, lean and hungry look, while Shaikh, at all times, looked like he had access to a good launderette and that, no matter how grave the crisis, he wasn’t going to skip lunch.

Just the kind of person anyone would love to have as a friend.

The epithet of the title has been taken from a tweet by Greatbong. Most apt.

After the bestselling success of Just Married Please Excuse, Yashodhara (Lal) has now taken it on herself to sort out a much-harried-not-so-married toilet cleaner salesman – Sid. And she has asked: why would I like to read the book? Because I liked JMPE, I ventured tentatively? Apparently, that was not the right answer. Why does Sid sound interesting to you, she asked.

And that’s what this post all about... I take a look at some of the famous Sids of Bollywood and see what makes them interesting.

Statutory Warning: There are very few prominent Sids in Bollywood. So, we will have to make do with a lot of Siddharths.

The first Sid - naturally - has to be the wastrel who couldn’t pass exams or hold down even simple jobs (at his father’s company!). Wake Up Sid was the final nail in the larger-than-life Bollywood hero’s coffin. Fighting off goons, he didn’t do – but Sid was courageous enough to strike out on his own and become a photographer in a classy Bombay – sorry, Mumbai – magazine. You know the type whose retweets are higher than the copies sold. But Sid’s talent was evident in the manner in which he saw the city he loved and hey, anything is better than selling toilet fittings. (Yes, that’s what Sid’s family business was all about.)

Nearly forty years before Ranbir Kapoor became Sid, his grand-uncle also played Sid – who also renounced the path of riches.

Before he became Gautam (or frivolously, when Buddha was a chhokra), the original proponent of the middle path was Siddhartha. Herman Hesse wrote a philosophical treatise on him, which Conrad Rooks promptly made into a film. This firang-fest became full-on Bollywood when Shashi Kapoor was called in to play the title role. Many eyebrows (and other things) were raised when Simi Garewal appeared topless in what is pretty much the scene that defines the film in India. [Go and search for the scene yourself, you pervert. I am not linking it here.]

Additional Trivia: Hemanta Mukherjee composed the music and Shashi’s son – Kunal – played his son in the movie.

Another Sid was artist Siddharth Sinha of Dil Chahta Hai.
Akshaye Khanna was the sensitive yet strong artist whose brushstrokes were as bold as his choices, his choice of career was as unconventional as his worldview. A single mother's son, he fell in love with a much older woman and did not mind taking on his best friend when he spoke of her disrespectfully. Farhan Akhtar redefined cool with his debut film and we suddenly found ourselves on big screen. And like in most friend circles, there was always one guy who was sketching the others on paper napkins. That guy was Sid.

Dr Siddharth Sinha was a doctor who wanted to build a state-of-the-art hospital for children and passed on his Armaan to his son, Akash.

Amitabh Bachchan played the only Siddharth of his career as the silver-haired, golden-hearted doctor who died trying to save a child and then his son had to marry a shrew to fulfil his last wish. Amitabh Bachchan’s customary thoroughness was on display throughout the film as the lovable doctor in a good-natured film, which was a bit too slow.

After being a Siddharth’s son in Armaan, Anil Kapoor almost became a Siddharth’s father in Parinda.

After Anil Kapoor and Madhuri Dixit completed their famous lovemaking scene (shrouded in white satin sheets, lit in blue) in the film, his post-coital pronouncement was his son’s name and his ambition for the unborn child: “Siddharth... woh iss duniya mein shanti layega...”

For having such unrealistic ambitions for his child and putting undue pressure on what was theoretically not even a foetus, he was shot repeatedly by Nana Patekar. The bad news was that even Siddharth perished in the crossfire.

Q: Which three-word proposal did Siddharth Marathe make to Alisha Mafatlal in 1998?

Mr Marathe a.k.a. Sidhu was a neighbourhood-tough-wannabe-boxer who was Maharashtra Tourism’s most famous brand ambassador when he asked “Aati kya Khandala?”

The only Sid(hu) in Aamir Khan’s career was in Vikram Bhatt’s Ghulam, a Bollywoodised version of On The Waterfront for which Aamir Khan did not bathe for the week when he was shooting the climax. Sidhu got into fisticuffs even outside the ring, thought nothing of climbing a skyscraper to meet his girlfriend, ran straight into incoming local trains and decided to become a hero when his father ceased to be one.

Which brings me to my favourite Siddharth – Siddharth Parashar of Chashme Buddoor.

Farooque Shaikh played the wonderful Economics student who put pictures of Gandhi on his wall and smoked only so that he could give it up when a pretty girl requested him. And a girl did request him soon enough and they had a delightfully real love story before his roommates messed it up. As the quintessential Delhi University student living on money orders, books borrowed from professors and cigarettes bought on his ‘khaata’, he remained endearing throughout the film. Even after he got a job in a company run by the aforesaid pretty girl’s father. Good guys don’t finish last, you see.

Relevant Trivia Alert: The SRK has never played a Siddharth yet though the other SRK (the one married to Vidya Balan) is a Siddharth.

So, the picture of Sid I have in my mind is someone who is quite sweet though a little tongue-tied and awkward with people (especially with girls). He is the type who would be a studious sort of chap in college but not averse to hanging out with some of the wastrels. In the corporate world, he would be the one trying to question conventional wisdom and could be taking a stand. He would also get frustrated with silly things happening around him and would want to quit the corporate rat race. And become a photographer, or something like that.

Sounds like an interesting sort of chap!

So, what are you waiting for? BuySorting Out Sid and see if my predictions of Sid have come true.

As Narendra Modi cranks up the frequent flier miles on the campaign trail, his ecstatic fans are already sounding the victory bugle all over the internet. That they are doing it in their characteristic abrasive style is also the cause of much lamentation among the people who usually get to write newspaper columns. Thanks to some of Mr Modi’s more enthusiastic supporters, his campaign has got shots of (unintentional?) humour – much needed in these serious times.

Here are five examples of ‘fan-art’ from his supporters, gleaned from the wondrous, cavernous folds of the Internet.

Needless to say, it can be convincingly argued that some of them may have actually been created by Mr Modi’s detractors. I – myself – believe that these are indeed made by his die-hard fans, probably because I see sincerity instead of cynicism in all of them. But hey, it could be just me!

NaMo + Momo = National Intergration

To take on AAP and their cavalier treatment of Ugandan women and to highlight the death of a Mizo student in Delhi while AAP was in power, Narendra Modi met up with students from North East. And his PR cell promptly reduced the meeting into a popular Bollywood-style stereotype.

“Momo bechne walon ke saath NaMo hai...”was the rousing line with the message ended – banishing the articulate, erudite, good-looking population of North East to the roadside momo stall in one fell swoop.

Oh – they also added Sushma Swaraj’s ‘flat-nose-sharp-nose’ sauce, just in case you thought the momo was too bland!

Tit For Tattoo

What you want written on the soul, you tattoo – Old Jungle Saying.

And so you have this young girl who has tattooed a gigantic face of Mr Modi on her entire back and his PR machinery clearly sees this as an example of her ‘deewangi’. I am hoping for the girl’s sake that this is Photoshopped. Can you imagine the plight of her fellow dandiya dancers if she is wearing a backless choli and Namo peeps out in ‘Big Brother is watching you’ style? And of course, slightly imaginative positions during coitus are a strict no-no!

Am I the only one who thinks NaMo looks a bit like Osama in the tattoo, especially with the white t-shirt looking like an Afghan turban on him?

Let A Thousand Flowers Bloom

Meghna Patel threw caution (and her clothes) to the wind as she posed nude* (terms & conditions apply) on a carpet of lotuses – only with a poster of Mr Modi for company. Ever since Ms Poonam Pandey pioneered the concept of ‘stripping as reward’, several starlets have followed her on the disrobed path. But this was something new.

‘Nude for NaMo’ was announced as an incentive or reward. What was Ms Patel saying? Vote for NaMo and I will throw away the lotuses? I don’t want a Hand to touch me? What?

Either way, she was reprimanded by a BJP official for doing something that was – you guessed it – alien to Indian culture.

[On his birthday, Mr Modi was wished by Mallika Sherawat on national television through what was clearly the most execrable performance of the ‘Happy Birthday’ song ever. I am not including that in my list since it was a promotion of Ms Sherawat’s forthcoming TV show and not a Modi campaign message. Masochists, click here.]

Monkey Shakti, Tan Ki Shakti

While monkeys are our ancestors in a distant sort of way, we always refer to them in a negative way. All through my childhood, the word “Bnador” – in Bengali – is always reserved for the naughtiest kids and other cultures are no different. Therefore, the mind boggled when his PR cell compared Mr Modi to a monkey. On closer inspection, one realised it was Hanuman who he was being compared with. Surely, a visage of Ramanand Sagar’s Hanuman would have been more apt?

But the sincerity, with which the message asks you to recount the similarities 'apne dil par haath rakh kar', is something else.

NaMo NaMo PM Go!

This is my personal favourite. Primarily because they rhyme 'tea vendor' with 'the last air-bender'. How cool is THAT?

Everything that NaMo does (or is going to do) finds place here. In three exciting minutes, this video manages to summarise the main qualities* (terms & conditions apply) of the PM candidate, that too in rhyme. Set to dance music. And with snazzy slide transition effects? As Saif Ali Khan says, WOW!

If this is not worth 272 seats, I don’t know what is?

Came across a contest organised by Cadbury 5 Star about people jinki #ConditionSeriousHai. So, here is my take on two friends discussing a love affair - either real or imagined.

At what point does one realize that you are in love with someone? Gaurav wondered as he walked up the stairs to their flat. Every time he left Rohini, the urge to ask her to stay back grew stronger. How long will it take my ego to actually say it to her, he wondered?

As he fumbled with the keys, he thought about the number of love stories that do not happen because the guy is trying too hard not to appear desperate to the girl.

He threw the keys in the bowl on the cabinet and kicked off his shoes. The TV was on. Dandy was watching a news channel at half past two?

“Has Nigar Khan joined…” he stopped to take the scene in. A distinguished looking lady was sitting on the futon. She was twirling the remote and had The Authoritative Calvin & Hobbes open on her lap.

“Hi, you must be Gaurav.” She switched to Bengali and said, “My name is Rituparna. I am also a Bong, though not from Calcutta.”

“Hello.” Gaurav squeaked as he tried desperately to think of a polite way of asking what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-in-my-drawing-room.

“I was wondering why you were late.” Atul walked in. “You guys have met. She is the Head of HR at the bank.”

“Oh.” Gaurav’s confusion increased now.

“I think I will freshen up. The cab should be reaching.” Rituparna said and turned to leave the room. She stopped at the door. “I was noticing that you have all the eight albums that make up the complete Calvin & Hobbes series.”

“You are the second person to notice that.”

“Thankfully, you did not say that I was too old to figure that out.” She smiled brightly, turned on her heels and entered Dandy’s room.

“Who is she?” Gaurav whispered to Atul.

“I told you na… she is the HR Head of…”

“You jerk. I heard that. What is she doing in our flat at 2 AM? Don’t tell me you are screwing her…”

“Well, screw is not the word…”

“You were making lurve, maybe? And I thought you were finding some Ritu babe in your office hot.”

“She is Ritu.”

“Huh?”

“Her name is Rituparna. Everybody calls her Ritu,”

“That Ritu is this Ritu? Mind-blowing. You are seeing the VP – HR of your company all this while and pretending as if you are…”

The curtain parted and Rituparna walked back in. She was pulling a strolley and had a bag on her shoulder.

“I am catching the first flight to Bangalore. So, instead of going back all the way to my pad, I thought I’ll just sack here.”

“Where do you stay?”

“Samudra Mahal. It’s an apartment block near the Worli…”

“Yes, I kind of know it.”

Her mobile rang. “Yes, I will just come down. My cab’s here. So, see you around – Gaurav. We must catch dinner together sometime.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“We had dinner at Mahesh. Atul was missing you very badly. Though that did not reduce his appetite one bit.”

“Yes, he is a bit of a hypocrite that way!”

“He is, isn’t he?” She ruffled Atul’s hair as she adjusted her bag, which had slipped down.

Atul walked her to the lift.

Gaurav attacked him the moment he walked back in. “You bastard, how come you don’t tell me anything nowadays?”

“Bugger off, you are sounding like Rajendra Kumar.”

“Screw you. Why did you keep her under wraps?”

“Bugger, I am not even sure if we are an item or not. Look, it’s not like a simple fling you have after meeting at an office party. She is like very like me, you know. And you, for that matter. She kind of relates.” Atul made quote gestures as he said ‘relates’.

“Which world are you living in? You are sleeping with a grown-up woman and you don’t know if you are seeing her?”

“We are not!”

“What? Seeing each other?”

“Yes, that. And sleeping too. We did not have sex today. Or ever.”

“But she looked very post-coital right now.”

“Tu bada jaanta hai coitus ke barey mein?”

“The girl ruffles your hair on her way out. She is relaxing on your futon while you come out adjusting trousers. If this is not coitus…”

“Bloody hell. If you are in Shikha’s drawing room at 2 AM, does it mean you are screwing her?”

“No, it means I am massaging my balls after she chewed them off in a pool session. Abbe, don’t be bloody pendantic. Shikha is like one of the guys. She is not some statuesque head of HR…”

“What is the meaning of statuesque?”

Gaurav started laughing.

“Why are you laughing, fucker?”

“Here, a lady lot older than you is sitting in your flat in the middle of the night and you are thinking of word meanings?”

“She is a friend, yaar!”

“But you have the hots for her…”

Atul was uncharacteristically shy. “Well, I do have a bit of a soft corner…”

“Soft corner? Bloody hell… you have a hard-on.”

Gaurav softened when he saw Dandy’s expression. And had to smile.

“So, how is she?”

“She’s very cool, yaar. She attended the Rolling Stones concert. She met them backstage and had a Licks t-shirt autographed and all.”

“Does she know the songs also or…”

“Boss, she is totally into it. She knows the Stones. She knows Calvin & Hobbes. She knows teen-patti. She is on first name terms with Abbas…”

“Who is Abbas?”

“The manager of Zenzi. He like escorted us in when we were there.”

“So, she is super cool. But if she is so cool, why is she working on a Sunday?”

“Working?”

“She just went on a tour, right?”

“Arre, she is going to Bangalore. To meet her daughter. She is at the NLS.”

“You are dating a woman with a grown up daughter?”

“Chuck this grown up woman bit. I am not dating… actually, I am dating her.”

“Dandy, you are priceless. You are dating a woman who is like a lot older, a lot lot richer and a lot lot lot sophisticated. Do you think you can handle it?”

“What is there to handle, yaar? Right now, I like being with her. I think she also likes being with me. So, we are trying dating. Let’s see how we both feel after a year or so?”

“Your mom will leave you in peace for a year? Without asking to get married?”

“Haan yaar, that’s not happening! But then, if I take Ritu and tell Ma that I want to marry her, then can you imagine the scene?”

They both doubled over in laughter at the thought. When they stopped, Gaurav had to say what had been their catchphrase since b-school days.

“Dandy yaar, tera condition serious hai...”

Popular comedian Aditi Mittal (aka @awryaditi on Twitter) has written a brilliant column on a brilliant film. Of the many joys she recounted, one incident stuck with me:

Suddenly, my brother liked a girl and no one was yelling at him about it. Instead, I was being made to put on a salwar kameez and meet her. She was very pretty, and I could tell my brother cared for her and she for him. But that did not quell my suspicions. As we walked out after lunch that day, I suddenly heard my mother say “Adu, your dupatta is dragging on the floor.” And, as I turned around, my to-be-bhabhi blurted, “Gogoji, apka ghaghra.”

This story reminded me of something as well.

Many years ago, I joined the Calcutta branch of a FMCG multinational to ‘take over’ a state as the Sales Manager. The guy I was supposed to take over from was a Tam Brahm, vegetarian and seemed unnecessarily combative in the fleeting occasions that I met him. I did not have a good feeling about him but started the process nevertheless. It was progressing without incident till we were about to leave the sales depot one evening. He suddenly said, “Arre, aaj kuch maal nahin becha? Khandaani ASM hoon. Aaya hoon, kuch to bechke jaoonga!”

The point of these two stories lies in the reaction to the film when it first released and my frustrations thereof.

When Andaz Apna Apna opened, there was considerable buzz in Calcutta because two chocolate box heroes were coming together for the first time. Or maybe there wasn’t and it was just my sister – an Aamir Khan fan – who ‘whipped up the buzz’. Anyway, a friend and I reached Priya one matinee show to watch what seemed like a romantic comedy. My friend read the works of Leon Trotsky in his spare time but was not averse to the occasional Bollywood flick. We were both unprepared for what unfolded next.

During the film, I laughed so hard that I was gasping for breath for most part of the movie and when Gogo did the Dhikki tikki dance towards the end, I felt I would pass out because I was not able to breathe. My friend remained stoic throughout.

When we were exiting the hall and I was planning to come back for a second show soon, my friend asked – “Did you really find the movie that funny or were you being sarcastic?” I was dumbfounded and suddenly realised that the movie had alienated me perfectly. Andaz Apna Apna had no takers in Culturally Conscious Calcutta.

Over the next few years, I remained cautiously positive about my views about AAA because I did not find a single person who even mildly enjoyed the movie, leave alone laugh uproariously. In fact, I came to believe that this was one of those freak cases where I would remain alone in my choice.

So when I met Ganesh – the aforementioned khandaani ASM – it was like discovering a twin after growing up. We were the only ones in the office who were Andaz Apna Apna fans and our colleagues shook their heads indulgently when we lapsed into our giggling discussions about Mohun Bagan, Rabbit and maiyat ka chanda. I found it very strange that our colleagues and friends – who shared many common likes and interests – were oblivious to the charms of Amar Prem.

Before this beast called the internet came about, we never realised that on a planet of seven billion people, no one can be alone. And that’s when we realised there is a Cult of Gogo. We were all watching the reruns on Zee TV and laughing together – except we did not know it then.

As Google spread its tentacles, obscure blogs got discovered. As Bollywood chat forums became active, we found these soulmates. As Facebook allowed us to form the craziest groups, we sent friend requests to these spiritual siblings.

And that’s when Andaz Apna Apnafound its following.

This is somewhat different from most films that are called ‘cult classics’.

Andaz Apna Apna had a decent opening and the appeal wasn’t niche. After all, it had two of India’s hottest stars in the lead. Karisma Kapoor and Raveena Tandon weren’t pushovers either.

Cult classics are usually films which don’t get noticed when they release but build up a fan following over the years. Andaz Apna Apna got noticed and then people just looked away. Unlike other cult classics (like, say, Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro), Andaz Apna Apnahad and still has a large number of detractors. Many people still don’t ‘get’ the humour and that is where this classic is a little more cult than the others.

And that brings the Andaz Apna Apna friend into play.

An AAA friend is the guy who was the first person you know who turned out to be a fan of the movie. He became a soulmate on this quality alone and you never regretted the friendship. He was the one who completed the lines you started to say. She is the one you SMS “AAA on Zee Cinema” even now. He is the guy who – after getting drunk – says “Bus ke backseat mein woh Shashi Tharoor hi tha, b******....”

It is my belief that everybody – and not only fans of the movie – has an Andaz Apna Apna friend.

If I broaden the definition a little bit, she is the one who shows you it is okay to be quirky, it is okay to like things nobody else likes, it is better to be happy than successful.

And that friend eventually helps you transform from a kachcha khiladi to a pakka khiladi.

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Who is your Andaz Apna Apna friend?