Thrashing Taboo

In the world's oldest civilization, customs and practices are bound to undergo significant changes as time tides over. 

An ancient nation with the most prolific community of scientists, medical practitioners, astrologers, mathematicians, philosophers carried within itself a large jar of abominations.

Taboos. 

The golden age of Indian civilization witnessed the celebration of free thoughts, free speech and liberal actions where subjects that would invite cold stares & shocking glares in today's modern India, were freely discussed in large public forums and places where large scale public gathering took place. 

In today's ultra modern India, where it is alright for a girl from an 'upper' caste to dress less conservatively so as to be more in vogue with the trending fashion, it is not so for the same 'upper' caste girl to be caught talking to a member of another community or worse someone belonging to a 'lower' caste! This is a taboo. 

While it is alright for one's own daughter to climb up the academic and the corporate ladder, it is not so for the daughter in law to do so. This is a taboo. 

I could go on with a very lengthy list of mundane issues that are considered normal for some and taboo for the others. 

While India is the second most populous nation on the face of earth it is a taboo to freely discuss about the Original Sin. It is something that has to be spoken about in hushed tones in the constrains of four walls of the house or between two individuals who have the legal right to consummate their marriage. Anything remotely linked with the basic instinct of all men & women is considered taboo to speak about. It is something guarded fiercely as very private and confidential. 

These are precisely stuff that kindles the wild curiosities of the yet unaware. The more one tries to cover it up under the guise of taboo, the more one's mind fights to remove the sheath. 

Another taboo issue that is becoming more and more prevalent in modern India is infertility. The trauma that surrounds the unfortunate couple who yearn for a child of their own is quite immense whose depth can be explained only by the ones who are undergoing it. 

Though the medical field has taken huge strides in this area and offers various means and methods to conceive, the process itself is under the shadow of taboo and the fear of humiliation and rejection. 

I enjoyed watching John Abraham's maiden production venture 'Vicky Donor' yesterday in the comforts of a plush multiplex in the National Capital Region. This is truly a coming of the age movie that breaks the shackles of taboo associated with sperm donation. 

Indian men have egos larger than.. U know what! I have heard of marriages seeing a premature end because of the man's refusal to accept the possibility of a deficiency in his system. It is always easier to blame the meek and our society is such that it readily accepts if the woman is accused of being barren without even questioning the man. It is taboo. 

Vicky Donor is one of the boldest movies churned out by Bollywood till date and they say what they want to say in a brazen - unabashed manner that hits the ball to the park. The thought of a guy making a career out of sperm donation in itself is novel and it therefore deserves a round of applause. There is nothing sublime about the message in the movie. It is there; right in front of you; there is no way you can ignore it!

Congratulations to the cast & crew of this amazing new movie that comes as a breath of fresh air in the stale stinking formula melee that Bollywood was slowing turning out to be. 

Sowing Stereotypes

The 'first world's timeless obsession of construing 'third world' countries such as our own as filthy places swarming with mosquitoes, roaches and all sorts of creepy crawlies as well as primitive peoples that belong to a world different from the pristine ones they are so proud of, continues with Fox Searchlight's latest 'India - centric' comedy about a bunch of retired British individuals who are lured by a budding entrepreneur in distant Jaipur, Rajasthan with a dream of peaceful and exotic living in India's royal abode. 

The recently released 'The Best exotic Marigold Hotel' is a classic example of how the uptight and notoriously vain native British community sees India, their one time colonial crown jewel. 

The film's producers have included a couple of recognizable faces from the Indian film industry also just to connect with the vast English movie watching - multiplex visiting Indian populace. 

While 'The best..' filmmakers recognize the huge potential of India as a market for their work, its a pity they willingly forget to portray a more balanced picture of my country. 

The opening shots of the movie are quite funny and I did laugh a bit when the comedy was race, gender and ethnicity neutral. Well that was may be for the first 5 minutes and then you had a supposedly funny racist octogenarian who demands for a more 'English' doctor to look into her hip replacement rather than be attended by one who is available but is unqualified because of the color of his skin. Well the joke is, the more 'English' doctor is an Indian!

I really wondered, even after 3 - 4 generations of living in Britain, people of Indian origin are still not recognized as British and are still subjected to suspicion and bias, whereas in India, we easily accept many fair skinned foreigners into our mainstream without prejudice and without prior judgement. We have one literally shadow ruling us all with an iron fist and the other semi - Indian lady ruling the silver screen. Well! blimey!! we even had a Brazilian model passed off as a Punjabi girl and nobody suspected anything fishy until the secret was out. Remember "Love Aaj Kal"?

In a particular scene in the movie 'The best exotic Marigold Hotel' Dame Judi Dench's character Evelyn Greenslade's son who is accompanying her to the London airport asks her how she would contact him from India! come on! 'they do have phones over there, you know' was her reply. This made me wonder. Seriously guys! this is all you could think of? we sure have come a long way from being snake charmers and hermits! we do have telephones and not all Indians communicate through telepathy or use doves as messengers. 

Another particular scene is of much intrigue, when the retired bunch arrives at Delhi, their connecting flight to Jaipur is delayed and one of them who is a retired high court judge who has visited India before decides to hitch a ride in one of those rickety private buses to Jaipur. 

This scene though might have invoked bouts of laughter among the unassuming British audience, the sparsely occupied multiplex where I was watching this movie was a silent one since no one could find the joke in this one, particularly when there are excellent taxi services right from the airport or there are posh air conditioned Volvos and Mercedes Benzes doing the rounds from Delhi to Jaipur and back. After all, it is a popular tourist circuit. Why show the shitty side of India always??

Obviously the bus they travel in is overcrowded, laden with luggage. Thankfully, they did not show poultry and cattle inside or on top of the bus as is the usual case with these western film makers. Not once in the movie do they even show a glimpse of the progressive India, the  real estate boom that has resulted in countless hives of apartments springing up at all places, the IT boom that has led to huge glass facade buildings and mega shopping malls, the economic revolution that has opened doors for European luxury and sports car manufacturers set up shop in India (Aston Martin set up its second shop in New Delhi after Mumbai recently & we already have RR, Bentley, JLR scurrying around Indian roads)

Well, their arrival at their promised Utopia is also mired in ridicule. They hop onto to the omnipresent Tuk Tuks. Originally of Gujarat, this desi innovation in rapid mass transit has spread across to other states of Northern & Central India as well. I guess the ageing Britishers were too vain to even acknowledge the existence of other decent modes of transport in Rajasthan's largest city. 

The hotel itself is portrayed more as a cattle shed. Desperately in need of a thorough renovation and in urgent need of installation of phones, furniture and even in some cases doors to the rooms! The hapless crowd of Britishers are in for a nasty surprise when they see that their much anticipated vacation in Nirvana land is going to be a truly Himalayan experience. The overtly nice bunch decides to continue with their stay nevertheless, in the nearly dilapidated haveli turned hotel instead of reporting the fraud to their embassy or the nearest police station. Well done! 

There are some pleasant snapshots in the film where the most hardcore critic of anything outside of being British, the wheel chair bound character Muriel Donnelly played by the charismatic Maggie Smith undergoes a change of heart, maybe due to the kindness of the Indian people or due to the sheer helplessness of her situation. 

In one scene, Muriel is invited by a servant working in the hotel to her modest home in a slum on the outskirts of the city. The small house which is more a room is filled with more people than the furniture in Muriel's British home. 

The whole movie is peppered with striking stereotypes which is too hard to swallow and makes your blood boil with anger and then quickly cools down with the realization of useless rage. 

These guys will continue to make such stereotypical movies about India as long as we accept them with pseudo liberal mindsets. 

I had thought this would be the end with Mira Nair's Salaam Bombay & Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire but the saga continues unabated. Maybe, India's dark underbelly will continue to haunt its people by stark portrayals of deep rooted casteism, racism, poverty & disorder in the Indian society. The popular series on mutants 'Heroes' had an Indian city set up in an American studio and was testimony to the western world's typecasting of Indian cities and its people. They showed a city what according to them was Chennai obviously with cattle roaming, but of all! people wearing Rajasthani turbans in typical South India! 

I am sure everyone was critical of the portrayal of Chennai again in the doomsday movie '2012' where they show old vintage cars and cattle loitering around a small & dingy structure which is supposed to be the airport. 

George Lucas's famous Indiana Jones series' second installment was based in India. The Temple of doom though shot entirely in Sri Lanka portrayed India as a land ruled over by a tantric bigot played by the indomitable Amrish Puri and where people had monkey brains for food. No wonder, the movie was banned in India and I haven't seen any movie channel ever showing this movie on Indian television ever. 

I don't see one mainstream Hollywood movie doing winning an Oscar for the true portrayal of the even darker underbellies of American and European imperialist regimes and the wasted youth of those countries. I really wonder why the great Martin Scorsese has (and probably will never) not won any academy award for his excellent works. Maybe because he dared to show the truth. The dirty side of a world that only shows its best side to the other part of the world. 

The best possible to stop these tongues wagging is to bring about a drastic change in the way we exist as a nation. Give them no chance to point fingers. I don't see any western filmmaker worth his salt make a movie about the hardships the Chinese face under the oppressive rule of the communist regime, about the nefarious schemes of the zionist regime nor do I see the ill fate of immigrants living in America's staunchest ally in the Arab world, the kingdom of the Sauds. 

What is laudable are the works of Michael Moore. He has been a crusader of sorts and has been showcasing in-your-face documentaries on the west's hypocrisy. His docu - dramas Fahrenheit 911 & Sicko are more of journalistic exposes. 

I truly detest this censorship in film making and call for a more open minded approach towards nations who are working really hard to get recognized at world forums and have true potential to be great. I look forward to a more neutral view point of India and a more subliminal if not over the top portrayal of India's growth story. 

The Great Indian Traffic Tamasha

Creating this post sitting in the plush premises of the Delhi Domestic Airport, Terminal 1D on my way to Namma Bengaluru.

As my cab snaked its way through the narrow labyrinths of Noida and the wide corridors of New Delhi a great saga unfolded in my restless mind.

I may sound like a bickering old hag all the while complaining the plight of affairs in our country. Hell yeah! I have spent a jolly good part of my life on these dusty lanes travelling from point A to point B. But the journey in between these 2 dots on the Google map is what makes the mere sight of the destination a monumental occasion.

Traffic on Indian roads have great stories to tell if you have the ears and the eyes for it. Many a great director of the glorious Indian film Industry (as Bachan Saab prefers it) built castles in the air waiting for the signal to turn green on the busy Mumbai roads during rush hour.

Supposedly, an average person spends almost 5 years of his lifetime waiting in traffic. 5 years is good enough to fetch you a handsome package of gratuity. Yet, all these lost moments do have something in store for all of us. It enriches your experience. It changes your outlook towards the mundane. It makes you sink in a feeling of gratitude towards your old man and woman and the supreme deity (for the believers) for the good life that your bestowed with.

How often do we just wish we are teleported from our places of work to our home just like they do on Star Trek. "Beam me up Scotty!!" you would instruct your maid at home. Scientific minds working regardless of the position of the sun outside their cordoned off laboratories have in fact already achieved this feat at the atomic level. Science fiction is no longer that. It is on the threshold of becoming an application.

Tamasha is a folk dance - drama art form which was much sought after by Maharashtra's great rulers. It also imbibes the unique art of satire and tease.

The Traffic scenario on the Indian roads is no less a Tamasha. If you have the writer's eye for it, you will observe it has so much more to offer than just dust and smoke and the sore sight of that haggardly beggar pestering you for small change at every next traffic junction.

While In Bangalore I had the distinction of travelling the furthest and I would boast about it shamelessly in front of my colleagues. How it was an advantage in my quest for superiority is unknown. Travelling almost 65 km on my trusty Bajaj Pulsar 150, I connected the south to the north of the Garden City. The mornings were virtually event free but in the twilight of the setting sun, I saw the nocturnal beings come out of their hiding.

There were freelancing salesmen hawking the strangest of wares such as a 64 GB pen drive, cheap knock offs of expensive looking Police and Rayban Sunglasses and cute looking toys which you could use to decorate your car's dashboard. There were also less interesting "items" such as those horrid ear buds (you would have already come across an email warning you against buying those), those oh so expensive rag clothes, etc etc.

Stopping at the one of the countless traffic junctions, one could see an entire family of wanderers, nomads or the desi Bedouins camping at one of the sprawling pavements or under one of those newly constructed flyovers dotting the city - scape, putting up for display brightly coloured porcelain figurines, baskets, vases, lamp shades made out of bamboo straw, hammocks and such other interesting stuff. One can see a newly born sleeping on a make shift cradle while the elder kids are seen playing or enjoying a friendly fight. The women folk are busy arranging the crude stove for the family's evening fiesta. This is an entire family trying to make an honest living. We often ignore them and move on when the signal turns green never to think once if the man of the house has been able to earn enough that day to provide for his folk.

One also sees at a corner a spread of popular books for sale. You see Stephen king rubbing shoulders with Stephen Hawking, Shiv Khera flirting with Tasleema Nasreen, John Grisham demanding attention over the Chetan Bhagats. Copy right infringement or not, Indians with an active appetite for reading mill around such corners in droves to get a great deal on some equally great paper backs. You have books on management, inspirational - motivational, religion, Sci - fi, fiction & non fiction, biographies and graphic novels.

It isn't a problem in Delhi, but come down to Mumbai and Bangalore, it is sometimes scary to stop at a traffic junction. If it is not the thick pall of smoke from BEST or BMTC buses depending on where you are, that frightens you, it is the sight of harassing transvestites doing their daily rounds demanding alms from hapless commuters. Moreover, you do not get rid of them by shelling out coins and notes of a lower denomination. Anything less than a Rs 10 note then you are in for a truckload of profanities thrown at you. Even worse, you are often blackmailed into paying ransom money of sorts to protect your modesty from the transgenders. The police are helpless as they are too held up regulating the ocean of traffic.

The policemen stationed at all traffic junctions are real heroes who are doing the society an awesome service through their unrelenting efforts at keeping the traffic from getting out of control. Their patience and perseverance ensures that we all get home to our dear ones on time and enjoy a warm evening with them.

We often feel that the policemen are not polite enough and often behave in a manner unbecoming of their role of protecting and guiding the citizens.
But, imagine spending morning - noon - evening in a 5 x 5 feet area manning thousands of gas guzzling and smoke belching automobiles, unruly pedestrians, jaywalkers who put at risk their own lives as well as that of speeding motorists. Working in total oblivion to both ethereal and kernel damage their health is undergoing, they go about with their duties. Sincerely, they deserve at least a moment of thought and appreciation from one and all.

India is the maternal home of the Holy Cow. We have the largest number of cattle in the world. Indian cities are the only places where the cows and oxen hobnob with the BMWs, Toyotas and the Mercs. It is common sight for us all to see a motley herd of cows and calves chewing on cud resting in the middle of busy roads totally ignorant of the morning rush hour. Motorists in India are adept in negotiating around these benign creatures. Of course, these gentle beings are politely ushered out of the roads if the situation gets out of hand.
Stray cattle are our long standing companions on the road and we often feel something's amiss when we don't see them on a particularly odd day.

The Indian traffic scene is a very big petting zoo where you come across farm animals other than the proverbial holy cow. You are greeted by howling packs of stray canines, cats of myriad colours crossing the roads, rats & bandicoots scurrying towards the nearest drain, pigs scavenging on the road side refuse dump, the dhobi's donkeys just chilling out and the tangewallah's mules loitering around in their off time.


They say India has as many Gods as there are people. This is a holy land where there are more temples and shrines than there are homes for the homeless and the poor. The traffic scene in India also witnesses crowds of believers queuing up in front of shrines that seem to come up from nowhere bang in the center of a busy road. We are a God fearing nation and we are more than glad to have a temple of our favourite deity to have come up on the road. Of course, it is because of divine intervention that we all survive the madness. We see people stopping their posh 4 wheelers and genuflecting in front of the idol, bribing the priest to pray on their behalf. On special occasions such as birthdays of mythical warrior kings who are revered as Gods, we see men & women swarming the road - shrine seeking Their blessings. Of course, this throws traffic out of gear, but hey! we are a tolerant nation and surely we do not mind compromising on our Log in time in return for a celestial favor.

India's two greatest passions are cricket and movies. Entertainment is a cure all for the battered & bruised average Indian who finds solace in it. The slow moving traffic provides easy access to the latest updates in the arena of entertainment to the star struck Indian looking out for a quick gateway to the dream world. The rooftops of hotels, office spaces, commercial complexes and even houses lined on either side of the roads are hosts to huge fabricated structures called billboards endorsing a product or the latest release on the marquee.
Motorists are quite often distracted by the beckoning of the attractive female on the poster strategically positioned by the advertising agency to garner maximum attention of the passing motorists.

The Indian spirit of adventurism is an unconventional one as we experience adventure in the seemingly mundane. The traffic scene gives us the rare opportunity for self introspection and to reflect upon our past. As we circumnavigate the sprawling traffic island, our life too comes full circle.




I salute the indomitable Indian spirit and thank the supreme almighty that blesses the children of this majestic country the courage and patience to survive the Great Indian Traffic Tamasha.

“Experience is by far the best teacher. You know, ever since I was a little girl I knew that if you look both ways when you cross the street, you'll see a lot more than traffic.”
 - Mae West, American Actress (1892 - 1980)