Arjun Kapoor and Parineeti Chopra

In my almost two decades of radio career (f*ck I am old), I have interviewed celebs of all kinds, good, bad, ugly, tantrum throwing, over friendly, superstars, shooting stars, even the dust. I have enjoyed some interviews thoroughly and slept through the rest but it’s always fun meeting celebs, asking them questions, trying to break through the cool façade they shield their real selves with and finally managing a candid moment or two. I didn’t have to try much with Parineeti Chopra. She stands in sharp contrast to her uptight, boring, always politically correct but hot and sexy superstar cousin Priyanka Chopra. Parineeti is a breath of fresh air in an industry which is all about ‘it was great working with him’ ‘he is such a professional actor’ ‘if the script demands’ blah. Even when she is giving some safe answers, she either apologized for doing so or admitted she was sounding profusely boring. Whenever I interview anyone, I look for some fun, light-hearted, some shocking, some never before moments that I call promo worthy moments (that can run in the promos of my show) but most of all, I look for honesty. You can be the dullest human being on the face of this Earth, bore me to death with your yawn worthy answers, but if you serve it with any amounts of genuineness, I would have respect for you. Parineeti lived up to my expectation. She was as candid as it gets. Full respect. And immense respect for the man who lost his mom just before the release of his first film and here he is talking about his film, his once scale breaking weight, his likes, dislikes and facing adulation, speculation and all that in between with a smile. Arjun Kapoor was very unlike Parineeti. He was somber, to the point and very economical with his words hardly leaving me with any promo worthy moments, but he was honest in all his answers. Genuine and Forthright. I love Shakespeares. If you are glib, can juggle with words, convey your thoughts articulately, I fall for you. At one point in time I used to mistake them as intelligent. Not any longer. Arjun Kapoor is cogent with his words and intelligent too. The man speaks fast and thinks faster, has a sense of humor too. Alas! I couldn’t get enough of it on the phone though. Ishaqzade releases on 11th May. I will watch it not only for two of them who gave me brilliant interviews but also for the man who made one of the best films in 2010, Do Doni Char. I want to see what magic Habib Faisal weaves this time in Ishaqzade.

Singing the unsung...

Amidst a thousand award functions that can be easily replaced with each other, Filmfare Awards 2011-2012 had one heart wrenching moment when Utha Uthup came to receive her first Filmfare in her 42 years of singing career. She had tears in her eyes and that broke my heart. Such a candid, heartfelt moment was that!

Every decade had seen a couple of singers ruling the roost in our film industry. Be it Lata and Asha in sixties and seventies or Alka and Kavita in eighties or Sunidhi and Shreya in nineties. Thank god for new filmmakers, new cinematic sensibilities and the era of experimentation. We have clearly moved on from ‘awesome singers’ to ‘awesome songs’. With films based on characters and situations, it has opened a world of opportunities for singers who were once told –you-are-not-a-hero’s-voice.

Neeraj Shridhar who at one point in time was too anglicised for our desi heroes has now a song in practically every album lending his voice to every Khan, Kapoor or a Kumar that there is! Mika and Mohit Chauhan who made money only during college festivals, hopping from college to another singing their ONE HIT and making hay till the sun lasted have now a myriad of experimental albums to their credit.

And the most heartbreaking of all- Usha Uthup. I have been a huge fan of Usha ji. Be it tu mujhe jaan se bhi pyara hain or hari om hari, hari om hari, I have grown up listening to her. And now when I play her songs ‘daaaaaaarling’ from Saat Khoon maaf or ‘kolkattttttaaaaa’ from Kahaani on my radio show, there’s extra excitement in my voice, a divine intervention, a poetic justice. Imagine recognition eludes you for forty long years; you don’t give up; you continue doing what you can do the best; in hapless hope of some pat on the back sometime; and one fine day you hear your name announced as the best singer of the year, the moment that only sweet dreams were made of four for decades, dawns now, leaving you totally choked. What a tear-jerker!

Facebook

Facebook has altered my daily routine. The first thing I do waking up every morning is brush my teeth. Facebook has replaced my toothpaste now. It’s an addiction. I wake up to see how many comments on my update, how many likes on my picture, how many comments and generally what the world is up to.

In the days of yore, my idea of fun was bean bags, cups of chai, namkeen or matthi and being with like minded, trust worthy people I called friends. With facebook, even the meaning of friends has changed. People I might not even know reflect in my friend list.

When was the last that we went out on a picnic, watched a movie with friends, lounged at a cafe, played a game of cards or badminton and NOT facebooked about it??
Enter any get together/party/event, most of the people in the room would either be BBMing or updating about their whereabouts, uploading pictures or just telling the world how much ‘fun’ they are having in life. Trust me in this mad race of telling the world about our ‘fun’ times, we actually miss out on the real fun.

We were at a concert the other day. Mohit Chauhan was performing. I have a vivid picture of the stage, the lights, the sound, how Mohit almost tripped over the wires, and how the guitarist just posed and played his part. My friend doesn’t remember any bit. He was busy shooting videos and taking pictures and updating ‘how much fun’ he had at the concert. I fail to understand how one can have fun if you are constantly on the phone. You have to drink in the moment, absorb all that surrounds you, see, hear, feel...only if you lift your face from that godforsaken phone of yours. I guess it’s the virtual peer pressure, the need to tell the world the ‘cool’ things you are doing, the ‘cool’ places you are at and the ‘cool’ people you are meeting.

It’s because of the same peer pressure that I overheard someone complain how badly she wanted to go shopping. Back in the day you wouldn’t repeat a dress in the same circle of friends but could easily wear it elsewhere. Now you CAN NOT repeat a dress, period. Everyone has checked all your clothes in your innumerable facebook albums.

And then there are funny rules to the game. Your popularity is directly proportional to the number of likes you have got on your update or the number of comments on your picture. My cousin and I almost picked a fight coz we chose not to comment on each others’ pictures or comments. Yes this is called virtual ignoring. And this is no exaggeration when I say that couples have broken up because one didn’t comment or like the other’s update or picture.

So you know your quote friend unquote has got married not because you received the invitation card or attended his/her wedding, but because the relationship status changed from being single to married.

In fact a month ago when Delhi was hit by an earthquake, people tweeted and facebooked about it instead of running out of the house. The need of being the first one to break it first might even cost us our lives.
On a lighter note, I read something funny ironically on facebook. A newly married guy updated- suhag raat hain, ghoongat utha raha hoon main. Heights!!

incomplete...

Like my scribble-stories that I start and leave unsaid
And those thick books, unread

Like a gym membership that works as a charity
Like my favourite TV show losing its popularity

Like the much awaited movies
That I walk out coz I am so bored
And an almost interesting chat
That I log out coz I aint sure

Like the song that I so love
Alas only for a minute
Coz right after the first verse
I start to fidget

Like ideas that excite me
And just excite me

Like the dishes I cook hungrily but hardly sit down to eat
Like many a things I skip and leave incomplete

Like those things that have a beginning but do not seem to end
This verse I promise is no different,
Coz I...

Sardiyaan...

Garam angidhi mein barsaat ke bhunte huye bhutte
aur sardiyon ki sulaghti moongfaliya...
chashni mein chip chip jalebiyan
aur sust chai ki chuskiyan...
haus khas ke kile pe hawa se baatein
aur ridge road ke thande meethe goonjte sannate...
kabhi kabhi aaj bhi dil ke veeran kone mein sardiyon ki sarsarahat si dastak de jate hain...

Ek baat...

Ek baat
Shabdo ki mohtaaj
Khud se jhoojthi hui...
Lavjo ko dhoondti hui,
Kabhi aankhon ke raste bahar aana chahe...
Kabhi dabi muskurahat ban ke reh jaye
Aur lab par aate hi
Phir ladkhada jaye

Avaz se dushmani ho jaise...
Yeh baat nikle toh nikle kaise...?

Lokesh Dharmani- 18th Oct 2011 7:37 p.m

Let's find a solution...

It’s been more than ten days now ever since Mumbai blasts, or shall I say, ever since the latest, most recent Mumbai bomb blasts. (It’s imperative to give reference when we have so many of them!) I have been keeping quiet, acting like a sponge, observing and absorbing everything that people have to say about the issue of terrorism that has been plaguing our country since time immemorial. So right from facebook/twitter updates to news channels to radio stations to blogs, I have watched/read/heard them all. It was almost like preparing for a debate competition back in school or preparing a long literature answer in college. You refer to different books and notes and put all the best points together to come up with the best piece. I wanted to hear everyone and sundry so that I could find solutions, some concrete solutions that would enable us to combat terrorism.

Alas! There aren’t too many.

While the facebook updates either lash angst at the neighbouring country or squeak a lame ‘how long’ post for the sake of ‘being with it’, the TV channels are on a different tangent altogether! From shamelessly reporting the heart wrenching sights of a dying Mumbai, to mercilessly zooming into helpless faces, asking them the lamest, the most inhuman question, how they felt at a loss of a young family member to morally judging a politician for his presence at a fashion show or a Bollywood star for throwing a birthday party for a fellow star, they have titillated enough for petty TRPs.

What disgusts and amuses me at the same time is the lavish usage of the new word- resilience! Resilience is the ability to recover from misfortune. My only question – does a middle class man who earns a few hundred everyday have the luxury to be resilient?? Paradoxical! Painfully paradoxical. Dear Politician, try earning five thousand a month and then dare spell helplessness as r-e-s-i-l-i-e-n-c-e!

I wanted to have some solutions so badly that I struck a conversation with a couple of my colleagues this morning. One fumed with anger and the other shrugged shoulders in a –nobody-cares-dude vibe..ofcourse...coz bomb blasts always happen to other people, not us!

Some thoughts that I still ponder on after absorbing it all-

# 10 people die every day in Mumbai local trains that makes an average of 300 every month, almost thrice the number of deaths in the last bomb blast. Terrorism comes much later, get your trains system right first.

# Can our political parties be ever human? Would we ever see our Prime Minister and the leader of the Opposition call a press conference and take a stand TOGETHER against terrorism?

# Why don’t we hike our police personnel’s salaries? Almost one third of the State Intelligence department’s seats are lying vacant. Have you ever wondered why parents never say- “humara beta toh police join karega?” (After all a DJ spins for a night and earns five times a police officer’s monthly income!)

# Should we have an autonomous apolitical party that’s accountable for terrorist attacks?

# Would some kind of training be of any help?

# How much can we as citizens contribute? Be more receptive to the security checks?

It's high time we found concrete solutions to this problem and stopped taking pot-shots at one another. If you have any more thoughts, feel free to contribute.

They have attacked our malls, markets, parks, pubs, hell the iconic Taj in Mumbai. They have not even spared our Parliament House and we still sign mercy petitions for the likes of Kasab and Afzal Guru and continue giving a fillip to the terrorist morale.