Prateik babbar Photoshoot Making For 'The Man' Magazine

Pratiek babbar Photoshoot Making For 'The Man' Magazine

noreply@blogger.com (neena) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 16:30:00 +0000

The Man JULY'11

Section: Cover story

THE GYPSY KING, UNLEASHED
Sans his heavyweight second name, sans a fear of failure and sans loyalty to anyone but himself and god-honestly good cinema, Anand Chandy thinks Prateik is ready to turn your notions of Indian actors and cinema on its head

On a moonless night, Prateik walks towards the middle of an empty ground. Outside a studio somewhere in Mumbai, with a couple of stray dogs wrangling for an empty cigarette pack for company, he pauses. Making sure he’s far enough from us, yet close enough to hear him scream, “Yeah!” he quivers and farts. “You shouldn’t hold anything in. What a relief,” he says running back to us. Yes, he’s real. He’s not guarded. He’s afraid, though - that you won’t perceive him as a friend, that you won’t look beyond the makeup and the celluloid mould; beyond everything that he tries to be, just to be different – just to break out of the chains that once bound him.

Just months ago this strapping young lad with washboard abs posed for pictures at the Toronto Film Festival. Flanked by his co-stars from Dhobi Ghat; Aamir Khan, Monica Dogra, a musician with Shair & Func before she became an actress, Kriti Malhotra and director Kiran Rao, he seemed rather out of place. While some vaguely recognised him and others couldn't get over the similarities with his mother, Smita Patil, I can only picture a young, irreverent, cool kid, swinging his legs outside an open window, in his 45-second but iconic debut in Jaane Tu Na...Jaane Na. It was a strong statement that he had arrived and didn’t really give a f**k about what the world deemed cool. It was about keeping it real.
“I just care about acting, man. The only space I’m looking at is good content. I want to try out every role there is on offer if the content is good.” Now on the sets of Gautam Menon’s Prem Katha, a remake of Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya, a Tamil movie, Prateik is jumping around and mouthing the lyrics for the music video in the film. While music videos aren’t a favourite with Gautam or with Prateik, the latter still seems to be having fun with it. Despite the searing sun, he does retakes without complaining, before spotting me in the crowd that’s gathered. Overjoyed that he’s got more than three of his friends on the set, he runs over during the break and puts me in a headlock for laughing throughout his shoot. Unbridled, he’s not one to hold back his emotions.

As we walk to his vanity van to complete the interview we abandoned a week ago, heپfs now pretending to be a Mexican from South Central Los Angeles. Last week he was physically and emotionally strung out thanks to a few questions thrown his way by a television channel, about his absence at events featuring his father and step-brother – his other family. Today, پfChicoپf and پeVatoپf replace his makeup manپfs name. Still full of energy and pacing about, heپfs adamant about sticking to his Spartan diet and decides to skip lunch to do the interview instead. Seated on the floor of the makeup van, he seems at home. For someone who lived vicariously through his parents' screen personas, this is a dream come true for him. پgOf course, I wished my parents on-screen personas was my reality.پh The son of the iconic Smita Patil and Raj Babbar, he grew up without them. Living with his motherپfs family, he never knew his beautiful mother, who passed away soon after he was born.

He didn't really see much of his father, who left him with his motherپfs parents, going back to live with his first wife, Nadira Zaheer and their two children. پgI am closer to my motherپfs side of the family. Theyپfre extremely sweet and would probably have a nice thing to say even if I made the crappiest films. Iپfm a lot closer to my parentپfs on-screen personas. I didn't know my mother and my dad is busier than ever with his political career now. I barely see him. But thatپfs true of anyone whose parents are in the industry. Itپfs nothing special, man.پh Itپfs not that this reality is insignificant to him. Aware of who he is and his lineage, heپfs dropped his second name and stays away from Aryaپfs and Juhiپfs massively sold premiere nights. Itپfs the only way he can break away and define who Prateik is sans the drama, excess baggage left behind, the پeoddپf comparison here and there – itپfs the only way he wonپft be confined to a space where he wasn't. Itپfs the only way he can be his own man.
Soft-spoken and briefly polite, he becomes boisterous and not-so-politically-correct when he gets comfortable, and he loves being the centre of attention. Itپfs not a self-defence mechanism; he isnپft a schmuck who dwells on his past for sympathy – itپfs what comes naturally to him considering where heپfs coming from. Fiercely protected by his aunts and grandmother, itپfs only in the past few years that this 24-year-old started watching his motherپfs films and those which starred both his parents in lead roles. Itپfs a deeply emotional process for him evidently – his voice softens and his eyes well up a bit when he talks about it. Itپfs a process though, that heپfs grown to love as a part of who he is.
Spending most of his life more like a ghost that the media occasionally whispered about, he was kept out of the limelight. He admits, پgI had an outsiderپfs perspective of the industry. I saw its ups and downs. I know what it takes to be here. Itپfs cool. Itپfs a lot of fun, now that Iپfm here.پh Growing up alone, thereپfs a part of him thatپfs proud of where heپfs from – his roots. پgBANDRA!پh the scream of solidarity to a certain suburb in Mumbai has the crowd outside briefly turn away from the skinny models chilling on the set. Theyپfre now staring at the black vanity van housing Bollywoodپfs next big thing. پgItپfs all good, Iپfm doing an interview. Donپft judge me,پh he jokes with an assistant who's come in to check on us.
Living in an apartment in the suburb, Prateik spends most of his watching his favourite sport, cricket. Like most of India’s youth, he grew up idolising Sachin, Sourav, Azhar, Dravid and the rest of the gang. “I wanted to be all of them. Sometimes I was Srinath, at others I was Venkatesh Prasad. I love the team now but I’m old school. I’m an all-rounder.” An avid cricketer, he claims to have started out like Harbhajan Singh playing the odd but useful cameo in every match he played. Winning – that’s all that mattered to him. It’s that eagerness to win that drives him in cinema, as well. It’s that eagerness to see his team win that had him locked up in his house alone on April 2, when India won the World Cup. It’s that eagerness, which made him cry when they did. “I captained the team in school and college occasionally. I didn’t try for the Mumbai team. Who knows? If I had, I may have been playing for the national team now.”

Pratiek babbar Photoshoot Making For 'The Man' Magazine.avi

noreply@blogger.com (neena) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 16:15:00 +0000

ROHITSHARMA COVERSHOOT FOR THE MAN MAGAZINE

noreply@blogger.com (neena) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 07:03:00 +0000

The Man JUNE'11
Section: Cover story
THE DARK PHOENIX SAGA
Unlike Jean Grey from the X-Men, he’s not risen out of the ashes villainous as ever. Indian Cricket’s biggest rediscovery in 2011, Rohit Sharma is calmer, fitter and cooler than ever before as he talks to Anand Chandy about money, girls, cars, critics and cricket, of course.
The Mumbai Indians put up a poor showing and receive a drubbing at the hands of the Deccan Chargers. Even by IPL standards, this performance is pathetic; worse because it’s two games in a row. Yet the jokes are in good spirit, “He’s done it on purpose to stay fresh for your cover shoot tomorrow,” say his team mates.
The first time I saw Rohit Sharma was during the Under-19 World Cup final in 2006. Touted as the next Sachin Tendulkar, I watched the tanned, pudgy youngster be bowled by a speeding Anwar Ali from Pakistan for just four runs off seven balls. In an hour, India’s Under-19 lose the finals to Pakistan.
Five years on, there is a renewed sense of pride courtesy India’s new victories, a World Cup no less after 28 years. Indian cricket reclaimed some sheen with their inaugural T-20 World Cup victory a few years ago where a swash-buckling Rohit Sharma smashed a quick 30 off 16 balls in the final against Pakistan pushing India to victory.
Rohit was a mild-mannered Mumbai boy, who took the local train from Borivili for his practice sessions, didn’t rip off his jersey or hurl abuses at his competitors and was sans tattoos. Rohit concentrated on letting his game do the talking for him. He faded in and out of the limelight, slumped out of form and returned, contributing consistently to the national team’s cause, yet never taking the full credit for it. “I wasn’t hungry enough,” he is alleged to have said. A statement he categorically contradicted when he walked into the studio to shoot for THE MAN.
Lean, fit and mature, albeit with a playfulness; articulate and firm, he knows what he wants and what suits him best. Gone are the full cheeks, the unkempt stubble and the round frame. Stunned by his sharp, yet rounded looks, the crew quickly reworks some preconceived notions about him. “I’m not used to being a model. So tell me what you want me to do and help me out,” says Rohit.
Unlike his team mate, Yuvraj Singh, Rohit isn’t flooded with endorsements. He spent the last three months sitting at home reinventing his physique and his persona. Working out at the gym, eating right and following a strict regime, he watched his team mates from the sidelines. His resurgent form last year, which helped him to career-best figures of 114 against Zimbabwe and consecutive 101s against Sri Lanka, weren’t enough. Neither was his T-20 79-run success against Australia or his decent bowling economy rate, which is a little above four runs an over. No. Rohit Sharma was dropped from the side in favour of his peers like Suresh Raina. “I watched the World Cup from home. I didn’t go to the stadium.”
Disappointed at not being selected to play the World Cup, he didn’t let that slow him down. Rohit’s mission is to cement his position in the team. “My seniors and mentors have told me that this is part of the game. The focus is not on getting selected. I just concentrate on playing the best I can,” he says.
Dressed in a waistcoat and a pink shirt, Rohit looks dapper in a fedora. “I’m a simple guy. I don’t have a great family background. Five years ago we weren’t well-off. My father is a retired employee of a transportation business, my mother a housewife. I am grateful to them. Especially my uncle, without whose support, I would never have attended the school that trained me.” Rohit had decided from the tender age of 10 that he wanted to play cricket. Without enough money to enrol himself into a school with strong cricket leanings, he would perhaps have remained just another kid with big dreams had it not been for his coach, Dinesh Lad, who spotted him playing and his uncle. At their insistence, he was enroled into Swami Vivekanand International School, Mumbai, on a scholarship.
“It’s totally different when you play for your country - everyone respects you. That feels great. When I was younger, there was none of that. Pressure was always part of the game. Whether you play for your club or the state it’s always there - you can’t run from it. The only way to overcome it is by scoring runs and always playing to the best of your ability.”
Starting out as a bowler at the age of seven, Rohit has come a long way. Auctioned off for Rs 20 lakh to the Mumbai Indians this year, he is overwhelmed by how much the cricket world values him. Consistent in the IPL and a one-time Orange Cap (for the highest run getter in the IPL) wearer in 2008, he was formerly retained by the Deccan Chargers for around Rs 3 crore.
From being a nobody five years ago, to living in the posh Bandra area in Mumbai and owning a swanky new BMW 5 and currently eyeing an Aston Martin, Sharma swears it isn’t the money that drives his passion to play cricket. “I’m a Mumbai boy and playing at home mattered more than the money that came in.”
Looking at the pics from the shoot, he’s rather impressed. He is right; he’s not a model nor an actor. He’s a sportsman, through and through. One coming to terms with his new-found popularity. “I read a lot of magazines but never imagined my face on a cover. I never thought I’d ever be in the limelight. Travelling to school by bus, magazines were what we passed our time with. I never imagined a whole new generation would be seeing my face on one of those very covers and reading about me on a bus somewhere.”
He chuckles as his childhood friend, Ajay, walks in. A sports agent now, Ajay says Rohit hasn’t changed but is still a fun loving prankster when the curtains come down. The star himself is candid about how much he likes to sit at home and chill out with his friends. “I have a PS3 and an awesome music system. My Mumbai team mates and friends come home and play FIFA with me and whoever wins gets to take home some sort of gift. We make small bets on the games.” Rohit can also be found dancing away to hip hop or enjoying himself at the clubhouse poolside near his home. Maybe this is what keeps him calm and his head screwed so firmly onto his shoulders.
“Calmness is natural to me.” Whether it was patiently partnering Sachin with a 66 against Australia in the CB series final at Sydney in 2007, or smashing the Chennai bowling attack of 87 runs for 48 balls with Andrew Symonds by his side, Rohit can play both the biffer and the blocker with the same ease and composure. Without advertising himself yet disarming his fans and critics alike, this calmness percolates into his everyday affairs, as well.
This is in evidence when I talk about the IPL’s bastardisation of cricket. I get a logical and quiet putting-down. “T-20 is just a format. You don’t play cricket to entertain. You play for yourself, your country and your team. You go out to make sure your team wins. You play to bring pride to your team. Whether people get entertained or not is secondary. I also party as hard as I play. Why not? If I perform well on the field, I can do whatever I want away from it.”
Not one to get emotional about a win or a loss, he’s guarded. “Why should the opposition know what I’m thinking. I let my cricket do the talking. In a country where even Sachin is criticised despite his achievements, this helps in real life, too.” It’s this part of Rohit's nature that has perhaps saved him from being linked to starlets and models. The woman he’s looking for would need to match these characteristics. Actually, he thinks that the Indian team is full of eligible, handsome bachelors – them first, then him.
Averaging at over 134.0 (the highest batting average in IPL IV) and being the fifth highest run-scorer with something in the range of 1,500 runs until halfway into the IPL, he is excited about a return to the Indian team and his upcoming tour in the West Indies. Looking at a fresh start to his career, Rohit’s not even banking on his past 61 ODI appearances, 1,248 runs, the triple century he hit in the Ranji against Gujarat or his batting average of about 30 runs an innings. Like the phoenix, he's looking to rise from the ashes and showcase his current form. He’s also looking foward to that long-awaited holiday in Miami.
In a country where time, tide, cricket, fan followings and sadly the traffic wait for no man, I have a feeling that Shane Warne’s prediction is going to come true. Rohit could definitely be India’s next big thing.
This time he’s probably going to be back for good.
ends
Shoot Credits
Photos: Saurabh Dua
Styling: Megha Monga Anand
Hair & Makeup: Bianca