Unimportant Insignificant Stuff

Dev Anand

2011-12-04T04:08:00.002-05:00

I was in the third standard when I first watched CID. When the movie finished I told my father to play it all over again, I was mesmerized by the movie and I had also become a Dev Anand fan.

For me Dev Anand was the most handsome man in Bollywood. But it was not just his looks, his charm and his beautiful smile that made him so special I loved his films too. My all time favorite Hindi film is ‘The Guide’ but I will come to it later. Dev Anand’s films were often brave, something most people don’t realize. Here is my list of favorite Dev Anand films.

Let me start with Bambai ka Babu. It’s a story of a man who takes on another man’s identity and starts living his life. Unfortunately, he falls in love with the man’s sister. It’s a rare movie where you see discomfort and tension between the lead couple, hero’s actions predicted as incest when he tells his ‘sister’ that he wants her to love him like a man and finally the tragic ending. It’s a beautiful, poignant and brave film.

Next comes the lighthearted Teen Deviyan about one man’s relationship with three women. We are talking of a time when Bollywood actors were all like Romeos they were so sure of their choice that extremely attractive vamps and ‘other’ women systematically failed to seduce them. It is this very ‘Ram’ like one-woman man who was the ideal Bollywood hero. In Teen Deviyan we see a confused humane hero who is clearly flattered by the attention he gets from beautiful women. He can’t make up his mind, they are all so beautiful, accomplished and he loves them all. Tell me how many heroes have been this honest? Don’t tell me Sashi Kapoor because he usually landed up with two women either by chance or sheer foolishness and like Dev Saab he never admitted to loving them all.

I will now jump to Tere Mere Sapne where Dev Saab gave us our first anti-hero. It’s the story of a doctor totally committed to serving the poor but gets allured by the world of riches and glamour. Of course, he is not exactly the anti-hero as returns back to his roots once he realizes his mistake but it’s an excellent film that probes into grey zones. Before this not too many films showed the leading man openly abusing his domestic and social space simply because he is drawn to a world so unlike his own.

Another brilliant film that Dev Anand gave us was Hare Krishna Hare Ram . Again, a great depiction of dysfunctional families and the Hippie cult on the backdrop makes this movie an all time classic.

Then comes my all time favorite film The Guide. Where can I start? Today when we are so taken up with films that help us do ‘soul searching’ by taking a trip to Spain and hurling tomatoes at each other Dev Saab showed us how a man lost everything and found his soul. No movie understood the journey of self better than the Guide. It is only by chance that Raju Guide is mistaken for a mendicant and eventually this mistake becomes his identity. The last scene when Raju’s body is dying but his spirit feels happy and free is one of the most moving scenes in the history of cinema. As I said describing the Guide is difficult it is a movie one has to experience.

Then there are the usual favorites House No.44, Kalabazaar, Jaali Note, Solva Saal, Hum Dono, Johnny Mera Naam, Jewel Thief and Heera Panna.

We all know his recent films were not particularly great but the man loved to make films. People made fun of him all the time but Dev Saab was a good sport he loved his work and loved his life. One of my Professors told me that when Dev Anand shot in Deccan College people were surprised by the amount of hard work he did and his sheer energy. Also, he had absolutely no attitude of a star. He was a humble, down to earth man. Yes, Dev Saab was a true gentleman. I was deeply moved when I read his autobiography this summer. I followed him on Twitter and realized what a kind, gentle and good human being he was. This is one celebrity whose departure has left a vacuum in me. We know you are in a better place Dev Saab and we are thankful to you for all the cheer and happiness you gave us. We will miss you Mr. Funtoosh. Miss you a lot.

The Story of Halloween

2011-10-31T02:27:00.006-04:00

Here is a completely fictional folklore of how Halloween started. There is absolutely no truth in it, in fact feel free to call it a complete balderdash.

Calling the Rockwood house haunted would have been an understatement. First of all there was the headless monk walking around the house. He showed up just after the sunset roaming around the garden. He was of course searching for his head. Then those wailing Banshees by the lake, old man Simon had seen three of them. Voices came from the wall even during broad daylight. One room had a poltergeist that rearranged the furniture all day and threw stones at night. The living area was haunted by numerous spirits three children, an old man and two young men. The attic belonged to a young woman who wrote letters all day. Needless to say everyone left the house alone, so, the ghosts lived there undisturbed. And anyway how could they be disturbed? If you ever went near the house accidentally the Banshees would yell & the poltergeist would hurl gigantic stones at the visitor. At night there was light in the attic where the apparition of a lady kept writing her her letters. The poltergeist fiddled with the lights continuously, & the headless monk often used some strange ghostly light to search for his head.

How did Rockwood house become like this?

Once upon a time there was Mr. Rockwood, his wife, three children, the senior Mr. Rockwood and the hired help consisting of the scullery maid, the cook & the farmhand. The Rockwoods could not afford any more servants. It was their diminishing fortune that made them move to this house after selling their estate, clearing their debts this house was all that was left. They did manage to live comfortably because they still had a small income but this was not the kind of life they were used to. Mrs. Rockwood hated being tucked away in the country, old Mr. Rockwood missed his friends and bridge evenings but it was worst for Mr. Rockwood. He was the failure of the family. It was because of his irresponsible business decisions that they lost everything they had & now all that was there was this miserable country life. The children however, were not as unhappy as the rest. They played by the lake, walked in the woods and the old lady in the market taught them how to make dolls.

The old lady and her daughter owned a shop in the village, a unique shop of handmade dolls. These dolls were special, very special. Each doll had a name, a distinct face and came with their very own suitcase that contained their clothes and nightclothes. The old lady did not sell her dolls to anyone she would make sure that you treated her dolls well. The dolls were expensive so the children only had one. Her name was Anna, she had jet-black hair, her features were delicate, she had a gentle look in her brown eyes. She wore a beautiful white frock with red flowers in it. Her suitcase was black with three sets of clothing, hairbrush and her special pillow. Everyone in the house loved Anna, her soothing face made people forget their petty troubles and eased their mind. The old lady told them ‘Bring Anna as often as you can to the shop she will get lonely without her friends. So, once a week they took Anna to the shop and the old lady took her inside where her friends were while the kids then played with the other dolls. One day the old lady asked the children if they wanted to learn how to make the dolls. All three were very excited, she took them in her workshop asked them to sit and brought them cakes and tea. ‘Ok, let’s start from today then.’

Clara made her first doll. She was beautiful, actually the doll looked a lot like her but still it seemed incomplete. The doll had a beautiful blue frock very much like Clara’s favorite frock but something seemed amiss. Unlike the other dolls this doll lacked life. There was no definite expression on her face; she seemed commonplace, like ordinary dolls. She asked the old lady why her doll did not look like other dolls. ‘You need to give it a spirit my girl. Every doll here has a spirit. Like your Anna has the spirit of the kind-hearted schoolteacher Anna Lau. You have to trap a spirit in them, remember no bad spirits from anywhere but the spirit of a very good girl just like you or your little sister or even your brother.’

‘How do I put the spirit in?’ Clara had no idea what the old lady was saying. ‘You just have to visit the realm of the spirits & get one for your doll. They say it’s beautiful out there’, replied the old lady with a smile in her face. Clara looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t understand anything that you say. Spirits can come only from the dead, isn’t it? I mean we die & some of us become spirits. Right?’ The old lady looked displeased ‘That’s what they tell you but it’s far from the truth. You see, like we live in this world the spirits too live here, only we can’t see them & they can’t see us. But they are all here & their world is as colorful as ours. I will teach you a little incantation my girl, take the doll, press it against your heart & repeat it thrice. Tomorrow is a very special night, it’s that one night of the year when the realm of the spirits will open up & you will find a spirit for your doll.

That night right after midnight when everyone was asleep Clara quietly took out the doll from her bag. She tiptoed to the empty room where her father worked. She kissed the doll & held it close to her heart & slowly started chanting what the old lady had taught her.

Yes, that’s how it all started. Clara had forgotten a part of the incantation, the realm opened but the spooks could not go back. The spooks came out & never went back. So, even today the Rockwood house remains so badly haunted all the time. The Rockwoods had to leave the house. Who could put up with those endless numbers of spooks? Clara never told anyone what had actually happened but she knew she had started it all. What she did not know that the old lady had lied to her. It was Clara’s chant that opened the spirit realm and the two worlds that should have never met, met. It happened on October 31^st.

The old lady she still has the shop but no one knows what she does anymore. They tell me the shop closed down a year back. But remember now no matter what you do the spirit realm will open on 31^st October every year. The spooks will come out & walk in your world. You must confuse them, when they see that their world & our world is the same they go back. And yes sometimes the spooks don’t go back and that’s how some places become ‘haunted’.

Roma’s Story

2011-08-19T01:16:00.009-04:00

The attempt here is to write a typical old wives tale and not a regular scary story.

This is the story of Shukla family; it’s a very popular story in these parts. I don’t know if it’s true but people tell it to their kids all the time. It is about Roma Shukla the newly wed bride of the younger Shukla son. Within a week of her marriage Roma realized that she had married into a very strange family. Well, as such there was nothing wrong with them they went to work, came home ate dinner watched T.V, it was a pleasant enough family but every Sunday they sat with the Ouija board and called spirits to chit chat with. At least that’s how it seemed to an outsider and then they also carried out some strange rituals. From the very beginning Roma refused to be a part of this and was never forced to participate. So, every Sunday Roma would go to either her parent’s place or visit a friend and she came back home late night after their crazy rituals were over.

Soon she realized that not participating in the rituals had isolated her. The family seemed to share a very special bonding and she was not a part of it.

One Sunday she came home and found the family distraught. That evening their rituals had gone terribly wrong. It turned out that for the past few Sundays things had not been ‘normal’. Her sister in law even subtly indicated that ever since Roma arrived their rituals were not going the way they wanted. In fact, after Roma’s arrival their rituals were continuously interrupted but Roma did not react to the comment she knew they wanted her to feel guilty for staying away from their crazy rituals.

After a year of her marriage she realized she did not belong to the family at all. Everyone was distinctly cold to her. Her husband hardly talked to her or showed any warmth. She was gradually excluded from all the family conversations. They would stop laughing or talking when she entered. They went to a weekend picnic without her and gave her a lame reason like the place was spooky and she would not like it. The situation kept getting worse and soon no one in the family spoke to her. They would reply to her questions in monosyllables and even eat their dinners without her. Roma tried her best to go out of her way to do things for them but nothing was of any avail.

It was a full moon night and Roma Shukla had terrible nightmares. She dreamt that the china figurine of the young girl in their living room had a sinister expression as if she wanted to say something to her. Roma slept badly that night and at 4 she was wide-awake. She decided to go to the kitchen and make herself a cup of tea. As she was boiling water she saw a light in what she secretly called the hocus-pocus room. She decided to take a look. Inside she saw her mother in law sitting and chanting from a book. Her hair was disheveled, she had smeared her forehead with turmeric & vermillion and she rocked to and fro as she chanted the mantra. The china figurine that Roma had dreamt of was in front of her. Roma stood watching her for a sometime but her mother in law did not see her she was completely oblivious to the surroundings.
Roma drank her tea, made a jam sandwich and started reading a book. After an hour her mother in law came out and she was totally startled to see Roma. ‘You? What are you doing at this hour? You find it tough to even get up at 7.30. What’s wrong? Are you all right?’
‘What were you reading Maaji? I saw how absorbed you were I went in but you never realized.’ ‘It’s not your cup of tea Roma, we all know how you feel about our family traditions. I don’t think you will understand’, her mother in law replied sarcastically. ‘Try me because I want to know I had a nightmare of the china figurine you were worshipping which is why I got up. Is it some god?’ Roma asked. ‘Yes, the figurine is very special we bought it for a very special spell.’ Roma noticed a strange gleam in the old woman’s eyes. ‘Spell? What kind of spell?’ Roma now felt her stomach tightening. It couldn’t be what she was thinking. Were they black magicians? Was it a spell to kill her? ‘You will find out soon Roma’ her mother in law smiled. Soon all the family members came out of their rooms there was a strange sparkle in their eyes. They all started circling Roma and her Mother in law held the doll. Roma begun to cry ‘Please let me go I have done you no harm. Please I promise I will never come back I beg of you.’ She noticed the china figurine’s face had become her face. Roma fell at her mother in law’s feet and cried bitterly ‘Please, please let me go I have done you no harm. Spare my life’. ‘I married you because we needed a fresh body for our spells sorry darling.’ the answer came from her husband. They all began to chant, Roma tried to run but an invisible force held her tight and slowly her mother in law gingerly touched the figurine to her head and just as she was about to begin the ritual the statue exploded. Roma looked up and a horrible stench filled the room. Roma had turned into a horrible apparition it was the most ferocious face they had ever seen. The apparition grew and grew till it covered the entire house. Shukla's neighbor later said that he distinctly saw a a gigantic face swallowing the Bungalow.

The death of the Shuklas remain a mystery. They were found in a circle looking up at the sky and the fear in their eyes was indescribable. Only Roma Shukla was missing and she was never found again.

What happened after that? The story actually ends here. But do you know what they say? Be very careful while casting a dark spell because you may cast it on a very powerful witch and get back five times of what you cast. You may not know but there are very powerful witches who travel from place to place punishing the wicked and protecting the weak.

Some More Bollywood Movies You May Have Missed

2011-07-30T22:57:00.008-04:00

The post contains spoilers.
After watching N.A Ansari’s ‘Wahan ke Log’ I became a bit philosophical. I have only one life to live & the purpose of my life is to be happy. True happiness can never come by being selfish; happiness is in sharing and caring for others. So, here is one more post on Bollywood films you may have missed. I have tried not to stick to any particular genre but none of the films are love stories. There are thrillers, horror and science fiction to make this a rather eclectic post.

Mangal Sutra: There are several films of this name but I am talking of the one with Rekha and Anant Nag. For those of you who shamelessly & baselessly accused Vikram Bhatt of copying from ‘What Lies Beneath’, think twice. First of all Raaz was anything but a copy, the story was completely different and just because faintly similar incidents happen you yell out ‘Copy, copy’. This isn’t your fault, colonial mindset has made you like that. Have you ever thought that ‘What lies beneath’ could be a ‘Hollywoodized’ version of an Indian film?
Madan Puri and Om Shivpuri are childhood friends whose kids love each other. Madan Puri’s daughter is Rekha the gorgeous village belle and Anant Nag, Shivpuri’s son is the urbane educated rich boy. There is no hindrance to their marriage except that Om Shivpuri is way too greedy and he wants a fat dowry. And as the dowry matter was being pursued I was disappointed & I contemplated watching another film when this dowry bit was dropped like a hot potato and the two got married. As Rekha and Nag are about to consummate their marriage Nag gets possessed by a spirit. Initially doctors are called but Nag is so badly possessed that nothing can be done. Rekha now decides to confront the spirit and the spirit announces that she wants revenge. The spirit is Prema Narayan who claims that she was a college friend of Anant Nag who he had raped and had then promised to marry her. They even exchanged rings as a sign of commitment but he had jilted her & forced her to commit suicide. The spirit even shows the ring she had given him. But Nag has a different story to tell. It seems he was the college chick magnet and Prema Narayan was head over heels in love with him. One night she comes to his house and tries to seduce him but fails. She leaves in anger and says she would never leave him. Outside his house a truck smashes her but just before dying in the hospital she makes Anant Nag keep the ring saying that was her last wish. This of course shows totally planned and well executed haunting. While the audience is convinced that the ghost is telling the truth turns out Nag’s story is correct, he is chick magnet and all that. Finally, the power of Rekha’s Mangal Sutra drives the spirit off. I can understand if you say that Vikram Bhatt was perhaps inspired by this movie but Raaz had nothing to do with What Lies Beneath, always remember that.

Red Rose: In my last post on Bollywood movies I had urged you to watch Rajesh Khanna’s Red Rose. Please watch the movie, but if you don’t want to let me try and tempt you. Kaka is a rich man who for some reason lives in a really grotesquely decorated house. Red sofa, pink walls, bizarre wallpapers, red curtains, he has weird staff namely Om Shivpuri, the gardener who loves to grow red roses. One day Kaka spots Poonam Dhillon a salesgirl and rather candidly starts sexually harassing her. Since this is Kaka the girl is not at all appalled by the Middle Aged man’s advances and is extremely happy when he says he is in love with her. Kaka then clarifies his concept of love, he wants to do Poonam. Poonam agrees to it but only after Kaka marries her, brings her to his strange house and as he is showing her around the lady inquires about a locked room. Kaka tells Poonam the room has nothing of consequence some old documents, files etc. Just as Kaka is about to get what he wants finally a phone call comes and Kaka has to leave.
Meanwhile bored being alone in the house Poonam starts to explore and it gets way too interesting for her. It starts with Kaka’s black cat who likes to drink blood and then heavy rains show that there is a woman’s corpse buried in Kaka’s garden, as it rains a hand pops out. Poonam then enters the mystery room and Kaka had engraved his entire life story on the wall. When Kaka was a teenager (played by Mayur) his stepmother used to beat him regularly. He runs away from home and finds a job in another village where his chores amongst other things include washing the undergarments of his employer’s daughter. Now the sight of a teenager washing her bra makes the daughter of the household very horny. She tries to molest Kaka but as she is about to do it the parents return and she blames the situation on Kaka. Kaka once again homeless finds another house in the city where the lady of the house cheats on her husband. Upon finding out the husband kills the wife and young Kaka is delighted he yells ‘Aisi aurton ke saath aisa hi hona chahiye’. (This should happen to whores like these). The husband turned murderer (Satyen Kappu) decides to adopt Kaka and raises him to be a serial killer (if you don’t believe me watch it). So, Kaka becomes a successful businessman and a serial killer who only kills ‘loose women’. Poonam naturally freaks out and realizes she is next but Poonam is mistaken, Kaka is in love with her because she is not a ‘loose woman’ but it’s too late. Ponam becomes the whistle blower and Kaka is caught. In the end Kaka goes gaga. But the movie raises many very serious questions. For example, in the end Poonam Dhillon says Kaka may be an insane serial killer but she still wants to be his wife and pray for him to get well and so that they can live happily ever after…& no she is not declared insane. Also, as a trophy Kaka keeps the bras of his victims. When we see bras are shown we can’t help but wonder whether Kaka was killing them for their character or their bra. All his victims have the exact same bra. As I said questions, serious questions.

Trip to Moon: India is all set to go to the moon. Our best astronaut Dara Singh is ready but the night before the rocket is to be launched fairies from the moon start appearing. They seduce our scientists (starting with Moni Chaterjee) and take them to the moon. Why? Because they don’t want earthlings to soil their beautiful perfect world. So, Dara Singh and Bhawan Dada (Dara’s best friend) are kidnapped by the moon fairy Shimoga and taken to the moon. On their way to the moon Shimoga’s spaceship is attacked by the evil king of Mars (played by Anwar Hussain) who is in love with Shimoga and Dara saves Shimoga’s life. Shimoga is in love with Dara and as he reaches the moon plenty of moon fairies fall in love with him. Dara and Bhagwan are kept in captivity but Dara escapes and then there is a full-scale galactic warfare with the evil king of Mars. To add to the confusion Bhagwan has a twin alien brother who is the right hand of the evil Mars king. If you have watched Dara Singh’s movies you will know that Dara Singh is a very innocent man. He doesn’t know anything about love and sex. So like every other movie in this movie too the moon fairy Shimoga spends a lot of time explaining to Dara what love is. In the end of course the wicked Mars King is defeated, there is peace in the galaxy & aliens and humans live in perfect harmony.

Ek Anhonee: I feel the apt name for this movie should have been ‘Anek Anhonee’ but never mind let’s go on with the story. There is a genius financial planner who has it all… looks, money, glamour and a bungalow in Khandala. He plans a meeting with a client in Khandala and as he is driving there he bumps into a super sexy girl whose car has broken down. The girl is none other than Mauli Dave and it turns out she is the same client he is going to meet. They travel together and as expected by the time they reach it’s late and he asks her to stay in his house. She agrees but in no time discovers the house is horribly haunted. The spook wants Mauli to carry out an inquisition. The cool guy has way too many secters. It turns out that the spook is his wife who had died in a car accident. Ok, Mauli goes back to get some rest but no not enough the ghost haunts her again and asks her to investigate more. Ok, the wife was cheating on him because he had gotten too busy with his career one day she was driving with her lover and when a truck hit their car. Mauli tries to again catch some sleep but alas again, not enough spook now scares her with more intensity and throws a diary at her. Turns out the wife had decided to go away with her lover and this guy followed them and smashed them to a pulp under his truck. However, I told you before this movie is anek anhonee. When he was smashing his wife’s car there was another car coming from the opposite direction and he killed the passenger in that car as well. And Mauli Dave was the girl he had killed, ya she came back for revenge. Mauli is also a ghost…BOO.

Mallika: This is my personal favorite recent movie. This movie is a perfect tribute to the Ramsay Brothers. It even has a cameo by Anirudh Agrawal and he is called Samri. To escape the haunting in her house Sheena Nayyar goes to a fort in Rajasthan for a holiday. On the way she befriends Samir Dattani and the two fall in love. But alas, the fort is way more haunted than her house. Soon guests start dying mysteriously and a spirit of a woman urges Sheena to dig up old graves. Sheena obeys and uncovers the story of the owner of the fort. The owner of the fort was Mallika who and Sheena is Mallika’s humshakal (look alike). She was married to Mamik. Mamik had married Mallika for money, he tortures her and then kills her brutally. Spirit of Mallika now wants him here and wants revenge. But the spirit of Mallika is a bit odd while she totally confides in her look alike she uses the body of Samir Dattani to complete her revenge. The film actively raises a lot of questions, yes the narrator actually asks ‘Why did Mallika kill people who had nothing to do with her death?’ ‘Why did Mallika use Sameer’s body when a look alike was available? Will Mallika be born again, if yes how will she look?’ But in the end the film announces that it can’t answer these questions because Kudrat (nature) is much greater than this film and riddles of nature can’t be solved.

Wahan ke Log: I did save the best for the last. When people raved so much about Rakesh Roshan’s ‘Koi Mil Gaya’ no one realized that N.A Ansari and T.P Sundaram (Trip to Moon) had beaten him eons back in this alien theme. Aliens (Wahan ke Log) come down from Mars in flying saucers and steal diamonds from rich men. If they try to act smart they are shot with laser guns. There is a scientist called Prof. Chakravarthy (played by Ansari himself) who claims that he had made a machine through which he can communicate with the aliens. Chakravarthy’s son Anil (once again Ansari, YEAH) is an evil genius who has a machine by which he can control everyone who works for him. You see if you work for Anil all he asks you is to wear a special locket of the ‘syndicate’. Once you wear the locket Anil can see everything you do sitting in his lab. Anil’s right hand is Margaret (and yes as you have guessed played by Nilofer) & together they seem to blow up cars and keep bragging as to how evil they are. But Anil has only one threat a brilliant secret agent played by Pradeep Kumar. Wait, I get it you are shell shocked. But let me once again explain to you the complex mind of N.A Ansari. Do you remember Big B’s famous line from Chupke Chupke ‘Kabhi kabhi do baatein na hue bhi ho jati hai, jo nahi hoti hai woh kabhi kabhi hoke bhi…’ (Sometimes few things don’t happen but the still happen and what doesn’t happen that can happen..) You see N.A Ansari’s films are a bit like this riddle. Whenever you think you comprehend, you don’t. Initially you think it’s a science fiction, then you think this is probably a thriller but soon your entire perception thrill and mystery is shattered when you see Pradeep Kumar as a dashing secret agent. The guy barely moves and is extremely somber also he seems utterly disoriented but that’s probably got to do with the fact that a beautiful woman (Tanuja) is haunting him. Yes, as people from Mars steal diamonds and you think Pradeep Kumar’s job is solving the Mars mystery the poor man has a spooky experience when he falls for a girl who he realizes is the 200 year old ghost of a princess. Meanwhile Anil kills his father, dresses up as his father and continuously humiliates Pradeep Kumar. Poor Pradeep Kumar even Johnny Walker makes fun of him but things turn out ok for him when he discovers that Tanuja is not a ghost and she was testing his true love. Just as poor Pradeep Kumar wants to marry and settle down Tanuja and her father are abducted by Martians. Pradeep Kumar then moves about like a headless chicken and Johnny Walker finally manages to fathom the mystery. You see N.A Ansari had an island near Mumbai. From the island he controlled spaceships that went and stole diamonds from rich men in Mumbai. The Martians were robots designed by him and he used to kill his opponents with laser gun. Ansari’s brilliant project was being funded by an enemy country but only due to sheer misfortune he is caught. As he tries to escape to the enemy territory Pradeep Kumar manages to catch him and Ansari is shot in the process. While dying he sums up the entire movie in one line ‘Meri koi aakhiri khwaish nahi hai sirf shikayat hai. Faltu admi zinda rehte hai aur kabil, kabil mar jaate hai’ (I don’t have any last wish but just a complaint. Useless people live and capable ones just die).

I apologize for my lousy translation of Big B’s line from Chupke Chupke but I hope the basic idea is understood.

Not Your Regular Bollywood Thrillers

2011-07-17T04:13:00.022-04:00

The post contains spoilers

All of you know the big Bollywood mysteries and thrillers. I could of course write on my favorites like Itefaq, Bees Saal Baad, Woh Kaun Thi, Parwana, Gupt, Kanoon, Jewel thief, Humraaz (old one) ok I can go on and on. These are immensely popular movies. But what about the unknown gems? So, here is a list of few movies that most of you may not have watched.

Kaala Admi: Don’t go by the name. This movie has nothing to do with racial prejudice. The name refers to a mysterious individual dressed in black. The purpose of this movie is to reiterate a well-established fact. Ashok Kumar is the chic magnet of Bollywood. Nutan drops handsome young Dharmendra to rush to ailing Dadamoni in Bandini, In Mahal Madhubala & Ranjana just pine and die for him, women can’t resist Dadamoni and this happens in Kaala Admi too. A beautiful young heiress played by Shyama has many suitors including Mehmood but she shuns them all. For her heart belongs to an artist played by Dadamoni who repeatedly tells her that he is way too old for her. But like every other woman she insists ‘Pooja bhi toh badhon ki jaati hai, main sirf tumhari hoon’. (You can only revere elders, I belong to you.) But mysterious baddies try to kill Ashok Kumar, they fail but the man loses his eyesight. Yet Shyama insists on marrying the blind old man, so strong is the magic of Dadamoni. But the main question the film raises is who is this Kaala Admi? Who blinded Dadamoni? Who Killed Rita (played by Nilofer) the only witness? Who is the figure who instructs only through gesture & never speaks. I loved the solution, the Kaala Admi is not a man it’s Shyama’s evil twin who dresses up like a man and wants to kill good Shyama and live her life. The movie ends abruptly when the evil twin is shot and Ashok Kumar gets back his eyesight in a jiffy. This movie makes to my list simply because of the title and how the Kaala Admi is none other than gorgeous Shyama.

Tower House: N.A Ansari is the only reason why this film made it on my list. If you don’t know who he is it’s time you did. He is responsible for murder mysteries like Lighthouse, Black Cat, Mr. Murder, Wahan ke Log & so on. He always played the negative role in his films but besides his own films he has acted in several others. The beauty of N.A Ansari film is that what you perceive to be a mystery is actually not a mystery. Let me try and explain. Tower House revolves round a haunted tower. The spirit of Shakila’s mother who had killed herself from there haunts the tower. You will think that the dad may have some hand in the death but the moment you see S.N Banerjee playing the father you know it’s not him. Then there are cops who suspect that something is wrong with the tower so you will assume the movie is about the mystery of the tower. No, it isn’t. It is about a mysterious stranger with an eye patch (played by N.A Ansari) who comes from Africa. This stranger is an old friend of the family and despite being the father’s friend makes lewd comments at Shakila who is engaged to Ajit. Now you will think it is about the mystery of the stranger. Wrong again, stranger dies, he is killed by a tiger when they go on a hunt. As you are trying to work out what the film is about all the mysteries end together. N.A Ansari is the bad guy who had trapped Shakila’s mother and used to throw dummies from the tower to scare people. Why? Ansari is not interested in answering these mundane questions instead he focuses on the big picture. Whenever you settle and think ok this is the mystery…he proves you wrong. Do watch his films, I find them extremely comforting and fresh. Ah! I forgot to add once again Nilofer plays the role of Miss Mary here. In most mystery movies Nilofer always played the Anglo-Indian girl either Rita, Mary or Lily.

C U at 9: Have you ever had the urge to bang your head against the wall and tear your hair? No! Then watch this movie, trust me it’s a magic. Once you have sat through this you may even have death wish. It’s the desi version of the Japanese thriller Audition. If you have watched ‘Audition’ you will know how disturbing the film is. Audition will make you sick, push your limits while you may not like the film you have to grudgingly admit it’s a very well made movie. C U at 9 is about a young man receiving mysterious calls from a girl who wants to see him at 9. Initially he refuses but later agrees to meet her in a shady joint. He falls in love with the girl who is the very symbol of innocence & as they are falling in love you want to get up and strangle both of them but you wait since it’s a murder mystery and someone will get killed. Killing happens only in the end when the crazy girl hacks her lover to pieces. I am adding this movie as only a warning. Don’t watch this one. I have never before urged anyone to not watch a movie but this one is pure suffering. The purpose of including the name of this film is purely altruistic, I want to save you.

Khoon Khoon: I am a huge Mahendra Sandhu fan. Smashing, dashing man Mahendra Sandhu! The cool hairstyle, the charm, the fantastic clothes he wore…pure enchantment. Khoon Khoon is a cat & mouse tale between a super cop & a serial killer played by Danny. The story starts with the horrible childhood of Danny where his parents torture him & Danny is all messed up. But there is an interesting angle to his serial killing. His victims are random and he shoots them in sniper style. He starts by killing Faryal (who plays the role of a dancer), then an old man and then a child. I have to admit Danny is the strangest serial killer I have ever seen. Danny then abducts a future victim (Padma Khanna) and keeps her with him to satiate his lust. All through the film you will think that at a point they will go back to Danny’s childhood since the film starts from that point and look for more answers to his behavior. But Danny is no Rajesh Khanna of Red Rose, so he is simply killed in the end by Sandhu. And if you haven’t watched Red Rose please do. Imagine Kaka as a serial killer…no you can’t imagine so just watch the movie.

Agent Vinod: I wish Saif’s Agent Vinod is a carbon copy of this one. It’s my favorite Mahendra Sandhu movie. Sandhu was born to play the role of a secret agent. An Indian scientist (played by Nasir Hussain) had made a machine that can deactivate extremely powerful bombs. He is kidnapped by Iftekar and company but he has hidden the formula. Agent Vinod with the help of his daughter (Asha Sachdev) saves the nation and restores peace. Sandhu is so good as Agent Vinod that in the movie Jagdeep is called 007, really the charm of Sandhu makes 007 look comical. But that’s not all in this film Asha Sachdev lives under the guise of a male taxi driver to hide from the baddies and search for her father. You heard me right Asha Sachdev as a man. I shall not explain why that is odd, think.

Swaha: This film is a tribute to N.A Ansari. This brilliant movie would have been a masterpiece had they recast the lead pair (Rikkee & Svetlana). They had a small part but even those few minutes were difficult to endure. As I said it’s a tribute to Ansari. It starts with Irshat Ali (our dear Lambu Atta) dressed very much like Guru Ravi Shankar and is surrounded by followers. The background narration convinces you that the film is a statement on superstition and godmen. But in no time it becomes the story of a haunted house. The Guru visits his disciples new Bungalow and witnesses terrible haunting. Then it becomes the story of a haunted house and people start dying. So, you think it’s a ghost story, you are further assured when Rajesh Vivek arrives to trap the evil spirit. But no, the spirits are not evil they are spirits of three girls who had killed themselves because they fear their father’s creditors will rape them. Hmmm…but then again you are confused when the hero starts beating up the father of the dead girls and blames him for all the evil. And amidst all the confusion the hero’s father is about to die. He is saved by ‘Mata Rani’s’ blessings and is free for superstitions forever. Meanwhile the Guru is also killed by a running truck. To admire this movie you need to focus on the big picture just like Ansari’s films. Don’t focus on minor details it is a broad canvas, a multi-thematic plot.

Elaan: Not Vikram Bhatt’s with Prabhuji as a villain, not Akki’s and Madhu’s action flick. This is Vinod Mehra’s Elaan where he plays an upright journalist turned into a CBI agent due to circumstances. You need to watch this movie with lot of concentration, it is full of fabulous moments. Let me tell you one of them. Jagirdar plays the role of Professor of Mesmerism, a man who can seduce any girl whenever he wants to but complains to Madan Puri that his students are so unattractive that he doesn’t want to use his skills. This movie is Ali Baba’s cave with endless treasures.

Chandi Sona: Treasure brings me to my next movie. It’s a straight forward treasure hunt adventure led by Sanjay Khan and Pran. There is enormous treasure hidden under the tomb of King Chandi Sona and legend has it that if anyone took the treasure the king's spirit will curse them. But Pran and Sanjay dig a tunnel with the help of Danny, Ranjeet, Asrani, Paintal, Mukri and Hercules. There are not too many Bollywood films on treasure hunt so this one is a fun watch. Mukri plays a gay guy attracted to Hercules, he even makes lewd comments at Pran. Coming to think of it the movie did have a fascination for male bodies, while Parveen Babi is clothed we continuously see Danny in bare minimum clothing and finally there is an item number by Raj Kapoor…

Parde Ke Peeche: : A haunted mansion where people die mysteriously. It belongs to rich man Raj Mehra who lives in the city. Work and bad reputation of the mansion brings him to the mansion accompanied by Vinod Mehra who is his son’s friend. At night Raj mehra witnesses terrible haunting and rushes back home but his son (surprisingly played by Suresh who is perhaps older than him), his nephew (Pran) and their friend (Jagdeep) want to fathom the mystery. So the four men come to find out if the mansion is really haunted or not. Meanwhile Vinod Mehra falls in love with the cook played by Yogeeta Bali (who btw makes her son’s acting look like Naseeruddin Shah’s performance) and there is also Bindu who comes to live in the mansion because goons attacked her and Suresh had rescued her. The haunting is primarily a beautiful girl singing and few things moving. But then one day Pran is murdered. Pran of course is a drunk debauch who tries to rape everyone and Vinod Mehra is arrested for his murder since Pran had attempted to molest Yogeeta. Now forget the details, Vinod and Bindu are CBI agents. So what’s the mystery? An escaped criminal had hidden in the house and he had built a lab in the basement. Through his lab he controlled the windows, moved furniture and even created the illusion of the dancing girl. He gained entry in the house by dressing as a priest. But he did not kill Pran, then who did? That’s exactly why this movie makes to my list. Jagdeep. Jagdeep had a sister who Pran raped and she killed herself so this revenge angle. This again is a movie that will leave behind a long trail of conundrums but Jagdeep as the murderer is cool. Another movie where the comedian was the murderer was Jeetendra and Rekha’s Jal Mahal.

Gehra Raaz:Anita Raj is traveling by train to Raigadh and her elderly companion asks her if she believes in ghosts. She laughs at the question and then the man disappears. Even then Anita Raj has an expression of complete indifference on her face. The only reason to see this film is Anita Raj, she makes Arjun Rampal look expressive, a tree is less wooden than her. I have never seen a performance so half hearted because as such Anita Raj is not a very bad actress. The thakur of Raigadh (Raj Babbar) has a son and Anita Raj is the new governess. However, there is one big problem. The spirit of the mother played by Salma Agha badly haunts the manor. How did she die? Well, the thakur was a musician he was obsessed with music and would practice his sitar with the court dancer (Jamuna) everyday. The wife hated his overnight music sessions with Jamuna & Sudhir Pandey (thakur’s manager) further instigated her. Finally, she kills Jamuna. Angry thakur throws her out of the house and she kills herself. But her spirit can’t forget the son so she keeps singing and haunting. Then one day Anita Raj sees the gardener (played by none other than BM Vyas) disappearing in the middle of the night. She follows him but finds that a snake has killed him. She looks at him as she would look at eggs for breakfast and returns home. Finally, after outstanding indifference and letting few more die Anita Raj cracks the mystery. She is a cop in disguise. Salma Agha is not dead and Sudhir Pandey is the bad guy. He wanted to marry Jamuna but she rejects him. In anger he breaks her leg and corners her into committing suicide. He traps Salma to think she is the killer and then makes her dress as a spook and haunt. Why B.M Vyas and others are killed we do not know. Anita Raj does not bother to tell us. And what I hold against her is she did not take any effort to save one of my favorite actors B.M Vyas.

Trivia: Shame on you if you don’t know BM Vyas. The best evil magician Bollywood ever had. He played the part of Makkar Jadugar Kamlaksh to perfection. Amrish Puri, Kader Khan and Shakti Kapoor were very good as well but the prototype of evil magician was BM Vyas. He is also my favorite asur & rakshah in mythological films. This picture in the post is from Homi Wadia’s ‘Ali Baba and 40 Thieves’ where he plays the daku sardar.

Tulsi Ramsay & the Meeting

2011-06-28T18:55:00.008-04:00

I met Mr.Tulsi Ramsay in his apartment cum office at Andheri. I am not going to talk about how excited I was or how I will treasure it for the rest of my life because that’s not the point of this post. This is about Mr. Tulsi Ramsay and my meeting with him.

How did the Ramsay Productions start?

The story starts with a film called Ek Nanhi Munni Ladki Thi, produced by F.U Ramsay. The film was directed by Vishram Bedekar starring Prithvi Raj Kapoor, Shatrughan Sinha and Mumtaz. The film did not do well at the Box office and the producers lost great deal of money.

But two important developments emerged out of this film. First, the Ramsays decided to make their own team and the team of seven Ramsay brothers (later known as horror brothers) was formed. The idea behind this was economy. One of the reasons for Ek Nanhi Munni Ladki Thi failing was also because the director could not stay within the budget. A home team would mean they would be able to stick to the budget. So, this is how Ramsay Productions started where everyone was self-taught/ trained. They took on different roles, Tulsi & Shyam Ramsay took to direction, Kumar Ramsay wrote the script, Gangu and the late Keshu Ramsay handled the cinematography unit, Arjun Ramsay became the editor & Kiran Ramsay was the sound recordist.

Why horror?

For this we again have to go back to Ek Nanhi Munni Ladki Thi where Prithvi Raj Kapoor is a thakur whose jewel studded dagger has been seized by the government and kept as a museum exhibit. Thakur decides to steal the dagger that is rightfully his. He wears a mask, a bulletproof vest & breaks into the museum. He steals the dagger & sets off the alarm. Guards come in and see a huge figure walking away with the dagger. They shoot but he is unhurt and continues to move. They think he is a monster. Once on the street a cab driver sees him and he is so afraid of the gigantic monster that he meets with an accident. While the movie did not do well this scene became immensely popular. Mr. Tulsi Ramsay himself watched it with the audience at different theatres and saw that the monster scene had gained immense popularity. Those were not the days of ‘All India Release’ or ‘World Release’. Movies first released in Bombay (it was Bombay then) & then went to other cities. Anyway this popularity gave them an idea….the audience likes being scared why not scare them.

The story of Do Gaz Zameen ke Neeche:

In a way this movie symbolizes the Ramsay structure. It was a low budget horror film. The movie was shot in Mahabaleshwar and the cast and crew stayed at the Holiday Camps that cost only Rs 6 to 8 back then. They carried their ration and hired cooks. The movie was a huge success and the profits were even higher because the production cost was low. Since then the Ramsays have maintained this economic model. They never made extravagant productions and most of their movies earned well.

The rest of the story we know. If not just go back to my old posts.

Zee Horror Show:

The show that made pots of money for Zee TV & one of the major profit making ventures for the Ramsays. The show was later called ‘Anhonee’. Mr. Tulsi Ramsay mentioned that the first episode with Archana Puran Singh’s head on the plate had become very popular. But he does not need to tell us that, the show ran for 11-12 seasons. And even today when we think of horror the very first name that comes to our mind is the Ramsay Brothers.

Trivia: Mr. Tulsi Ramsay’s personal favorite Ramsay movie is Veerana. He loves Vikram Bhatt and has watched ‘Haunted’ twice already. Btw Haunted reminds me that the first 3D horror was Saamri 3D made by the Ramsay brothers. Also, it seems before me someone from Canada had visited Mr. Ramsay had 5 day session with him, they had taken photographs…I can’t wait for a monograph on the Ramsay Brothers. It’s time we acknowledge the pioneers now that Raagini MMS and Haunted have both done so well at the box office.

Finally, a word about my feelings. Bliss is an understatement. All these years of dedication was well worth it. I met Tulsi Ramsay.

Just Boring

2011-06-13T01:56:00.002-04:00

‘Remember boring is not always bad’, that’s what grandma had told him once. He forgot the context but somehow the statement had stayed on in his mind. True, boring was perhaps not bad but boring was still boring. Jay had stayed all his life in this sleepy village, married Annette who was much older than him (and that was the only ‘sensational’ thing Jay ever did), had two children and last year when he turned 60, Annette and he went for a vacation to Europe, a thoughtful birthday gift from Annette.

Jay was a happy man. His son had settled in Vancouver worked for a bank and his daughter taught at a school in Hamilton. He loved his wife, they had a home and he was healthy. Somehow there was comfort in being boring. But being boring consistently is not easy either. Boredom is bound to affect you. With the children gone Jay’s life was now really dull. ‘Why can’t we have some big adventure Annie? Like the movies, some aliens abduct us and then we go to another planet or something.’ Annette smiled, ‘You have a point. Aliens often choose sleepy villages. But if they have any sense they would abduct the Goldens, now that’s a couple one needs to study.’ Jay laughed, ‘You bet. But I find them terribly pretentious they overdo the New Age thing. I often think something is seriously wrong with them.’ But tell me seriously Annie don’t you long for some big adventure.’ ‘You are wrong Jay, the Goldens do have a gift but they are odd yes. I don’t long for adventures, especially not supernatural ones. I am happy this way. You know, I met a witch once my aunt died the next day, so no I don’t want to have any supernatural experience ever. Once is enough.’

Jay was totally taken aback, was Annette joking? Annette was superstitious yes, but this was just so sudden and she said it in such a matter of fact way. ‘Annie, you never told me anything about it. What happened.’ ‘It was before I met you Jay, long back but I don’t want to talk about it. Gosh! Why did I even mention it, it’s not a good omen.’ ‘Where did you see the witch?’ he asked her. She was clearly upset now, ‘Jay I made a mistake by mentioning it please don’t talk about it. It was by the swamps the short cut to Black Forest Inn, I used to work there then. But please don’t ask me anymore I just don’t want to talk about it. Talking about the witch will bring bad luck.’

Jay was now intrigued. He knew Annette would not tell him anything but unlike him she did have an extraordinary experience. At least Annette had something to write about if she wrote an autobiography. Was he the dullest man that ever lived? Really, there was no element of surprise in his life. Annette loved routine. He even knew what she would make for dinner, like every Thursday she roasted a chicken, she made Chinese on Wednesdays, tried Thai curries every alternate Fridays and Tuesday meant meatloaf. When did they ever have anything different for Thanksgiving? Every damn year it was the turkey from Sam’s farm, that stupid squash dish he hated…boring was not good or bad it was just boring, in life there is good, bad and boring…and while thinking about boredom he saw her.

She was not more than 20, perhaps less. He had never seen anyone more beautiful than her. Those lovely blonde locks caressing her face, her sea green eyes and then like magic her eyes met his and she smiled…

It was midnight, and once again he had lied to Annette about the poker at Henry’s. He had to go home now but the thought of home filled him with anger. Home, that disgusting dull place with the old wife reading some stupid murder mystery. Everything about Annette now annoyed him. He hated her meat pies, her stupid dowdy clothes, she made him sick. He had to go to her leaving Clara behind. Clara, the magic, the answer to his prayers. Clara had the body of a goddess and innocence of a child. Clara was all he cared for, Clara was his life.

Today was exactly 6 months since they met at the Black Forest Inn. Since then every single day of his life had been bliss. Initially, there was guilt, he was cheating on Annette for the first time but he was glad he did. Woman like that deserved nothing better. That old hag, that stupid old hag. She was so much older than him, why could she not die and free him from this punishment. Hadn’t he served her enough? Every night he prayed for her death but she seemed healthier than before. She happily did all the housework, went for long walks nothing ever happened to her. So many hit and runs, sometimes old women loose balance and fall off from cliffs….no Annette was not going to die soon. That old woman had always been the one to make decisions in the marriage, this selfish cruel woman had ruined his life. He would have never realized what true happiness was if he had not met Clara. Life without Clara was not worth living so finally he did what he had to do.

‘Will you give me a divorce Annie?’ And the most unexpected thing happened. ‘Yes, of course. I can move out today if you want. The earlier the better I guess.’

She went in her room and started packing. He had never been this shocked in his life. How could Annette let go so easily? Did she not care about him? Did she not love him? ‘Annie, aren’t you upset I asked for a divorce. I mean come on this can’t be normal’. Annette smiled ‘You want a divorce take it, don’t question me. You are asking me for something and I am giving it to you let’s just keep it at that.’

After that there was complete silence. He did not realize when she finished her packing and when she left. As if Annette had vanished into thin air. Annette was gone, the house was empty. How easily those 33 years of togetherness ended. He first felt anger, then remorse and for some strange reason the tears would not stop. The doorbell rang, thank god Annette was back. It was Clara. But Clara looked different now, her liveliness was replaced with a frown, her sea green eyes looked grayish and her pink lips now seemed brownish. She was beautiful yes, but there was something sinister about the beauty. It was a sort of beauty that you did not want to touch. There was something unfamiliar, uncomfortable about her.

‘You have all you wanted Jay. The wife is gone you will never see her again. What a relief the old hag has disappeared! You can now live the rest of your life with me. Just you and me. I will take care of you my darling, I will watch over you now that she is gone.’ She kissed him but it was not the soft familiar kiss but a kiss that choked him, she was sucking up his breath and all he could hear was a deafening wail. His eyes close, the wail grew louder…

The police never believed a word of what the Goldens said but they had to hear their testimony ‘It’s not a natural death. The Witch was after him ever since his wife died six months back. Poor Annette her spirit did everything to protect him but the fool he asked the spirit to go and sealed his fate.’

Constable Kent felt bad for the Goldens. Dull life in the village had made them so desperate for adventure that they now blamed heart attacks on witches. But everyone did say he had gone quite insane since his wife died. It seemed he never even understood that she was gone. Constable Kent smiled, as he was drove back from work. In this sleepy dull village almost everyone lives and dies in a predictable humdrum way. Life here is not good, not bad but boring, just boring.

Aunt Susie's Inn

2011-04-09T04:45:00.015-04:00

It was called ‘Aunt Susie’s Inn: Try our homemade soups today.’ Inside the eatery there was a beautiful rose-bordered board that read ‘ Our soups are made only with the freshest ingredients, this is not just a soup but an experience.’ Ron had discovered this when he had taken a wrong turn on the highway and was desperately hungry. He always had an inherent mistrust for places that were called ‘Mom’s’ or ‘Aunt Hilda’s’ but he was very hungry, he was almost weak with hunger so he decided to take a chance and enter the place. There was something about the place that he could not pin point. It was sickeningly feminine almost 'aunt-like'. Pink lace curtains, dainty vases with flowers kept on the windowsill, the tables had pale cream tablecloth with lavender colored roses. The cutlery too had flowers painted on them. Ron soon discovered he was the youngest person in the place the average age seemed to be around 70. There were plenty of elderly people eating their luncheon, but he did like the smell in the place there was something very appetizing about it.

The menu was brought in by someone who could be Aunt Susie and the menu card too had flowers. The flowers were now getting on Ron’s nerves. ‘Hello dear, how are you’, the waitress said, ‘Must be so hungry. Let me get you our special soup today. Lamb with vegetables, it is just the thing for a very hungry man.’ And she winked. Ron was in no mood to think and he decided to just eat whatever was offered. In no time the soup arrived in a huge bowl with rose border along with some bread and mash.

The soup was divine. It was beyond any description. He had never felt so energized yet calm and relaxed at the same time. The soup was magical. After finishing it he felt as if his whole life had changed. The bill surprised him, it was only $2. Ron gladly paid $10 and before leaving took a card of the place he was going to come there again. Even if it meant driving 2 hours from home. This place was worth it.

After the soup Ron’s life changed too. Ron got promoted in his job, he finally managed to ask Becky out and it turned out Becky was equally interested in him. And then one day Ron decided to take Becky to the magical Aunt Susie’s soup place. That day it was chicken soup with dumplings. Ron again had the feeling of sheer joy, but the soup made Becky almost euphoric and Becky even landed up having a long conversation with the waitress. However there was one thing that kept lingering in Ron’s mind. The customers he saw that day were exactly the same people. That of course he could explain, it was lunch time and the soup was so good that if he lived close by he would come there everyday too. But what he did not comprehend was why were they all wearing the exact same clothes. Perhaps he was mistaken and they had similar clothes... yet it did strike Ron as odd. He was of course happy because Becky was ecstatic. She could not stop talking about it all week.

Next week was Becky’s birthday and all she wanted was to go back to Aunt Susie. She did not want any expensive French dinner that Ron had saved up for. That day the soup was chunky potato and beef. They even got a cupcake for Becky because it was her birthday. But for the first time Ron could not be happy about Becky’s happiness. First of all this time he was sure that the customers were the exact same people with the exact same clothes. There was something not natural about Becky’s joy. To Ron it seemed as if someone had cast a spell on her. He did feel guilty for his inability to take pleasure in such a beautiful perfect moment. Yes, that was the problem it was just way too perfect. It was a perfect village with a perfect garden and a perfect eatery. Life simply could not be like that. It was either an illusion or he was insane. And as the doubts begun clouding his mind he started feeling complete distaste for the place. He felt claustrophobic, shades of pale pink and lavender now nauseated him. All he wanted was to just get out of this place. There was something definitely wrong with this place. He was only too happy when he left. He decided never to go back there again.

But it was impossible to reason with Becky. Also, he had no real reason to hate the place. In two week’s time he had to again succumb to Becky’s request. In fact, earlier he had even contemplated ending his relation with Becky just to avoid the place but Becky was really the most beautiful, warm and compassionate girl he had ever met. He deeply loved her, love was about making some adjustments. He was planning to propose marriage to Becky soon.

He dreaded going to ‘Aunt Susie’s’ now. This time he was afraid of even entering the place and the moment he entered the claustrophobia returned. He was feeling terribly sick now. By now he knew he would see the exact same people with the exact same clothes and he did. This time he did not even hear what soup it was but when it came the smell revolted him. He could not bring himself to eat it. But Becky like the rest seemed to love it. He took a spoonful and the taste disgusted him. It was bitter, oily he somehow swallowed it but could not eat anymore. Noticing his odd behavior Becky asked him why he was not eating and he told her he wasn’t feeling well. Upon hearing this the waitress came rushing ‘O my dear if you are not well then you must have our clear soup, you must. It will make you feel better instantly.’ Before he could protest she came with a bowl of soup. He did his best to resist but he realized the more he resisted the more frenzied everyone became. They all surrounded him and asked him to drink the soup Becky too joined them. He took a sip and then few more sips. Soon he felt sharp inexplicable pain and before he could react there was darkness all round.

He first saw his mother, then his father and gradually he could hear voices. He realized they were all happy because he had gained consciousness. After a while he discovered that he had tried to commit suicide by poisoning himself in his apartment. It was sheer luck his neighbor had felt alarmed by his behavior when he had met him at the corridor and this wise neighbor had informed 911.

‘I never tried to kill myself I was poisoned.’ Ron said angrily. ‘And where is Becky, she was with me. Those people at Aunt Susie’s poisoned me.’ But everyone else including Becky was telling a different story. Becky had never gone with him to the soup place. As a matter of fact she had decided to break up with him because he had disappeared on her birthday but later when he had bought her the lovely bracelet and she had forgiven him. She never understood Ron’s story when he had told her that he could buy the bracelet because her birthday lunch had practically cost him nothing. She thought he was perhaps too preoccupied with his new project and besides that one mistake he was a great boyfriend.

Ron soon realized everyone disbelieved him. Also there was no Aunt Susie’s anywhere. The place he drove them to turned out to be an empty plot of land. Ron’s boss felt he was overworked and needed a break so Ron was given leave for 2 weeks.

Ron now had time to inquire about Aunt Susie’s . He knew he was neither insane nor delusional. There had to be some explanation and he was rewarded pretty soon. In fact, 86 yr old Jennifer was a baby when all this happened but she remembered it all quite well. ‘Yes, Susie she had a little shop here, nothing fancy but she always told my Ma she wanted a nice Victorian shop. Susie had an insane daughter you know quite mad she was and very dangerous. Susie made wonderful soups but then the tragedy happened. One day, during the lunch hour her insane daughter put poison that she had stolen from the chemist and added it in the soup pot. Everyone died instantly even Susie and her daughter. It was the biggest sensation in this place that I can tell you. It was in the front page of the papers for days. Terrible tragedy.’ But this was not something that haunted Ron it was the picture of the insane daughter that he saw later in the newspaper. Becky…it was Becky’s picture.

The Angry Children

2011-03-20T05:06:00.018-04:00

When you live in a village where electricity is unreliable, there are swamps, bamboo forests and the old burnt down Shiva temple people will tell stories. You can’t help it, it’s human nature. The tales are silly, ordinary and they have the same damn theme with only mild variations. Like this totally hackneyed story of Mr. Biswas and the petni (witch). It goes like this…

The last train had just left the platform and it was dark and windy. Only Mr. Biswas got down. Despite the weather he was excited. He had bought the best hilsa fish from Calcutta. He was going to rush home and ask the wife to fry few pieces. He was hungry. Throughout the journey he had fantasized about the fried fish with dal and rice. He couldn’t wait to get home. Home was 15 mins walk but if he took the path through the bamboo forest it would be just 5 mins. The problem with the bamboo forest was that it was infested with spooks, especially the petnis who loved the taste of hilsa. But Mr.Biswas decided to take a chance and take the short cut, he was terribly hungry. The inevitable happened. If you go in the bamboo forests with a hilsa there is no way you can escape a petni. In fact, Biswas Babu was lucky when only one petni followed him home. The petni kept demanding a slice of fish and her shadow danced over his head. Finally, she was placated when Mrs. Biswas fried the fish and gave few slices to her.

Everyone in the village tells this story with slight variations. Like, Mr. Ghosh got rid of the petni by feeding her a fried fish loaded with super hot red pepper. She never came back again. Then Joba Boudi, the doctor’s wife had confronted the petni with hot oil and spatula. But people said Joba Boudi did not need anything, her presence was enough to scare any spook away.

So, you see, villages have stories. Too many stories. Like the headless ghost who walks near the railway line holding his head and asking people to fix it back. Or the ghost of the old schoolmaster who still walks in the school garden, well, he floats. These are harmless, benign ghosts. And their stories are as humdrum as they are.

But I will tell you a true story. Well, he says it’s all true and there is no reason to not believe him. I have not changed his words for he told it very well.

‘I was only 12 then. Mother would scold me if I went out to play in the afternoons. She used to force me to sleep after lunch. I had to always wait till she woke up to go out to play. But one day she was not too well. Work had made her tired, being sick she could not sleep at all at night so she was sleeping very heavily that day. I decided to go out and come back in an hour or so. I was always curious about the old temple so I went there. Then I noticed something that I had not seen before. There was a slightly forested patch it did not look dense. I thought of investigating it. As I reached there I was totally taken aback by what I saw. There was a barbed wire and beyond the wire was an endless red field with very few trees. It didn’t look like our village at all but I decided to take a walk and see. I was very curious. My mind kept telling me it was best to go back home but I simply couldn't resist it. I had to find out. So, I jumped the fence and started walking.

It’s very tough to describe what I felt but it was a feeling of animosity and hostility. There was something in the air that said I was not wanted there and I should get back home. But I kept walking. After a while I saw some hamlets and then some children. I had never seen children who looked so angry. What can I say? There was no innocence, no kindness and no joy in their eyes. It was difficult for me to even comprehend the fact that they were children. There was absolutely nothing childlike about them. It was a strange mixture. Their faces were young but there was nothing youthful and pleasant about them. I tried to talk to them. Asked them where I was but they refused to say anything and kept looking at me angrily.

At the same time I kept wondering how the topography had changed so much. Our village had no red soil. This was a barren dry place and our village was very green, filled with ponds, swamps. Was I dreaming?

But it was no dream I saw a few more hamlets and finally what looked like a temple. I decided to go inside the temple. To be honest I was very afraid. My instincts told me I was not safe and I could find refuge in the temple. The moment this thought came to me I saw groups of children coming out of the hamlets and they were walking angrily with their eyes fixed on me. I knew they wanted to kill me so I ran. And the moment I started running I heard the most terrible cries of pain and anguish. The children were yelling and running behind me. But it was not a cry of anger but a cry of desperate, deep pain. I ran and went in the temple. Just as I reached the temple the cries stopped.

There was silence but the silence was not peaceful. I felt no comfort or solace in the temple. It was dark and cold inside. In the silence of the temple there was something deeply disturbing, I think I sensed evil for the very first time. The temple was bigger than I had thought. Also, I realized that the children had not followed me inside the temple. As a matter of fact they had all disappeared. I then started looking around and first saw a statue of Ganesha, then Krishna. But something was definitely wrong with the statues. I could not identify what it was but something was definitely wrong. Suddenly, I realized what was wrong. Krishna was not holding a flute at all it was something else and as I focused I saw Krishna was eating what he was holding, then the face changed it was not Krishna at all but some monster chewing a baby alive. Yet I was sure when I first came in it did not look like that. The statue was getting transformed in front of me. The Ganesha statue too had changed and it did not look like Ganesha at all. And the moment I made the discovery the cries of pain came back. I could hear the voice of the child the monster was holding and eating. This was no temple; this was a dungeon where the monsters lived. The monsters had fooled me and now I was trapped. The cries grew more and more intense. I almost went deaf with the noise I was feeling so sick I could not stand. I crashed on the floor. Just as my eyes were about to close I saw the faces of angry children closing up on me.

I did not die but my life changed completely. The children wanted friends. So, I first got them squirrels, dogs, cats and then human friends. What could I do? The angry children had lost everything they loved and now they wanted others too to feel and share their fate. We all come in this world with a purpose and my purpose was to ensure the continuity of hate, anger, fear and evil. I just did what I had to.’

He had killed 15 children. Sacrificed them at the old burnt down Shiva temple. He told this story when the cops arrested and interrogated him. He was hanged. Told you, this was not going to be like the usual ghost stories. And you know what the villagers say? They can still see him sitting near the temple and sharpening his dagger. But that’s just another one of those typical commonplace stories that the villagers keep repeating.

The Strange Case of Marie Dubois

2011-02-21T02:44:00.011-05:00

(As the name suggests it's a spooky folklore. I write them simply because I miss the genre. Be warned it's a long post.)

I met Marie Dubois during my short stay in Quebec City. She rented the studio right next to mine. Marie spoke flawless English; she had taken a break for finishing her novel and was even more hard pressed for money than I was. Marie and I were destined to get along. We met at the corridor exchanged a few words and Marie invited me to dinner. We became friends over the delicious roast chicken, salad and good chardonnay.

Soon Marie and I spent all our evenings together. Though Marie was originally from Montreal she had no friends who came to visit her. Like everyone else her world too ran on phone calls and social network. It was initially our love for cooking that brought us together but Marie and I had plenty to talk about. Marie eventually started talking about her personal life. She had recently broken up with her boyfriend for 8 years and was now left alone with very little savings to sustain. It was really her desire to write a book that had affected their relation. Her boyfriend had initially told her he would support her endeavors but soon things turned sour and they fought over money. He became abusive and then begun attacking her book. Finally, he asked her to move out and informed her it was all over. Marie was not at all a bitter woman, yes, she did feel anger but that was when occasionally something reminded her of her stupidity and wrong choices. This is something that happens to all women and Marie was no exception.

Marie loved Quebec City. In fact it was her love for the city that had rubbed on me. She would keep talking about the magic of the city and the charm of the fortifications. ‘True, every city has it’s own life and character but the spirit of Quebec City is tactile and the more you know it the closer it comes to you.’

One day after dinner we were watching a game show on TV over a cup of mint tea. Suddenly Marie asked me, ‘Do you believe in ghosts, Aditi?’ ‘Of course I do. But why are you asking this Marie?’ ‘I guess I can share this with you I know you will not laugh at me. But something strange has been happening to me recently.’ I encouraged her to go on. ‘See, nothing at all is wrong I mean my health is all right, the house is certainly not haunted. I don’t hear voices or there are no creatures talking from the sink or hiding in the closet. But I have this weird feeling of another body living inside me. No, I am not possessed by a spirit like the movies but I feel the presence of another body. It’s just a body with no thoughts, no complications.’ I was very intrigued. ‘But what makes you think that?’ 'When I breathe I can hear the breathing of another person simultaneously. When I eat I feel someone is eating with me, inside me.’ ‘Wait, are you pregnant Marie?’ I asked. I realized it was stupid question but it was too late. ‘O God! Of course not. I simply can’t explain this. But certainly something is wrong with me. I feel another body inside mine. But I am neither insane nor do I hear any voices.’

That night I kept thinking about what Marie had said and suddenly my stomach growled. I knew I had the answer to Marie’s problem. I waited till next evening. And then over our evening cocktails I told her my brilliant observation about her problem. ‘Marie, you have never been lonely. From what you tell me your life with Robert was pretty hectic. You worked, came home, cooked and then after doing all the housework you just had no energy left. You have been a very busy woman all your life. And now suddenly this loneliness. It is possible that for the first time you are becoming aware of your own body. You know when you don’t get sleep easily you can become conscious of your breathing. You are just more aware of your body. Loneliness can affect you in many ways you know.’ Marie thought for a while. ‘Maybe there is some truth in what you are saying. I have never been alone before. Let me go visit my sister in Montreal for few days and see if the feeling persists.’

Marie and I both left the next day. I had some work in Toronto and she went to Montreal. I was back in a week and saw that Marie had returned. When I went to her place in the evening I instantly sensed something was terribly wrong with Marie. She looked pale and old. I could not believe how one week had changed her. ‘O My God Marie, are you all right?’ She burst into tears and broke down completely.

It seems Marie met a psychic in Montreal. She was not a regular psychic but someone who claimed she had powers. To be honest Marie’s psychic sounded too phony. Some woman with Middle Eastern roots who saw Marie and immediately said she was in some trouble. She had succeeded in making Marie miserable. The psychic said someone had cast an evil eye on Marie. That was the reason Robert had dumped her and the evil eye would now not let her finish her novel. She had to fight the evil spirit that was now following her all the time.

I was angry. Being an Indian I have heard numerous stories like this. Frauds who survive on people’s insecurities and anxieties. Poor Marie, she was vulnerable and someone had made it worse for her. I tried to reason with her but all in vain. Now Marie was convinced some evil spirit was living in her.

Soon I realized the only way to help her was to support her in her crazy search for the evil spirit. Marie who had no money to start with now spent whatever was left on all sorts of crazy objects to keep evil spirits away. ‘Marie there is no point in feeling afraid. Why don’t you sit and make a list of people who would wish you ill? Maybe you need to look for answers.’ Fortunately, Marie fell for this and got busy compiling a list of her enemies. Though I kept seeing her every evening the old Marie was gone. She was always talking about people who hated her, she had stopped writing her book and now studied books on occult, Wicca, Voodoo, Witchcraft all day long. She kept insisting that she now felt the presence of the body in her more and more; she even wasted money on consulting psychics online.

Soon my work in Quebec was over and it was time for me to go back. I felt terrible. First of all I loved Quebec City and Marie had become a good friend. I knew she could do with a friend but my finances had exhausted completely. There was no way I could continue living in Quebec, I had to get back to work. It was not easy to say goodbye to Marie. She kept repeating how lonely she would become once again. We promised to call each other and maintain contact through facebook. In a nutshell I was not at all happy about leaving Quebec but I had too. When I came back I was swarmed with work. I totally forgot to call Marie for a week. But she had not called me either. I assumed she was upset with me since I had told her I would call her back in a day or two. I called her thrice, left two messages but there was no response. I kept calling her for a week and then got worried. I also saw there was no activity on her facebook page. I then called the residence of the woman I had rented the studio from. The owner of the house had sold the property and had moved to a village where they had their old house. The new owner had no clue about previous tenants. I did not know her sister’s name so there was no way I could find her. I gave up my search but kept hoping I would hear from her again.

Eight months later I was chatting with a colleague who had given me the contact of the lady from whom I had rented the studio in Quebec. I was thanking her for the reasonable rates and excellent location. We got chatting about Quebec and how fascinating the city was. ‘Quebec City is one place where you want to go back again and again. And there are so many crazy folktales and spooky legends that makes the city even more attractive’. She added.

This discussion made me remember a strange story that I had heard from an old lady who I used to sometimes chat with in the coffee shop. ‘Quebec is the only fortified city in North America, you know that. Right? Within this boundary of Quebec there is a closely guarded secret. You know sometimes those walls open and people from 1700 just come and go. You can't see them but they say you can hear them breathe, you can feel them in your guts. And these walls they too take people away. People who just vanish, people who are now stuck in 1700. If you love this city, the city too has a strange way of expressing it’s love.’

Of course it’s just a story but Marie Dubois is still missing.

The House of Thirteen Ghosts

2011-02-13T04:57:00.006-05:00

(Another typical rainy night ghost story, old world, old school stuff).

I have often wondered if every village has a haunted house and an area that every villager avoids. Anyway the village I am talking about had a haunted house and everyone avoided the house and its vicinity like plague. The house was called ‘Tero Bhuter Badi’ ( the house of thirteen ghosts) and it was actually away from the main village. A two stored mansion broken and dilapidated with time. The garden that surrounded it had now become a forest. No one would go there after sunset but every villager knew that the house became alive at night.

Yes, that’s what I mean the house would come alive. The doors would move, windows would change places, there would be light inside the house and the gate would swing. The little broken statue in the yard would come alive and the whole house would be full of shadows moving about busily. But this was like no other haunted house. Other houses were haunted by spirits. This house itself was a spirit and attracted ghosts to come in and live.

But why was it called ‘Tero Bhuter Badi?’ Grandma knew it all she was only a little girl when this house was made, in fact the house was made before her birth but the first death happened when she was 4. It started with the schoolmaster, he had built the house but it was his wife who transformed the house, she put the curse in it and made it bloodthirsty. She was a very powerful witch. Which is why even the great exorcist ‘Borali Baba’ could do nothing. He said there is no spirit that you can fight this is a great witch’s curse and a humble exorcist like him could do nothing.

So many died mysteriously in the house. The Dutta family with all their modern ‘scientific’ ideas, Mr Dutta kept insisting ‘Jatto sab geon lok aaje baaje bhooter gappo kore. Bhoot bole kichu ache naki chata!’ (All these idiotic villagers talking balderdash about spooks. As if there is something called ghosts!’) And look what happened to the Dutta family. All dead. Son falls from the big tree and dies, daughter drowns and the wife just hangs herself. Then Mr. Dutta just disappears. Same with the Mukherjee family. Two dead three missing. The house had claimed them all. So many families refusing to believe and dying there but finally it had stopped. Now for at least 15 years no one went near the house let alone live there.

‘Tero Bhuter Badi’ had a Mango tree. No one touched the mangoes there. Once little Chameli who was the bravest girl in the village had taken one and even ate it. It was just an ordinary mango, nothing ever happened to Chameli. The house attracted her. She would go near it often. Once someone saw Chameli go towards the direction of the house instead of following her he went straight and told Chamel’s mother. Since then Chameli’s mother kept an eagle’s eye on her. Chameli could not even go near the pond that was a bit away from the house. People did use the pond during the day but Chameli was not allowed near it.

Soon Chameli’s father went away to the city and Chameli went away too. Chameli’s grandparents remained in the village. Chameli became a city girl and would now hardly come to the village. Chameli forgot all about the house. She grew up and went to college to study microbiology. It was during a vacation that Chameli came to the village with her friend Dola. The two girls loved the village. Grandma and Grandpa were both excited. Grandma sent their servant Jibon to get the biggest rohu fish from the market. Grandpa went to the butcher to get tender meat. Grandma knew how much Chameli loved to eat her vegetable medley and sat to cut veggies. It was then Chameli and Dola decided to take a walk in the village. They would take a long walk, work up their appetite and come home for lunch. It was during this walk that Chameli saw the house and remembered everything. She told Dola all about it and Dola too was excited. Surely there could be no ghosts but there certainly was something about the house. The two girls decided they would come there at night when everyone was asleep.

They went home ate the best lunch of their lives and fell asleep. They woke after a long siesta and never before had they felt so fresh. Evening came and then night fell soon. In villages nightfall was always abrupt and too soon. By 10.30 the entire village was in deep sleep. The girls still waited. They started when it was 12.

Quietly they took their flashlights, spayed insecticides on their hands and feet, wore their most comfortable shoes and slowly walked out of the house. No one had any clue they had left. The night did make them a little scared. Also, it was pretty cold. The wind often cut through their jackets but the girls were determined to see the mysterious house at night. They could hear the foxes, yes, they were scared but not of spooks just the darkness and the unknown that darkness held.

They reached the house, just as they had heard there were lights inside the house and the gate was wide open. Dola immediately whispered to Chameli ‘Someone lives here. The ghost story is a hoax, let’s go in’. They walked through the gates and went in. The unkempt yard had vanished and the garden had reappeared. The door automatically opened and from outside they saw a perfectly furnished house. Chairs, table all arranged beautifully. There were lanterns all over the place and sounds came from the kitchen too. Chameli was afraid. She wanted to now go back but Dola insisted ‘Can’t you see there are no ghosts. Some people are living in here and fooling the villagers. Just come in silly.’

Just as they went in the door closed and the house plunged in darkness. Dola shrieked and tried to reach for Chameli’s hand but there was no trace of Chameli. Dola put on the flashlight and yelled like a maniac ‘CHAMELI, CHAMELI’. The flashlight showed a dusty cobweb filled house with broken furniture spilled all over. Dola ran to the door but never found the door. The door had disappeared. Dola yelled and yelled. But no one heard her cry. Soon Dola felt choked, she could not breathe anymore. Someone was stifling her. After a while there was no life left in Dola, she was dead. The house again came back to life. The door moved back to its place, the sounds again came from the kitchen. It was all normal.

Next morning Dola could be found nowhere. Chameli told her grandparents that she had gone off to bed and had found Dola asleep beside her. They waited till 10 and then a very distraught Chameli informed the police. By 4 in the afternoon they found Dola’s body. She had hung herself in the infamous ‘Tero Bhuter Badi’.

It was a mystery that could never be solved. It did turn out that Dola was pregnant and her boyfriend had refused to take responsibility. But Dola just did not seem like a girl who would kill herself, she had seemed so full of life the day before. But there was something else that was haunting Grandma. Something that Chameli had said while weeping helplessly over Dola’s body. ‘Now it is ‘Tero Bhuter Badi’, three Duttas, two Mukherjees, two Ghoshs, four Roychowdhurys and my stupid husband. It was always twelve, I had to make it thirteen. Thirteen you see is my lucky number.’ And Grandma had seen Chameli smile, a broad captivating smile. Just like the schoolmasters’ wife who had smiled when they found her husband’s body in the swamp.

The Cycle of Life

2011-01-30T19:21:00.006-05:00

Of course I don’t want the birthday that I dreamt of when I was 8 years old. Back then all I wanted was a Bollywood style birthday with parents singing and me swirling round in a pink frock. Room full of kids I hardly knew but they all sang in chorus, gave me presents and played musical chairs. This kind of Birthday would now be a nightmare though I still want the rich frosted cake. In an ideal world I would eat that entire cake alone. All the frosting, all those multi colored roses. ALL. But gradually I have learnt to settle for a frosted cupcake, though I usually eat 2-3. However, I don’t eat the cake I am a wise individual I only stick to frosting.

I remember as a kid I used to often get sick because of frosting overdose but impediments like nausea, loose motions have never deterred me.

Ok, I still like presents but then who doesn’t? Everyone in this world love cakes and presents and if they are saying ‘No, not really’ it’s a lie or they are freaks. I am a truthful, sane individual. So, leaving aside those my entire concept of birthday has changed.

Now all I care for is intoxication. I am not choosy about how I get it. My favorite is beer but hey Pink Lady, Old Fashioned, Manhattan, Brass Monkey or simply Whiskey sour. I only care for results. Wait, I am not an alcoholic. In fact my recent boom in kilos has deterred me from things I adore most in this world alcohol and frosting. Now birthday is one day I forget I am getting older. I crib about my age rest of the year. See my memory is fading, those wrinkles under the eyes, I think I need anti ageing cream, I have no hair anymore, it’s not like I am 20 I can’t do this, I have to stop cream cheese it’s my age, I am an old person I have the wisdom you don’t…all this I do everyday of my life. On birthdays I am livelier than usual. I love birthdays. I guess everyone loves their birthdays unless there is some dark history attached to it. I have no history there is no question of it being light or dark, which is why I live off other people’s history.

Now an ideal birthday for me involves serious intoxication, at least three movies and a dollhouse cake where I can eat all the pink, yellow, red, blue and green frosting. For presents I want gift cards of clothing stores, malls and maybe organic food stores.

As I said I have changed. From being a fan of Kraft Mac and Cheese I have moved to organic whole-wheat pasta with homemade marinara. Over the years the entire idea of Aditi has changed. I am a cynic, I have no faith in the divine, I am not an optimist, I don’t believe goodness will bring goodness back, I don’t believe suffering will eventually deliver you from pain, things don’t magically change for most of us…life sucks, just deal with it.

Yet I am here, I am alive and let me celebrate it. There is a great chance that tomorrow will not be a better day.

MY Caramel Pudding

2010-12-22T04:54:00.003-05:00

(This is a long post)

The fact is I wanted to write some cutesy post for Christmas, you know some sort of a story where you feel I am a wonderful human being, or a funny story that finally has a profound moment like the T.V show ‘Full House’. But I soon realized my mind had a strange way of cataloguing information.

My mind has kept things simple. The entire gamut of my memories is divided in two groups; happy and sad. And what was the basis of this categorization? Food. Whenever there was good food I was happy, and when there was no food, bad food or I missed good food I was sad. Don’t ask me how I trained my mind to achieve this. I have always believed in complete freedom and this is how my free mind worked. This story is about the workings of my mind and how my mind helped me to deal with terrible pain.

I was 8 yrs old then and for some reason kids in my neighborhood had always alienated me. The main reason for this was I sucked at all games both outdoor and indoor and my attempts of fitting in had not worked out. As a result I was kept out of everything. When I would come down to play the other kids had some closely guarded secret and they would all start laughing. Then one day I discovered what their secret was.

My father had just left for his work and I was hovering around the verandah when I heard two of my friends discussing me. They could not see me since our apartment was on the first floor. I was not just the fattest kid in the neighborhood I was the dumbest as well. I would listen to anything they said. They were planning to fool me again in the evening. They would play ‘Help Sister’ and I would be made the ‘chor’ and left alone.

Ok, the game was kinda exploitative. One person would be the ‘chor’ and she/he had to run and catch others. However, if the other person yelled ‘Help Sister’ someone would come and catch their hand and the ‘chor’ could not catch them. Well, the entire game was focused on making me run around pointlessly. I also realized that they only played this game only when I was around. I was fat, slow and I would do anything they would say. This hurt me really bad I started weeping silently. You see, the only reason why I agreed to be the ‘chor’ was because I desperately wanted to fit in. I did not want them to exclude me from the game. I would run around and get exhausted and finally raise my hand and say ‘haar’ (meaning ‘I give up’) I would then go home and their real games would start. The entire purpose of ‘Help Sister’ was to get rid of me and laugh at me.

For an 8 year old who had no sibling, no close friend, this was heartbreaking, I came inside and started weeping. It was then I heard my Ma instruct our domestic help to go to the grocers' and get some extra milk. Suddenly my tears stopped ‘Extra milk…hmmm’, I went in the kitchen. Mom had put eggs, slices of bread on the shelf and she was washing the steam basket. This couldn’t be true, this was no season or time for caramel pudding but everything pointed in that direction. I asked ‘Ma, are you making pudding?’ ‘Yes, I had told you if you did all the sums I would make some for you.’ Now this was too much, normally I never did my work on time especially sums. But I had finished them to read a storybook and Ma had never made any promise like that. I would have remembered a thing like that.

But pudding! That delicious white velvety sweetness with golden brown caramel on top. Also, pudding was one of Ma’s specialty in fact I have never had a pudding as delicious as hers.

Soon our domestic help came with packets of milk from the grocer. I still could not believe this was happening. Normally pudding meant a lot of hard work. Behave myself, study, get some exercise it was never this easy. For someone who had always earned her pudding this gesture was overwhelming. And yes I was excited. Very very excited.

I started by sketching a picture of me hugging the pressure cooker with the pudding inside and titled it as ‘Aditi loves Pudding’. I again went in the kitchen to see the progress but Ma shooed me out and told me I will get the pudding only in the evening. ‘What’s there for lunch?’ I had to do something before the moment of Nirvana. ‘Roti, okra and some tomato chutney. But for dinner we are making your favorite egg curry.’ My domestic help replied. On any other day egg curry would have brought me ample joy. But all I could think of was pudding. The lunch had very little appeal for me and I took my toys and went in my room to play.

My game only focused around making pudding and feeding it to my dolls. But I got bored, I tried reading a storybook but the book described chicken roasted in butter, rich chocolate cookies I could not go on. My mind returned to the golden white sweet bliss that was waiting for me to get steamed.

After lunch I could smell the caramel. I went insane with joy. I begged Ma to give me some but she flatly refused. I had to wait till evening. To distract myself I went out to play and played ‘Help Sister’. When I came back there it was waiting for me in a bowl with caramel sauce floating on top. In few seconds it was gone. I had ruthlessly devoured it I had not enjoyed the flavor, the taste. Usually, I ate pudding very slowly but today the sheer excitement had overwhelmed me. ‘More.’ I demanded. ‘No, not at all you will get more tomorrow, go now.’ ‘Please Ma’. But arguing with my mother was useless. It was then by chance I made the great discovery. Ma had made two huge tins of pudding. She was going to see her friend tomorrow and the second tin was meant for them. All I had to do was wait for the right chance.

I was so focused on the pudding that I mechanically ate the egg curry, the veggies normally I showed a lot of enthusiasm on dinner table. Then night fell everyone went to bed. In few seconds I could hear Baba snoring but Ma was a light sleeper. So, I waited. I don’t know how long but when I felt safe I headed towards the refrigerator. There it was two huge tins. I silently took out one. Yes, 90% of it was filled with pudding. The 10% was what Ma had rationed out to me earlier. I took a spoon from the kitchen and polished off the tin. I realized I was feeling uneasy but human mind is such a powerful thing or perhaps a supernatural force driving me. I opened the second tin. This tin was filled with delicious miracle. When I was half way through it I felt nauseous and sick but I could not stop. Remember, I was doing all this after I had eaten my dinner. But at this point the only thing that mattered in my life was pudding. I finished it. But I got so sick that I dropped the tin and woke up my mother. She came out of the room and switched on the light. There I was with two empty tins and my mouth smeared with caramel. Before she could yell at me she saw the state I was in. My face was contorted with pain and I was very sick. I threw up 8 times and Baba and Ma had to stay awake all night. I groaned in pain, and it was the nausea that was unbearable. Finally in the morning I had fallen asleep.

Now, how would your mind preserve this memory. Totally unhappy, right? Rejected by friends I do emotional eating and then experience terrible sickness. This can’t be a happy memory. Yet all my mind remembers is how delicious the pudding was, how Ma never got up till I had finished it all. I had altered God’s will. I had successfully finished the pudding that was meant for someone else. I had also ended my mother’s powers to make me study by using the pudding as bait. I was the undefeated, unconquered Empress. The pudding was mine all mine.

Hisss: Not really a review

2010-12-09T18:17:00.004-05:00

(Be warned this post contains spoilers on the movie 'Boxing Helena')

Normally, I don’t review movies on my blog. In fact, this is not a review. You can call it an amalgamation of some coherent thoughts that I had after watching the Hollywood/ Bollywood crossover film ‘Hisss’. Now what was it about Hisss that I felt the need to write about it in my blog.

I realize my blog is neither famous nor infamous which is why very few people read it. I call it Unimportant, Insignificant to stress the point that there is very little to gain by being here, and just to keep the tradition alive here is Hisss for you.

The film starts in 2300 B.C and back then apparently it was common knowledge that there is a precious gem inside certain types of male cobras and this gem can make one eternal. However, if you caught the male cobra and killed it before you could retrieve the gem from him the Female snake ‘Nagin’ would come and kill everyone who harmed her mate. She is none other than the shape shifting Nagin or the ‘Icchadhari Nagin’.

Those of us who know Bollywood are totally familiar with this concept but I had no clue that the Nagin was connected with menstrual blood and for some reason we have repeated shots of menstruating woman. See, this is one of the plus points of crossover cinema there is so much more to learn that traditional Indian cinema normally shuns.

But ‘Hisss’ is a modern story. It takes place somewhere in the jungles of South India. The plot, hmmmmmm let’s see. It’s actually ‘inspired’ by Rajkumar Kohli’s ‘Nagin’ and ‘Jaani Dushman: Ek Prem Katha’. Yes, of course, when Bollywood does it it’s a shameless copy but Hollywood is simply ‘inspired’ that’s how the Indian critics would describe it. Also, let’s be fair here Jennifer Lynch only copies the outline the movie is totally stripped of any Bollywood charm. Instead of Reena Roy’s seductive dance we are left with gross imagery, close ups of disemboweled people and yes we get to see Mallika Sheravat’s buttocks. Happy!

The plot revolves around a politically incorrect White guy wants to become immortal by stealing the gem from the snake’s body. Let me talk about this White Guy (no, you can’t pin point his nationality and trust me this type of human beings are now extinct, I have no other words to describe him). He treats Indians like slaves and confirms every cliché about the bad white man. This man is offensive even by 17^th -18^th century standards. Really he can make Manoj Kumar’s ‘cruel British Officers’ seem like Sai Baba. Now, he has cancer and is in the last stages he has few months to live, so he decides the cure for cancer is playing with cobras.

Fine, he goes to the jungle and some of his Indian slaves tell him that it’s best to catch a male snake when the snakes are copulating. I call them slaves because not only do they obey every nonsense he says but they never protest when he inflicts them with golden showers, (No, am not kidding). However, unlike the careless hunters of Raj Kumar Kohli this guy has a definite plan. He knows it is tough to fight the shape shifting Nagin. If Sunny Deol can’t (Jaani Dushman) he knows he has no chance. He decides to kidnap the male snake and torture it with electric shocks. Why? The ‘Nagin’ will come to rescue him and he would let her ‘Naag’ go if she gives him the gem. Yes, it is simple negotiation.

He manages to catch the ‘Naag’ and brings him to a village where he keeps it in a tank and regularly tortures it. The Nagin takes form of Mallika Sheravat and comes looking for the ‘Naag’. But before she can find him she has a few adventures.

Before I go to her adventures let me introduce you to the ‘hero’. It’s the head of the Police (Irfan Khan) of this town/village where the ‘Naag’ is kept in. He has his own family problems; his wife (Divya Dutta) has repeated miscarriages and his Mother in Law is insane. She can’t differentiate between him and Divya Dutta.

This town is full of rapists and men whose only evening activity is domestic violence. As you know from Rajkumar Kohli that Nagins would kill people totally disconnected to the actual incident. Nagin’s wrath is destructive. But the Nagin is not unjust she only kills men who rape and torture women. Here again, the Bollywood charm of revenge is gone. Mallika turns into a gigantic snake and swallows her victims.

The special effects are exceptional. It will make movies like ‘Shaitani Dracula’ look professional and Ramsay Brothers ‘Purana Mandir’ will seem as brilliant as ‘Titanic’.

The plot proceeds as Irfan investigates the murders and Mallika also closes in on the White guy. There is a final showdown and justice is served. Mallika brutally kills the dude and Irfan watches helplessly. Oh Yes! What led Irfan to this man? His insane Mother in Law tells him exactly what has happened and where to find the bad guy and dies. So, he is led there by an insane woman who he never takes seriously primarily because she thinks he is her daughter. But we will not question all this. Remember all’s well when it ends well. In fact the ending is super. Irfan’s wife finally has a baby and we also see Mallika lying over eggs and the movie ends when the eggs hatch.

This movie comes from Jennifer Lynch the director of ‘Surveillance’ ‘Boxing Helena’. I will not talk about her father; I don’t do it while talking about Junior B or Shruti Hassan, so yes shhhhhh. Let me tell you what was redeeming about ‘Boxing Helena’ even after our nerves were brutally mauled by Julian Sands, it was after all a nightmare! Agreed the audience went through hell too but the protagonist also suffered in that dream. Also, ‘Boxing Helena’ was an interesting concept that was handled badly.

But there are no words to describe ‘Hisss’. The only question you will ask is ‘What were they thinking?’ I watched this right after Karan Razdan’s ‘Hawas’ and frankly this made Karan Razdan look like, well, the father of Jennifer Lynch.

Kabir's Mother

2010-10-31T19:52:00.009-04:00

(This is a Halloween post. An old-fashioned ghost story. Totally traditional with no ‘modern’ twists and turns.)

During my short winter break I had as usual gone off to my grandmother’s farmhouse. For an 8 year old nothing was more exciting than packing my bags and going to the village to spend time with my ‘thakuma’ (grandmother). Time with thakuma meant I could spend all day playing around the farm, do some fishing, play with the cats and the dog. I was a free, happy spirit. The best thing was I did not have to study. Instead I could read all the storybooks and because there was no electricity in the village it meant Thakuma would tell me stories at night. By 7 in the evening it got pitch dark. We would eat our dinner and then cuddle up in bed where thakuma would tell her stories.

Dinner was usually Thakuma adding everything in a big pot (mainly fish, eggplant, potatoes, carrots, squash, turnips (anything she could find in the garden or in her kitchen) and slow cooking it. I know, the dish sounds great for a winter dinner but it tasted awful. Thakuma still hates spending money on anything, so, the dish hardly had any spice or oil. But who cared about food, I was never fussy and eating dinner meant thakuma would tell me stories. We would all be up on the bed, thakuma, me, the two cats and our dog (who actually was on the chair next to the bed) and start the stories. Most of the time it was mythology, sometimes quasi historical fiction but thakuma almost never ever told ghost stories though I asked for it all the time. She always said telling ghost stories attracted ghosts and since our farmhouse was right next to the graveyard it was best to leave them alone.

It was an unusually cold night. Thakuma had gone out of her way to fry an egg for me to keep me warm. She had also warmed up some milk, I hated milk so I had secretly fed it to the cats. All day I had nagged Thakuma to tell me a ghost story and she had finally yielded to my persistent nagging. Just as she mentioned the word ghost the Dog came on the bed and settled near thakuma. She started her story. It was about this house on the lake where a statue mysteriously came to life.

As thakuma was going on with the story there was a knock on the door. Then a voice came ‘O Didi! I am Kabir’s mother I need some help.’ We were instantly relieved. Kabir’s mother used to live in another village and she would often come and do some odd jobs for my grandmother. Sometimes when she got late she would come to our house and spend the night. Kabir’s mother came in. For such a cold night all she had was a white sari and a blouse. We quickly gave her warm milk handed her some blankets and she settled in the other room. She told my thakuma that she had an unusually long day working for the school headmaster and she just did not have the energy to walk back home. Kabir’s mother was a chatty woman but she was unusually quiet that day. Thakuma resumed her story. But we noticed that the dog and the cats were behaving very oddly. They were certainly very scared. What was strange is that they all knew Kabir’s mother very well. Yet their behavior was decidedly odd. The dog in fact started whimpering a bit. That was when we noticed it had become extremely cold and we were all shivering. My grandmother got out more blankets, some woolen shawls and covered the dog with it. She could not finish her story because of the animals disturbing us and soon we all fell asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night because of unbearable cold and as I was trying to reach for another blanket on the side my blood froze. There was Kabir’s mother looking at me. Not really Kabir’s mother but an apparition of her. She had no eyes just two hollows, she was floating in air and a fixed grin on her face. She was calling me ‘Come, come near me little girl. Come’.

I screamed. Never in my life I had screamed so loudly. I could have woken up the entire village. The figure disappeared. The animals were already awake and now the dog started barking looking at the direction where the apparition was. Thakuma got up but I was inconsolable. I could hardly explain what I had seen and I was now howling, stopping, howling again. I was insane. There was of course no sign of Kabir’s mother. It took a while for Thakuma to calm me down. But she was equally nervous. She knew the ghost story had drawn spirits from the graveyard, spirits that had nowhere to go. We then knew Kabir’s mother had died and perhaps her spirit had still not rested. After all we had not seen Kabir’s mother for a week.

The next morning there was evidence of Kabir’s mother’s spirit leaving our house. The entire courtyard had muddy footsteps of inverted feet. My grandmother decided we had to go to Kabir’s house for obvious reasons. During the journey we stopped at the temple got some flowers, just in case we needed something to defend ourselves against more spirits. We also bought some fruits as we were confident of her death and it was customary to get fruits when visiting a grieving family.

When we reached there another shock was awaiting us. Kabir’s mother opened the door. She was not even ill. We did not say anything just made usual queries bought some eggs from them and returned home. On our way back Thakuma told me the spirit must have taken her form to enter our house. ‘See, I had told you we live too close to the spirits we can’t call them.’ I was very quiet. I had the worst nightmare of my life and here was Thakuma talking about it most rationally.

The next afternoon as I was playing with the cats Kabir came. He looked terrible, he was sobbing. His mother had died in the morning. She stumbled on a root, fell, her head hit a stone, as she was trying to get up a branch fell from the tree and broke her neck. She died instantly.

Karva Chauth and Bolly Thoughts

2010-10-27T01:56:00.003-04:00

Don’t misunderstand me, really, my point here is something completely different. I don’t want to mock women who fast on Karva Chauth on the contrary I admire anyone who can successfully keep a fast.

But to me Karva Chauth is a triumph of Bollywood. I am happy when Bollywood wins, my entire existence has been shaped by it and nothing gives me greater pleasure to see media encroaching on our day-to-day existence. The Punjabis and some other parts of North India always had Karva Chauth but it is the Chopras and Karan Johar who nationalized it.

Karva Chauth is exactly like the introduction of Santoshi Maa by the Rajshri Brothers. What K Jo and Chopras managed to do was to give a Punjabi ritual national identity. Had they been from western India we would see Kajol going round a Banyan tree with a cord and praying to ‘Vat Savitri’ in her Manish Malhotra designed gorgeous sari. And trust me ‘Vat Savitri’ would become a national ritual.

Again, don’t get me wrong I like the idea of national identity I think we have spent too long in trying to understand our differences, I am perfectly comfortable in a national Bollywood identity. I am aware how important diversity is but identity is not a monolith, the more the flux the better it is.

Today it is hard to imagine Karva Chauth without Bollywood. How many of us would really be interested in the disturbing story of Queen Veeravati. Also, let’s be honest like most ‘kathas’ this story too is a complete mismatch with present day morality. I will not be unfair here because it is a crime to analyze an old story with our present moral lens. The point is Karva Chauth is glamorous unlike other festivals that are kept all over India for the same reason. Hartalika Teej is also for welfare of husband and family. The list is endless but Karva Chauth is the only one with limelight because of the movies.

So this post is really about praising the impact of Bollywood particularly the Chopras since they have achieved more than one thing. They introduced Valentine’s Day in urban India, they restructured the entire concept of marriage and above all they gave us Karva Chauth. Three cheers for SRK, Kajol and endless Mohabbatein.

And please can I now request Bollywood to bring back retro birthdays? I desperately want a Birthday where children dance in circles, there is a huge cake and table full of attractive gifts.

The Career Story

2010-10-18T02:45:00.010-04:00

As a kid one always considers numerous career options. We even write essays in school about what we want to do when we grow up. I certainly had no idea what I wanted to be but I knew I did not want to be a doctor. I hated hospitals (naturally), the smell of medicine, injections and lab coats. I definitely did not want to be the guy who gave you disgusting concoctions and sometimes injected you. Horrifying! I did not even like playing with ‘The Doctor Set’ that came to me as a birthday gift though I did use the stethoscope to sometimes examine my dolls.

I had also realized bus conductor, pilot and train drivers were not my cup of tea. Which meant most of the conventional career options were not available for me.

I wanted to be a superhero. I even had a costume worked out. But being a superhero meant getting up in the middle of the night to help people. It also meant lot of exercise. I immediately abandoned the idea and actually, this piece of wisdom came from another friend of mine who was thinking on similar lines. But now I feel he discouraged me to eliminate competition but then he too never became a superhero. Perhaps he was wise.

My next plan was to be a private detective. This could not go wrong. I could investigate during the day and sleep peacefully at night. I was great at talking to people, I could piece up clues, that’s it, that’s all I needed. I was so confident that I discussed it with my mother. This was a bad mistake. She discouraged me. She asked me to solve few puzzles and I failed miserably. Then brutally she told me if I could not solve such simple stuff I could never do anything bigger. I was even bad at Lego and this automatically meant I was spatially challenged. Don’t ask me how she made those connections but after I had fallen off my tricycle after bumping into a wall she drew those weird conclusions about me. True, I could not ride a tricycle and unlike most kids I kept falling off it; but come on which detective came in a tricycle! Give me a break.

I then decided on becoming a baker. This was a job where there was no scope of failing. If no one bought my cakes I would eat and finish them all! It was simple. I had watched people making cakes. All I had to do was mix flour, sugar, butter, eggs and milk and put it in an oven. Then I had to put the cakes in a tin trunk and go out yell ‘cake, cake bolo cake’ and get rich. But once again someone ruined my plans. I was told making cakes was not that simple. Also, my role model the tin trunk guy bought cakes from someone else and sold it. He was not rich and did not own a huge house near the Ganga as I had imagined.

After all my options died a premature death I decided to settle for either a lawyer (after watching B.R Chopra’s ‘Waqt’, don’t ask me why) or a Businesswoman. I, of course had no idea what it meant since it was totally inspired by Hema Malini’s character in ‘Trishul’. But these were just halfhearted decisions. I knew I could never be a movie star since I had to look like Hema Malini or Rekha. Even after 7 births (being born Hindu my grandma had said I have 7 chances) I would come nowhere near them. You see, when it came to looks I was practical. I knew where I stand.

However, like most kids I had this imaginary character in my mind. A rotund girl with two pigtails who got her powers from ‘Gulab Jamuns’. This again was stolen from Popeye I only replaced the food. But she was no superhero. She was a great detective. All she had to do was visit the scene of crime and the clues would float up automatically. If she needed extra powers to crack the mystery all she had to do was eat ‘Gulab Jamuns’. She was super rich since she had found treasure and lived in this beautiful house by the sea. When asked the question’ What do you do?’ she used to smile broadly and answer ‘I really don’t know. I guess I solve things.’ (again you have to realize my universe was totally constructed by movies, hence the smart answer instead of saying I am a detective.)

Ironically, the rotund girl never vanished. The pigtails did, not because of age but due to severe hair loss. And since there was no treasure the big house did not happen. Today if you ask me what I do I will say the same thing, ‘I really don’t know. I guess I do academia and ya sometimes I solve things…’

Murder of Crows

2010-09-04T01:31:00.003-04:00

I have very few childhood memories that haunt me. Since I had a peaceful almost bordering on boring childhood this one has stayed with me. I was about 8 years old then. On a horribly hot summer afternoon some guys in my neighborhood caught, tortured and killed a crow. I remember what I saw from my window. The main guy called Poltuda had laid some trap, caught and tied the crow up with a string and the bird helplessly struggled. Poltuda held the crow up like some trophy he had won and the others just cheered him. It was like some sort of a horrible black magic ritual. He took out a stick and started beating the crow slowly; this went on for a while. I remember being sick, afraid and yet hoping that the poor bird would live. It was an elaborate ritual of torture. After the slow beating they hung the bird upside down and left. They would simply not let the bird die. Poltuda wanted a long process of torture and others were enthusiastic spectators. They came back with different types of small sticks and kept poking the bird to check if it was alive. The moment the bird showed signs of life Poltuda would beat it lightly and keep poking it. After a while the beating increased, I closed my eyes and prayed ‘Please let the bird live, let it escape.’ When I opened my eyes the bird was on the road beaten to a pulp. The boys led by Poltuda marched proudly yelling ‘Ka, ka ka ka’, they even had a shrill whistle. This really was my first experience of such stark cruelty.

While my parents are indifferent to animals they would never ever dream of torturing animals, (most people don’t torture animals anyway) but my uncles go out of their way to care for animals. All my childhood I had seen them nursing injured birds to health, rescuing cats and reinstating them in our village farmhouse. They still do it but now they take care of the ones at home and don’t add new ones. Only much later in life I witnessed a mild form of animal torture by my two cousins whose excessive affection for the cats made the animals irritable. Those two got slapped by cats regularly but like my uncles they are also extremely kind and caring. But the point is I come from a family where kindness to animals is taken for granted. I know this sounds irritatingly syrupy but what can I do if these guys are like that. Even my Dina (Mom’s mom) went out of her way to take care of animals.

This incident naturally affected me deeply. But once the initial shock receded I was filled with deep anger and resentment. I wanted people to know how horrible Poltuda and his friends were but I never had the courage to talk about it. Also, no one seemed to discuss anything about what he had done. But Poltuda was a cruel young man. I had frequently seen him pelting dogs with stone, kicking them. I had even heard from my neighbor and best friend Tinku that he had killed some kittens by drowning them. Poltuda was perfectly capable of cruelty like this but Tinku was never the best source of information. A year younger than me Tinku was the biggest blather ever. He had told me countless urban legends of ‘Bhelpuri wala’ adding heroine in the chutney, about ice cream made with phlegm of the ice cream seller’s family, about the grocer who gave free poisoned chocolates to kids…in a nutshell one couldn’t trust Tinku completely.

Few years later, one afternoon as I was living the oxymoron of holiday homework in an especially excruciating summer afternoon Tinku came rushing to our apartment and said ‘You know Poltu Dada just died in a bus accident.’ I ran out with him to the main road near our house. Tinku had the correct information for a change. Poltuda lay dead and there seemed to be a horrible cacophony of crows. Later we found out that the bus driver kept saying he could not see anything because this sudden murder of crows came near the bus and completely blocked his vision. He did put a break but too late. Poltuda had died on spot. The crows hovered around him cawing like possessed birds. Poltuda died in the exact same way, smashed under a bus and crows applauding his death.

It’s Time for Bollywood Horror: Last Part (The Schools and more)

2010-08-28T04:41:00.003-04:00

Generalizing is important. Yes, yes, the Postmoderns will get angry, I will encourage stereotypes… but I have no choice. Tell me, what was the purpose of taking you through this journey if we finally did not find some common patterns?

If you remember I have deliberately ignored Talking about new horror movies. I have actually stopped at 1984, the year of ‘Purana Mandir’ and looked mainly at the Ramsay School of horror. I may not have seen all the horror films but I have seen enough to divide the genre in three main schools.

1. The Scientific School: Where the supernatural is natural. There are no ghosts bad guys do it to cover up their misdemeanors. Movies like Bees Saal Baad, Who Kaun Thi, Bhoot Bungla, Do Gaz Zameen ke Neeche and so on.

2. The Ramsay School of Horror: Ghosts, Ghouls, Witches, Demons and Shaitan. These are uncomplicated ghosts. They are straightforward evil beings who come out of dungeons, kill people and can be easily killed by Trishul or Cross. Darwaza, Purana Mandir, Veerana, Purani Haveli, Taikhana, Bandh Darwaza, Aakhiri Cheekh, Khooni Murda and way too many to note. The Ramsay School is the most influential one in this category. But keep in mind, Ramsays made films in both categories Scientific and their own school. See, this is not Gandhara and Mathura School of Art that you have to stick to types. Ramsays’ very first hit was a thriller.

3. The Others: Complicated spooks, possessions and copying Asian horror. I will keep the movie Gehrayee aside, it’s a masterpiece. But ‘the first movie in this category is ‘Jadu Tona’. Then you have the great Ram Gopal Verma bring his Asian inspired style and giving us movies like Bhoot and Vastu Shastra. Then suddenly the Asian flow came in with movies like Naina. But not all new horror films belong to this group. Vikram Bhatt is very much a Ramsay School man and the Ramsays’ are still around.

I know this kind of categorization has flaws. But let’s not waste time on flaws, as Paulo Coelho tells us let’s talk of ‘good things’. Let us discuss the structure of the Ramsay School of horror since that was the most important school.

The Evil: This is the soul of a horror film. How you design your bad guy is the most important thing here. I mean do you remember anything about the Movie ‘IT’ besides Pennywise? Similarly, the dark side has to win here! The Ramsay school is marked by evil you can deal with. These are straight forward old world demons who fear god. There is good and there is evil. Good is greater than evil so evil loses. These ghosts normally haunt mansions, dungeons and forests. They are huge creatures with bloodshot eyes, they often have fangs and yes they fit every elementary concept of monsters.

The Context: Why will this evil come and harm you? Again there are clear-cut boundaries. If you are a follower of Ramsay School, evil will not come walking to you. It’s your stupidity, stubbornness or bad decision that will take you to evil. Demons peacefully live in the woods where they live a life of ‘Jaadu tona and kala ilm’. Some self righteous king goes and finishes them off and then lock up the body in dungeon. To stop the ghoul from coming out and haunting he either puts a Trishul or a cross near it. Both are equally effective. But someone enriched by ‘kala ilm’ will not die easily so he remains trapped there. The king’s family inevitably moves to the city and then after generations another self righteous guy comes and brings back the ghoul. He then kills few innocents and finally gets killed by Trishul or cross.

The Sex: There are always beautiful, plump women who love to bathe. Remember, love and sex are equally important. But once the demon is unleashed love takes a backseat and yes the demons are often…well…they kinda like women!

The Comedy: A comic sub-plot is essential. And it is important to ensure that the sub plot has no connection with the main story. The sub plot has to have sexual innuendos, that’s a must. If you are following the Ramsay school, the hero has to have a funny friend who will not get affected by the evil. And he will have a parallel adventure of his own.

I will go on a little bit more about the comic sub-plot. It is rather unique to the Ramsay school. The Ramsay Brothers actually came up with excellent sub plots. In ‘Sannata’ there is Mehmood and Jayshree T as lovers who haunt a guest house and scare the guests away. The movie is not even horror, it’s a thriller.

In ‘Aakhiri Cheekh’, Rajendra Nath plays a detective who investigates with gigantic specs and magnifying glass. Again this is a story that has no connection with the main plot.

The Locales and other essentials: You have to find a mansion with dungeons. Or things won’t work at all. The only place where haunting will happen are woods, mansion and the dungeon. You need a lake inside the forest. Also, remember every movie has to have a car journey and the couple has to spend a night either in the car and confront a ghost or go to a ‘Dak Bungla’ and confront a ghost. This is the prelude to the evil that’s about to come.

Once again these are simply generalizations. Don’t tell me things like ‘But Veerana was so different.’ I know that! Or ‘But in ‘Aur Kaun’ there is no comic sub-plot’. Again, I know that! last but certainly not the least remember Bollywood had no concept of horror till the Ramsay Brothers came in. So, next time you praise some ‘intelligently made’ horror flick keep in mind that they were the pioneers. You may have issues with their plot and direction (after all each to their own) but pioneers are pioneers. And that is important.

It’s Time for Bollywood Horror: Part 3 (The 80’s Hollywood and Influences)

2010-08-14T03:08:00.007-04:00

In the very first part I said if I had to ‘categorize’ the history horror movies in Bollywood then it has two phases. Before Purana Mandir and after Purana Mandir. Having talked about the Black and White biggies, now I want to mention few other horror films that were not made by the Ramsays, but, they clearly fall in the horror category.

I will begin with ‘Jaadu Tona’ (1977), a movie clearly inspired by ‘The Exorcist’. Inspired because this is very much a masala revenge story. A spirit treacherously murdered by his business partners possesses a child’s body and then proceeds to take revenge by killing them all. ‘Jadu Tona’ again is a confused apologetic movie. Apologetic because somehow the movie keeps stressing on science and how nature can never be understood. Keep in mind Ramsay Brothers ‘Do Gaz Zameen ke Neeche’ and ‘Aur Kaun’ had both released before this one.

Jaani Dushman in 1979 was a big success. Jaani Dushman was made by Rajkumar Kohli a man who will simply stun you. I have watched everything he has made and even though I stay prepared the man manages to shell shock me. With Rajkumar Kohli you have to remember that you are entering a terrain of total anarchy. I have never seen anyone with such a twisted sense of morality. It’s so disturbing that it makes Kevin Spacey from ‘Seven’ seem like a guy you can have beer with and understand! No, trust me he will make you rethink the very fundamentals of justice and humane values. So, Jaani Dushman is not about a monster who kills people. That happens only in the periphery. The main story is about a bunch of psychopaths marooned in a village and they are all messing up each other. No, this is not at all like Christie’s ‘Then There were None’, this is an altogether different ball game. This is horror in a very profound way. Some day I would love to discuss the mental health of Mr. Kohli since I believe his movies are a reflection of his psyche, however, I do not know anyone who has been able to endure all his films and is ready to sit over mulled cider and discuss this with me.

1980 saw the release of ‘Gehrayee’, which in my opinion is the best movie on Black Magic. This movie is a masterpiece. Deeply disturbing, dark and totally unsettling. To begin with the script is outstanding. A young girl played by Padmini Kolhapure is possessed by a spirit and the entire movie is based on her gradual deterioration and her final cure. However, as the name suggests ‘Gehrayee’ is not a simple story, it talks of how one small mistake leads to dark events and it gets deeper and deeper as one probes into it. Padmini Kolhapure is spectacular; I am surprised she did not get an award for this role. Anant Nag who plays her elder brother is also brilliant. Sadly, the movie is so underrated and never got it’s due. It’s a shame!

The late 70’s and early 80’s was a time when Bollywood made actual horror and not always offered the strictly rational scientific explanations like the previous decade. This is because Hollywood played a major role in shaping the thought ferment. Hollywood too had developed it’s distinct style of horror and one can see the Ramsay Brothers were inspired by it. Films made by Hammer Studio also played a big role. The Dracula series, the Frankenstein series were all made by the U.K based Hammer Studios and for a horror film fan the name Hammer has the same impact as the Ramsays have on the Indian cine goers.

Let me take a minute here and compare Hammer Studios and Ramsay Productions. You see, both were known for Gothic horrors and the moment they did something else the audience did not like it. Ramsays did make suspense but it was never as well received as their horror. Similarly Hammer studios psychological thrillers are also underrated like ‘Never Take Sweets from a Stranger’, it’s actually one of my favorite films made by Hammer Studio.

Hollywood movies like Friday the 13^th (1980), Evil Dead (1981) and The Nightmare of Elm Street (1984) were huge hits in India. I have some very interesting childhood memories attached to these movies.

Those were the days I barely understood English, I could only comprehend Charlie Chaplin and Laurel and Hardy. My uncle had heard so much about ‘Evil Dead’ that he got it on Videotape to watch it. I remember being actually sick with fear. My mother had walked out of the room but my Uncle and I stayed on. When the movie finished both of us could barely move and the electricity went off. The second time I experienced the same fear while watching ‘The Ring’ in theater. But after that uncle and I were hooked. We soon moved to Friday the 13^th, Halloween and finally Nightmare of Elm Street. The 80’s was a great year for horror films. I mean the decade started with ‘The Shining’ and even had movies like The Gremlins, The Scanners and Tim Burton’s ‘Beetlejuice’ (the reason behind mentioning Burton is simply because I am a big fan and does not imply that I have no clue about who made ‘The Shining’, I do!).

This wonderful bouquet of horror films was bound to have some impact and it did. Only we haven’t been able to capitalize on Samri and Nikita, and they never became iconic like Freddie Kruger and Jason. Ramsay Brothers did understand the importance of reiterating a theme and certain figures that invoked fear. Ajay Agrawal was simply amazing as Samri and the Ramsay Brothers did a brilliant job by repeating him in their movies and Samri still captivates our imagination.

I will stop now. But in the next and final part I will talk about the morphology of horror films in Bollywood.

Mohan Bhakri for Beginners: Get your Basics Clear!

2010-07-29T23:53:00.004-04:00

(Did not follow a Mohan Bhakri movie? Totally zapped? No idea who the hell became the ghost? Who killed whom? All your worries are now over! This book is especially designed to help you get a rock solid foundation on the visionary filmmaker Mohan Bhakri. using ‘Cheekh’ (1985) as the base. We will give you all the basics of understanding Bhakri. Don’t believe it! Our expert after years and years of research has made this possible. Here is an extract of the seminal book.)

The Introduction: Of course we all know who Mohan Bhakri is but it is customary in guidebooks to give some sort of an introduction. He is a filmmaker whose movies are dense and difficult to comprehend. Film critics have not focused on his work simply because they did not have this guidebook to help them out. Don’t smirk. You have tried watching Bhakri alone and did not understand it at all. So, wipe off that silly grin.

Some of his important movies are Cheekh, Khooni Murda, Kabrasthan, Khooni Mahal, Sau Saal Baad, Hathyarin and Ruhani Taqat. He has made many more movies we are just discussing the important ones. It’s a guidebook for God’s sake not some research paper! Jeez.

Is it necessary for me to know the basics of Postmodernism if I am watching Mohan Bhakri: Well, you need to understand one thing. Postmodernism is simply not an academic endeavor. A major tenet of Postmodernism is to get away from ‘objectivity’, fixed narrative points of view and clear cut (I am always right types) moral position. Keep in mind disconnected stories, fragmented narratives are all product of Postmodernism. So far so good. If you didn’t get it we suggest you buy ‘Mohan Bhakri for Imbecile Beginners’ that book will help you. Just go and buy that don’t waste your time reading this anymore.

Bhakri’s movies have flopped. Right! Says Who? ‘Cheekh’ was a huge success so much so that even the Ramsays were forced to come up with ‘Aakhri Cheekh’ and it clearly was a weak answer to Bhakri’s success. Flop is a foolish word to use. All his movies have made money. You don’t agree? Prove it. Get us the figures, facts stop arguing for the sake of sounding smart. You have no data, we do.

Tell me why I never know who becomes the ghost in Bhakri’s movies, other movies I get very clear idea. That’s why we discussed Postmodernism first. Stop thinking that there is one ‘shaitan’ that everyone will run and destroy. See, monster is there in all of us and Bhakri’s movies simply showcase that. Today the monster is you the next day it’s in me. Confused? Let’s talk of ‘Cheekh’.

There is an evil ‘thakur’ (Madan Puri) who first ensures that a family is ostracized and tortured till they burn themselves to death and then goes and rapes a newly wed bride and then gets the bride and groom killed. We know what you are thinking. If they were newly wed why did they have a random 7 year old child sitting on their bed! Remember the first step, don’t go by your perception of social norms. The child is simply there because she has to witness the massacre and then grow up to be dysfunctional. Ok moving on, old Madan Puri is now repentant of all that he had done in the past and dotes on his only daughter Deepa (Deepika). You are now going to argue and say but all this happened so suddenly before we could even understand what Madan Puri has done we have to witness Deepika and Madhu Malhotra bathing in the river. And just as we are looking at the two beauties we are suddenly assaulted by Rajendra Nath who plays the milkman and makes crass jokes with the servant.

Stop thinking of pattern and structures here. We realize that years of formal rational education has somewhat limited your thought ferment.

So, what we will do here is give you the core idea of Bhakri’s films. Revenge. But not the traditional eye for eye thing. You killed my wife so I will do my bit by killing yours, that’s what rationality says. Not Bhakri. In Bhakri’s film I will sleep with your wife, kill your maid servant make her a ghost and then she will kill an evil tanrik who had no logical connection to the story. Just pay attention here. The structure is very much like subconscious thought processes.

Let’s do a simple exercise here. Link thoughts to words….ok! let’s go. Other man’s wife..bed, maid servant…trouble (a thought which is result of media expose of Shiney Ahuja), tantric…death. See, Bhakri goes by these loose random connections and then frames his story around that.

Can you please tell me a simple thing. Was Cheekh a horror or a suspense movie? I realized that the girl had killed everyone then who was the ghost? Just stop labels. Get one thing clear. Cheekh is a profound philosophical statement so stop calling it horror/ suspense and so on. Yes, there was a woman who pretended to be Deepika’s friend Rita (Madhu Malhotra) and killed her father (Madan Puri) and her servant. She was the child who was sitting on the newly wed’s couple’s bed the day the horrible incident happened and she paid them back.

The ghost was Rohit (Raza Murad) who pretended to die but actually he was alive.

Wait. Am more confused. Why was Rita sleeping with Deepa’s husband Sunil (Javed Khan)? That makes no sense. There is a simple answer for that. Javed Khan is a chick magnet! And he did what magnets do. Your problem is looking for a ‘story’ that will make sense. Get this folks, it’s an amalgamation of fragmented narratives.

Let me give you another example from the film ‘Kafan’. . It is a very difficult story to understand. A disreputable gang led by Raza Murad, Mac Mohan and company are followers of a black magician. The evil shaman in order to complete some ritual asks for the body of a virgin. Now they decide to offer Murad’s domestic help’s daughter to the shaman. But before offering her to the shaman Mac Mohan and another friend decide to rape her. Their logic ‘How will the shaman find out she is not a virgin!’ (nudge, nudge, wink wink). So they rape her and then give her body to him. Now during the ritual the body dies turns into a horrible monster and kills everyone performing the ritual. Meanwhile Jamuna who is not connected to anything gets strange visions. All this happens within 5 mins of the movie! What is it? Butterfly effect? Ritual gone wrong or some transformation of the oppressed feminine form! Bhakri will always leave behind such conundrums.

I don’t know am not sure how much this guide helped me. I mean how can this help me to understand all of Bhakri’s movies? The purpose of this guidebook is to make you appreciate and understand Bhakri. You are clearly not smart enough to ‘grasp’ it all.

For example, in ‘Khooni Murda’ when the ghost comes to kill Huma Khan instead of focusing on the kill the poltergeist just starts frying eggs. What you would have done before reading this guidebook was to make dumb comments like ‘What nonsense’, ‘What the hell’ and the proceed to use some other four-letter words. But now you will see it as the unfolding of an uneven narrative dictated by the subconscious and the beauty of ‘automatic’ filmmaking.

Can you then tell me why is Bhakri’s name not amongst great filmmakers?

To know the answer to this and many such riddles grab your copy of the brilliant guidebook today! Available at ‘Crossroads’ and ‘Unmark’.

It’s Time for Bollywood Horror: Part 2 (The Black and White Box Office Biggies)

2010-07-26T00:19:00.002-04:00

I see Indian horror films as Ramsay and non-Ramsay. The Ramsay category is for all who joined the Ramsay caravan and copied their style. Mohan Bhakri being the major one and many others followed them. I had defined earlier why I consider Ramsay’s as the pioneers of horror cinema. One may insist that they were ‘inspired’ by Hollywood’s trend of the 80’s, but the fact remains that Ramsay’s gave Bollywood it’s own distinct style of horror. Ya, you got it, I am a big Ramsay fan, always been one.

The non-Ramsay category is for all those stray horror movies that did well at the box office but did not actually establish horror as a genre. Now, none of these films will fit our present definition of horror. They were mysteries, but supernatural played a big role in them and back then they did manage to scare the audience considerably.

The first horror movie to actually captivate me was ‘Who kaun Thi’. In some T.V program that was simply showing glimpses of movies I saw Manoj Kumar giving a lift to Sadhna in his car and then she disappears in the graveyard. Of course, I was scared but certainly more intrigued than scared. Few days after that, in ‘Chitrahar’ (not sure though) I heard ‘Aayega Aanewala’ from ‘Mahal’, again more than scared I was intrigued. My grandmother later told me that ‘Mahal’ is one of the scariest things she had ever watched….

So, here in looking back I am choosing some very successful movies with one exception. Kohra, this one bombed at the box office but fits the theme I am looking at. I am certain that there are more ‘spooky’ movies that I do not know of but I am covering all the major successes. One movie that I am missing out on is ‘Tower House’ that came in 1962, simple, I have not been able to get my hands on it.

Let me start with ‘Mahal’ that released in 1949. I scanned my memory but I could not think of anything earlier than ‘Mahal’, so I will start with ‘Mahal’. More than suspense or thriller this movie is a tragedy. The story is about Shankar’s (Ashok Kumar) obsession with the ghost who haunts the ancient mansion he has bought. He also finds out that the previous owner was his look alike who had died of heartbreak (well, tragic death where lovers don’t meet) and his lover’s spirit (Madhubala) still haunts the mansion. To get rid of his growing madness and his fixation with the spirit his friend forces him to get married to the beautiful Ranjana (Vijaylakshmi) hoping this will change things. But he is so obsessed with the ghost that he sends his wife off to a dilapidated shack and she finally kills herself. When accused with the ‘murder’ of his wife he finds out that the ‘ghost’ was none other than his servant’s daughter Asha who had fallen in love with the portrait and obviously fell instantly in love with him. Why all this charade… I guess back then mental illness was not really a theme of movies, ok, admitted Fritz Lang had made ‘M’ ages back but Kamal Amrohi doesn’t see the potential this film had in talking about seriously screwed up people. It really is a tragedy caused by mental illness. Mahal was a massive disappointment on the personal front and as suchI have never been a big Kamal Amrohi fan though I did like Razia Sultan. But coming back to horror, ‘Mahal’ was one of the first movies that had predominant presence of spooks and a thriller.

Let’s now move to ‘Bees Saal Baad’ that introduced Biswajeet in 1962. All right, all right, introducing Bisawjeet itself was the horror! Agreed. But ‘Bees Saal Baad’ is an engaging murder mystery. Critics have said that this movie was inspired by ‘Hound of Baskervilles’, believe me, it’s not. Tell me can you see Holmes being anything like Biswajit and then go out and sing ‘Bekarar karke humein yun naa jaayiye’, to Waheeda Rehman. Also, do you think Biswajit is remotely capable of solving a murder mystery? The story is about a ‘Jagirdar’ who rapes a girl and she kills herself. The vengeful spirit of the girl keeps killing all the male members of the family, twenty years later Biswajit turns up to unearth the secret of his father and uncle’s death. The comic relief in the movie Gopichan Jasoos (played by Asit Sen) is very refreshing. Unlike ‘Mahal’ this one is a genuine whodunit fun.

The team Hemant Kumar and Biren Naug that brought ‘Bees Saal Baad’ came up with another Biswajit - Waheeda combo in 1964 called ‘Kohra’. This time they had the wisdom to focus on Waheeda, and Indianized Hitchcock’s ‘Rebecca’. No, there are differences. Unlike the actual movie where just the ‘presence’ of ‘Rebecca’ is overwhelming, this one has a clear-cut spook that sings and haunts the palace. But for ‘Rebecca’, I always recommend the book. Nothing can come close to it.

‘Who Kaun Thi’ in 1964 was another very good thriller. Dr. Anand (Manoj Kumar) is repeatedly haunted by a beautiful spirit (Sadhana) and then lands up marrying a woman who looks exactly like the spirit. Why? His fiancé Seema (Helen) is murdered and he just marries in rebound without actually looking at the girl! To add to his pain the spirit keeps appearing and haunting him. The end is all happy when the mystery gets sorted out. ‘Who Kaun Thi’, is a decent watch and the music is wonderful.

Bhoot Bungla (1965) was directed by Mehmood and is again a murder mystery. This one is a delightful watch and is extremely lively despite the dark theme. It even has a nice cameo by R.D. Burman. Seth Kundanlal, is murdered in his bungalow and his wife and kid disappear. The Bungalow then becomes haunted. Several years later three nephews of Kundanlal (Nassir Hussain, Nana Palsikar and Asit Sen) start living in that bungalow. When Ramlal’s (Nana Palsiker) daughter Rekha (Tanuja) is about to return from England he is murdered and his death is followed by the mysterious suicide of the youngest brother Asit Sen. Shocked and afraid, Nassir Hussain and Tanuja leave the bungalow and start living in the city. But Tanuja is haunted by mysterious phone calls that threatens to kill her. She then asks Mohan (Mehmood, who eventually becomes her boyfriend) to go and investigate the matter. The rest of course is solving the case and a happy ending. In case you did not know this movie has super hit songs like ‘Aao twist karein’ and ‘Jaago sone walon, suno meri kahani’.

I will wind up here, since the mind can’t take more than that. There is the third part coming soon.

It's time for Bollywood Horror: Part I (The Ramsay Introduction)

2010-07-23T00:07:00.006-04:00

(This post is the first part of Bollywood Horror films, something very close to my heart)

Ramsay Brothers. …… no faces come to mind, you immediately see dungeons, monster in chains, coffins, graveyard, mansions and disturbing grandfather clocks. For some ‘evolved’ ones (like yours truly) there is the vivid image of Samri, dialogue delivery of Imtiaz Khan, the jokes of Rajendra Nath and Birbal …let’s put it this way, it’s a wholesome experience.

Let me tell you some interesting facts about the Ramsay Brothers that you may not know. You see, not many people have the time and the inclination to sit and contemplate about Ramsay movies. No worries. What am I here for? I have the time, the perseverance and the aptitude for this.

Now, Purana Mandir was released in 1984 and became a major success at the box office. Since then Ramsay Brothers stuck to that ‘style’ and ‘theme’ except for ‘Telephone’ in 1985, with Shatrughan Sinha and Parveen Babi which was a thriller and in my opinion their weakest movie. But Ramsay Brothers had a long list of movies before ‘Purana Mandir’ came along. The themes are varied, though (fortunately) all revolve round horror and suspense. To me it seemed that the Ramsay Brothers were perhaps looking for a ‘niche’ or a ‘formula’ and then they struck gold with ‘Purana Mandir’, which is THE HORROR FILM of Bollywood.

Ok let’s discuss this issue first. I don’t consider ‘Jaani Dushman’ or ‘Jadu Tona’ as first horrors simply because they did not influence or inspire any trend. Whereas ‘Purana Mandir’ created a trend of horror cinema that was new to Bollywood. No, the Ramsays were not the only players here. Mohan Bhakri’s ‘Khooni Mahal’ came in 1987, ‘Kabrasthan’ in 1988 and ‘Cheekh’ came in 1989. What ‘Purana Mandir’ did was to create a market for this horror theme that came with mild doses of sex and ‘adult’ comedy. It really formed the concept of ‘adult’ cinema in the 80’s.

But going back to what I started with, Ramsay Brothers first success was ‘Do Gaz Zameen ke Neeche’ in 1972. This thriller is about a rich scientist (Rajvansh) who is seduced by a scheming girl and her uncle. He accidentally poisons himself and becomes paralytic. In no time taking advantage of his paralysis the wife with the help of her uncle and her lover murders him. But the villainous team’s happiness is short lived since Rajvansh returns as a ‘Zombie’ to haunt them. Now, the concept of ‘Zombies’ was perhaps totally unknown to Indians. So, Ramsays just simplified the idea. Zombies are a tribe in Africa who knew the secret of preserving the dead bodies and making them ‘function’ like living beings. The scientist discovers this secret of ‘preserving’ bodies and then comes back from the dead to haunt the miscreants.

‘Darwaza’ in 1978 had most of the elements that later became signature Ramsay style. Suraj Singh (played by Anil Dhawan) is haunted by nightmares every night and eventually discovers that his nightmares will end if he can unearth the secret behind the ’door’ that keeps appearing in his nightmares. Well, Suraj is a prince and his father had incurred a curse by killing the priest of a Kali temple. Suraj then along with his wife Rachna (Shyamalee) journeys to the old ‘Haveli’ to put an end to his nightmares for good. In ‘Darwaza’ we come across monster lurking in the dungeons, a hostile tribe that hates city folks (another Ramsay staple) and a family curse that has to be settled full and final.

‘Ghungroo ki Awaz’ in 1981 was a Navketan Production but directed by the Ramsay Brothers. The story revolves round Thakur Ranjit Singh (Vijay Anand) who under a misconstruction kills his innocent fiancé Kajal (Rekha) and her lover. The wronged woman then comes back to haunt him and finally drives him insane. This movie is again a thriller. This one is a very different Ramsay movie and R.D Burman’s music somehow creates a very different effect as compared to Ramsay favorites, Bappi Lahiri and Sonik Omi.

They did use Usha Khanna and Sapan Jagmohan occasionally, but Ramsays as such were great team players. They always stuck to their favorites, Imtiaz Khan, Birbal, Rajendra Nath, Narendra Nath, Pinchoo Kapoor, Sapru, Meena T and then in lead roles Anil Dhawan, Vijay Arora and Navin Nischol. This team continued after ‘Purana Mandir’ era only new names like Vijeyndra Ghatge, Marc Zuber, Hemant Birje, Deepak Parashar, Huma Khan, Satish Shah and many others got added to the list. In fact one of the reasons why some people tend to get confused in Ramsay movies is because the cast rarely changes.

1981 saw the release of ‘Dahshat’ with Navin Nischol in the lead role as Dr. Sameer, a capable physician who had just come back to his village from Russia. During his absence a figure dressed as the grim reaper steals dead bodies from their graves. The movie however, is not about these disappearing bodies. In this almost ‘Psycho’ like twist we realize the movie actually belongs to Om Shivpuri who plays Dr. Vishal a physician who carries out strange experiments with animals in his mansion’s dungeon. Again, this is not about his experiments in bio science, the movie is actually a simplified version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde where Dr. Vishal eventually becomes a monster because his aggrieved wife (Nadira) injects him with some deadly potion that he had himself concocted.

Again in 1981 came ‘Hotel’ with Navin Nischol in the lead role supported by Rakesh Roshan. Somehow Navin Nischol was an atypical Ramsay protagonist. He never actively did anything. While the likes of Anil Dhawan and Vijay Arora worked very hard to combat the monsters Nischol just let the monsters do what they wanted. Just like ‘Dahshat’ where he simply watched the transformation of Om Shivpuri and finally commented ‘Kudrat se koi nahi lad sakta’, (No one can fight nature) he did exactly the same here. A iniquitous team led by Ranjit duped a priest and acquired a plot of land that was an old graveyard for making a luxury hotel. The poor priest was under the misapprehension that the land was for an orphanage. Upon finding out that he had been conned, his heart simply stopped. But when the hotel is completed the dead rise and kill all the miscreants. It is very much an offbeat revenge story. Finally, Nischol and Roshan decipher the message of the ghosts and turn the hotel into an orphanage. Now you will obviously wonder what Nischol and Roshan do here. Well they are the owners of the Hotel but when the spirits arrive to seek vengeance they just watch as spectators. Rakesh Roshan, at least makes an effort to do something but Nischol takes the role of the spectator very seriously. You will wonder how Nischol could be so indifferent when so many things happened in his life. But as I said Nischol just believes in Dev Anand 'Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya.'

This brings us to the end of part I and this exercise was to try and give some grounding to Ramsay brothers. Let me see how the journey continues.

Thanks to: Aseem Chandaver, Arnab Ray and Pranab sarma for encouraging my love for the genre.

One bad story and two recipes

2010-07-12T22:44:00.007-04:00

I am a foodie and I love to cook, now that everyone knows. In fact I have often contemplated about writing a food blog side by side, however, I know so many outstanding cooks that I simply can’t bring myself to write that blog. But just to compensate for that desire I write on food as often as I can.

The best food ever of my life was at my maternal grandfather’s place when my grandma was alive. It was a feast everyday. At least eight different types of veggies, three different types of fish, beans, desserts I often thought I had died and this was heaven. Well, back then I was innocent and my concept of heaven was pretty much limited to food.

Recently, I was reading a piece from an anthology where housewives of New England had passionately argued over the ‘correct’ recipe of clam chowder, and then there was another piece on recipe of clam bake, the arguments were intense! Initially I was very amused. Why the hell was Aunt Cora so upset because young Lucy got the amount of clam juice incorrectly! But then I realized how much people I know fight over ‘correct recipes’.

This story is about Mrs. Ganguly and Mrs. Ghosh, two passionate cooks, archenemies, rivals; in more poetic Urdu term ‘Raqeeb’. They lived next door to each other in an apartment building in Calcutta.

Both were extremely particular about their cooking. For example, they would never substitute yogurt with tomatoes in fish curry which some slapdash incompetent cooks (like me) do. They would never use ready mixes, for them garam masala was strictly limited to cardamom, cinnamon and cloves, store bought garam masala was a sin to be punished by starvation and imprisonment. You can imagine how much the two cared about their cooking.

The two chefs started out as friends, they had their ‘differences’ but that was all right. Of course it disturbed Mrs. Ganguly that Mrs. Ghosh actually used onions in her masoor dal (red lentils), for Mrs. Ganguly masoor dal only had ‘randhuni and kanch lonka’ (celery seeds and green peppers). She had tried to discuss this with her husband but he had no interest in the subject at all.

Trouble started when young Deepti came to stay in the next apartment. Deepti was a bright young girl, her husband worked in the Merchant Navy so he was seldom home. She had a two-year-old son and Deepti was the cook from their nightmare. Deepti claimed she loved to cook. But Deepti appalled both of them when she made fish curry. Deepti was a horror, she used curry leaves and cilantro in the same dish! She randomly used chopped onions instead of grating it to a paste and then the actual nightmare. She put a spoonful of some packaged ‘fish masala’. That’s it they had to teach Deepti, this was simply not acceptable. ‘But it tastes good!’ Deepti insisted. No! they simply wouldn’t have it. And it was Deepti’s training that ruined their relationship.

Instead of dividing their labor, they taught the same thing to Deepti and the cold war started. If Deepti made mixed vegetable with shrimps, then the other would come and openly humiliate the dish by saying, ‘Mixed vegetable is vegetarian! Only bad cooks resort to shrimps. Just use ‘panch phoron’ (Bengali five spice) and ginger and slow cook it! Some people have no idea of how to cook vegetables.’ This kept happening everyday and Deepti liked it all. In their desire to teach her, Deepti never had to cook. They both came and almost did everything for her. Deepti was one the type who never got irritated by continuous interruptions but it bothered her that the two ‘aunties’ were not talking to each other anymore. Deepti often tried to talk to them about rekindling their friendship but the other would say ‘All these years, I had no clue she did not know how to make 'chingri macher malaikari' (Prawns in coconut milk) and all she did was to brag and brag about her cooking. No, she is a fake’. The other would say ‘See what she taught you, she has no idea of how to make ‘Dimer jhol’ (Egg curry) such a simple thing and she says she can cook. My foot! She is a moron.’

How does the story end! The story doesn’t end. The two rivals did not become friends till the day they died and Deepti moved to the U.S with her family . Ok, don’t get mad it was hardly a story. I know that, that’s why just to make up for it here are two very simple recipes from Deepti’s cookbook! No she never learnt the ‘right’ way to cook.

Super Easy Oven Friend Chicken

Chicken pcs (1lb) but you could take a whole chicken and cut it up/

Mayo (home made is best, Miracle Whip will do just fine) 2 ½ cups.

Breadcrumbs (you can also Panko or any Japanese tempura batter): A big pack you will need enough to coat it very well.

Mustard 1 teaspoon

Black Pepper (you decide)

Coat the chicken pieces in mayo, be generous if it takes more than the required amount add more mayo. Add the mustard. Put it in the refrigerator overnight and then take it out next day and bring it to room temperature. Coat the pieces with breadcrumbs, again be generous. Put the chicken pieces in a ziplock bag add the breadcrumbs and shake it well.

Preheat the oven to 400`F. Bake for 40-45 mins till juices run clear.

Kalakand (Milk Fudge)

Ricotta 1 big tub

Sweetened condensed milk 2 cans

Ground cardamom (if you like it, I use Vanilla essence)

Ghee or butter

Grease a microwavable dish with ghee or butter. Empty out the ricotta in a bowl and mix it well with condensed milk. See, the idea is the proportion of milk and ricotta should be the same. If you think this is way too sweet then add slightly less condensed milk but just little less. Also mix it lightly with spatula don’t get ambitious and put it in food processor. Add cardamom powder or vanilla.

Now put the bowl in microwave on high for 5 mins. Keep an eye pls don’t let it boil over and spill. Stir it and put it again for 5 mins, always keep an eye don’t let it spill over. It will be done in 15-20 mins. Make sure the liquid is gone and it has a grainy feel. Once it’s cooled you can cut it out and garnishing is up to you. I personally like my Kalakand plain.

Chicken recipe is www.allrecipes.com

Kalakand Recipe is www.bongcookbook.com

The Darjeeling Limited

2010-06-27T10:37:00.011-04:00

Going to Darjeeling was always not easy. My uncle’s family is perpetually heading for Darjeeling. Traffic in Calcutta! Let’s go to a cooler place. Good pork dumplings….Darjeeling, the tea was too strong, we need Darjeeling. All right, all right I exaggerate but going to Darjeeling is not difficult at all. On the contrary it’s a fun journey.

This story takes place when Darjeeling was not that accessible. Before the Farakka Barrage was built. One had to take a train from Sheldah station, get down at some odd hour, run towards the steamers and cross the Ganges and then again board the train to New Jalpaigudi station. Then from there take the ‘toy train’ to Darjeeling. Well, the tough part was getting in the train with luggage, then rushing with family and baggage to the steamer, again getting back on train…certainly a cumbersome process.

There lived a family of five, Mom, Dad two sons and a daughter, in central Calcutta who decided to go to Darjeeling during the summer vacations. But before I proceed with the story a background about the family is a must. It is one of those ‘concerned’ families where the keyword is ‘caution’. No, caution is a good thing am not being tongue in cheek here….let’s say the kids are playing and there is a light drizzle, the mom just drags them in and says ‘You irresponsible brats, you will catch death of a cold’. These kids have mild nourishing curries at home and stay far away from anything spicy, their water is boiled, as I said the operative word here is caution.

So a trip to Darjeeling was a big deal. Back then we did not have information at our fingertips, grapevine and hearsay played a major role and often replaced basic facts. ‘Darjeeling is very cold in May. And the cold attacks you suddenly. You start from home all dressed in summer clothing it’s all fine and then suddenly in the middle of the night it’s freezing. Like an avalanche smothering you in it’s harsh, merciless bone chilling cold. Before you can get up and take out your warm clothes from the suitcase it’s all over. You have pneumonia. ‘

Had they not bought their tickets the family would have canceled the trip. But it was too late. The deed was done. They now had to face the sudden onslaught of brutal cold. This indeed was a matter of grave concern; preparation for an event like this was necessary. They bought as much woolies as they could. Nothing fancy, those thick itchy woolies. Monkey caps, scarves, gloves, turtle neck sweaters, name it they had it. But Darjeeling cold was sneaky, it would attack you when you were not ready.

25^th May, Calcutta. A hot, hot, hot summer day about 38`C people at Shealdah station witnessed a sight they would never forget. A family of 5 dressed top to toe in woolies. The kids, in monkey caps, gloves, sweaters, two adults in sweaters and shawls heading for a train that will take them to New Jalpaigudi after 26 hrs or more. Obviously strangers were baffled. The kids could barely walk and one of them kept insisting ‘Ma, at least let me take off my gloves’. ‘NO! Don’t you know what Mukherjee Mamu told you, it gets suddenly cold. Remember what happened to his cousin’s family doctor’s son Piklu, he got pneumonia.’ Even when they were coming out of their house dressed like that their neighbors had asked them a likely question ‘Why are you wearing the woolies now? The children look terrible’. ‘It’s better to be uncomfortable now than to land up in a hospital with pneumonia’, dad replied.

Unfortunately, all of them were hospitalized. Try wearing woolies in 38` and see what happens. You get fever. They never made it to Darjeeling, in fact they never made it to New Jalpaigudi either. It was much before that at some station, I don’t remember the name, one of the kids had fainted and was so sick that he required immediate medical attention.

See, the sad part of it is when events like this happen there is no sympathy instead you become the butt of all jokes. Life is never fair. Your parents abuse you, you land up in a hospital, your summer holidays are ruined but no one sees it this way. You are the chap who was hospitalized because you wore a woolen monkey cap on 25^th May in Calcutta. However, the good part is you are remembered for generations and hey people use your story to amuse, impress, entertain. It's a rare honor I tell you. So! Here’s a toast to caution and to woolies in summer afternoons. Cheers!

I may not be totally correct on the info about the route but the catching of the steamer part is correct.