Hum Aapke Hain D.

Hum Aapke Hain D.

This would be the name of the movie which would be made in Bollywood on Dawood – Miandad wedding. The movie would require not one but two expert directors. One of them would be of course Ram Gopal Verma, who is expert in handling the gangster related films and the other would be Suraj Badjatya (You forgot who he was, right?) who is expert in making films involving marriages.

Who will finance this film? This is the most naïve question that can come to anybody’s mind. ‘Dulhan ke pita’ of course. Or may be Bharat Shah. Music will be by Nadeem – Shravan (Nadeem operating from London. He is a good friend of D, since the Gulshan Kumar murder) and lyrics would be written by Sameer.

Now as far as casting is concerned, RGV will prefer Saif Ali Khan as hero (the groom, obviously), thanks to his father being a cricketer. This was always a simple choice. But the real question is who would RGV and SB prefer to give role of Dawood, Miandad and Dawood’s daughter (Mahrukh, name rhyming to king Khan). Though cricketers like Sandeep Patil, Sunil Gavaskar, and others have tried their luck in films, it would be too risky to choose them for this big budget film (If marriage costed about Rs. 300 Cr., film should at least cost Rs. 50 Cr.). Sandeep Patil has a good personality, but nowadays he is happy coaching to small teams like Kenya, Bangladesh and Scotland and taking them through to World Cup Semifinals. So, at least I will rule him out. Navjyot Singh Sidhu would make a similar character to Miandad (they share some similarities like both were extremely short tempered and both have seen the stairs of court in a murder case), but he will have to trim his beard and hair for that. “A Sardar is not a Sardar if he does not sport a beard and turban” (and who else will sport Sardar-like turban and beard, Mr. Sidhu?) was what he said at a program in news channel, so even he would be ruled out.

Anyway, there is no need to cast a real cricketer for Miandad since he wont be shown playing with his bat. So now comes the list of prominent Bollywood Actors who can play Miandad and Dawood. First name that comes to mind is Amitabh Bachchan (since we see him in every fifth film and every third advertisement). Other big daddies of Bollywood like Dharmendra, Jeetendra, Rajesh Khanna would make Miandad too filmy (RGV hates the word filmy). So, lets offer the role of Miandad to Bachchan Sr. Looking at his dancing prowess, he will be able to execute the Monkey Dance (Miandad acted in reaction to Kiran More, remember?) perfectly fine. Now the real question. Who will act as D? Randeep Hooda and Vivek Overoi are too young. But how about Sunjay Dutt? At least we can say that there is a common thing between them. Both are Mumbai Bomb blasts accused. Anyway, Sanju baba will have to appear only in Video Conference, so no big deal.

Now the real test. Who will act as bride in the film. It would be easier for producers and directors of the film if they could get hold of Monica Bedi or Mandakini. Looking at the situation right now, I think only Aishwarya Rai can act “naturally” in this role. How? Simple. She knows the Ins and Outs of the underworld (thanks to Banian Khan) and she is a silent spectator to all that happens around her. And she doesn’t have any active participation in the underworld activities. Perfect match for our character isn’t it?

As far as casting of wives of D and Miandad are concerned, let us not debate much and straight away go ahead with Reema Lagoo and Himani Shivpuri. Let SB choose some of the starcast, and not get overshadowed by RGV.

Now a news report says that some Indian cops were also present as spies at the wedding. Wow! The perfect masala required for the movie! A high profile wedding spied by cops! But that makes our job difficult. We have to guess who would play the top Indian cop. Nana ?(He has played cop in 2 RGV films, Bhoot and Ab tak chhappan). No, because Nana would be wasted in a role where he has no dialogues to deliver. Ajay? Maybe. RGV likes him. Salman in a role of a cop named Prem? (under the influence of SB). I don’t think so. He would not even dare to act in any underworld related film after the phone tapping incident. John Abraham would be unrealistic hunk for the job. SRK? Naah… even though he sport a beard along with a clumsy moustache (they say he sported moustache in Paheli to appear manly), he wont fit in a role of a cop who is silent but sharp. Did somebody say Abhishek? Abhishek it is! He has acted in RGV films like Naach, Sarkar and SB film like Main Prem ki deewani hoon. That is what is called unison. Jr. B and Sr. B would be cast alongside each other in yet another film. So, let’s cast Abhishek in that role and let us have few supportive cops like Sushant Singh, Neeraj Vohra (for some comedy) and a hawaldar in Sayaji Shinde. Alok Nath / Shivaji Satam (Depends upon who wins the toss between SB and RGV) may perform the role of Mumbai Police Commissioner who gives orders to Abhishek to probe this wedding (and disappear after that).

Fortunately, no film stars and cricketers were present at the wedding. This makes our and director’s job simple.

Our starcast is done with. Now the story. Story is simple. A big fat ‘Underworld meets Cricket’ wedding at Dubai where there are cops wandering in disguise to hunt bride’s father. What did you say? End of the story? This story has no end. Did D-Company have an end? Or Darna Mana Hai? Even Hum Aapke Hain Kaun had all the twists in the story in last 10 minutes. So we can safely infer that both the directors are not too much concerned about whether there is any logical end to the movie or not. And regarding songs, there is ample scope for that. It’s a wedding! And so what Muslim Weddings don’t have all the Riwaaz / Naach Gaana stuff? There is something called as directors liberty (which is often called as pressure from producer to create hoopla). They can have a song sequence while saying “Kabool” three times. A stanza between each “Kabool”. Three “Kabools” and three stanzas. Three cheers.

Our Big Fat Underworld Wedding is over. The cops return India empty handed, with some clues here and there. RGV decides to make a prequel of this film (Pure love story between Junaid and Mahrukh). D is still at large. Movie makes millions in first two weeks and then it goes off the theatres. The movie makes “more than average” business. Producers, directors, distributors are happy. D is now a household name. Even 4 year boy knows everything about D. But cannot understand why we cannot arrest him.

Uncle

Uncle.


I visit my maushi’s (mother’s sister) place often. There is a lot of empty space in front her house. Small children play there during the evening. Whenever I visit her bunglow, I stand in the balcony watching those young Tendulkars and Brett Lees playing with so much passion. When my mother is busy talking with my maushi about the love affair of my some cousin with a Gujarati girl or how to preserve Methi ki sabji for three days (if I would have liked it, wouldn’t I finish it in a day?), I prefer to stand in the balcony and recollect my childhood days.

The other day I was standing in the balcony and about 10 children were playing cricket. All between ages 7-10. There was some controversy about a runout between them, and I volunteered from the balcony to give the decision. Something happened again. And they again asked me whether it is out or not. I again volunteered and gave the decision. And then one cute boy asked me (by signs) to come to the field and be the field umpire. I was too happy and went ahead. I stood at the non-striker’s end and one smart boy came to me and said,
“Uncle, Uncle you see that fencing over there? It’s the boundary line”
This statement may seem to be very simple, but the first two words struck me like cannonball. I got so irritated that surpassed my previous highest irritation while watching the movie Veer-Zaara. Uncle? Do I look like uncle? I have hardly crossed 23. A ten year old boy is calling me an uncle? I could have accepted any malediction in replacement for that word. But I had no other option. I had to listen to that child. And after that cannonball, I experienced many bullets.
“Uncle, hows that? Out … out .. uncle out … uncle .. uncle please out … uncle… “
I gave him out. I could not tolerate the word uncle any more. I looked towards the bunglow hoping that my mother would come and bail me out from these little devils. But firing continued.
“Uncle, its not six, it’s a four … I saw the ball… uncle its four”.
“Uncle noooo …It’s a six… uncle six ”.
“Uncle, right arm round”. I was thinking of making his right arm round.

If these small Rajwardhan Rathods were not sufficient to fire at me, a cute little Anjali Bhagwat came to me and shot an arrow at me “Kaka kaka, kiti wajle?” (Uncle, what’s the time?). I told her patiently, “Kaka nahi kahi, mala Tushar dada mhan. Tarach kiti wajle te saangin” (Don’t call me uncle, call me elder brother. Only then I will tell you the time).
“Jaoode” (Forget it) and away she went!

I left the battle field totally wounded. Then I got to know, why US could not win wars in Vietnam and Afghanistan”.

I never imagined that this small thing would occupy my mind so much. I went home and realized that I was breathing as fast as a dog after climbing just 30 steps. While surfing through TV channels, I realized that I stopped at News channel more often than MTV or Channel V. The next morning I realized that I have started reading the newspaper from front page (politics, current affairs), rather than last page (sports news). While watching the cricket match, I don’t get that much excited when Pathan takes a wicket compared to what I used to get when Srinath or Kapil used to take wickets. I don’t jump out of the sofa nowadays when India wins the match. I no longer call my friends to sit and watch a football WC match together at my house. Though I meet friends at our katta (place where friends meet), we discuss more about our and someone else’s salaries than tell each other some good joke recently heard. I am gaining weight because I am not getting enough time to play during the day. I prefer treadmill exercise more than actual running. I don’t get very furious at anybody, because I know that it disturbs mental balance. I prefer driving to trekking.

All these thoughts filled my mind. I became very conscious. Why the heck have I changed so much? And that too, in just two years of passing out from college? My parents like my new behavior. They say that I have matured now. I have become sober. I don’t express extreme opinions what I used to present during my college debate contests. Though I am not uncle per se, I have all the qualities of an uncle. I did not play with the children, was just within them. I got the reason why I could not enjoy the game as much as they did.

How much has this change benefited me? Very much, everybody else will definitely say. But I would wish to disagree. I want to shout at the sight of six by Tendulkar and Sehwag. I want to believe that if I sit on this lucky chair, Narain Karthikeyan will earn some points. I want to quarrel with my mother over half cooked vegetables. I don’t want to hum a song in bathroom, I want to sing it loudly. I want to tell a joke rather than send any humorous sms. I want to sing “The Animal Song” of Savage Garden loud and clear. I want to be ME, not dwarfed version of ME.

New Hairstyle

New Hairstyle.


I was very happy that day. For the first time in my entire life I decided to change my hair style. The reason was pretty obvious. I was balding in the front. But not much. (Keeping in mind the audience for this article may contain girls) I had read a humorous article on “My first white hair” when I was 10 years old. I also wanted to write something of that kind. Unfortunately I could not write on the same subject because I already had a lot of gray hair.

This peculiar hair style was carried over since I had hair for the first time. Needless to say that my earlier hair style was entirely my mother’s concept. She was a fan of Dev Anand. My mother has a younger brother, who is 6-7 years younger to her. My grandmother used to work at a distant place during their childhood. Therefore I share the same hair style as my maternal uncle (everybody fondly calls him Chanda Mama). It seems that he had lesser guts than me. He has not changed the hair style for his entire life! So, changing my hair style was going to have same consequences as failing in the exam. It was a mini revolt against my mother’s regime. I gathered the courage of Bhagat Singh (only revolutionary that came to my mind at that moment, courtesy Rajkumar Santoshi. Needless to say history books are now a history for me) and headed towards the saloon.

On the small walk towards the saloon, I was thinking of the consequence (aftermath, actually) of my new hair style. I did not tell anyone that I was going to change the hairstyle. In a conservative family like ours, boys are not supposed to change their hairstyle until they become completely bald. This is very similar to the fact that boys are not supposed to commit suicide until they die of natural death. Girls are allowed when they are about to get married. Here, I am talking of changing the hairstyle, not suicide. I knew mother was going to be furious at me. My younger sister was going to say “It has not made an inch of difference to your personality. You are not going to become John Abraham by doing such silly things”. My father was definitely going to say a blank “Ok”, without even having trouble of getting his head out of newspapers and having a look at me. The real question was what was going to be the reaction of my friends. I knew they were going to notice a change in my personality and would definitely give their opinion. I had a gut feeling that most of them were going to like it. And with these thoughts I entered the saloon.

The saloon is always crowded on Sunday morning. But I have always enjoyed the long wait at saloon. Reason is simple. I have lot of free time to pass and all the film magazines were at my disposal. I have observed that all saloons have film magazines to read and all doctors have India Today. I never dared to ask them why so. In fact asking them such a thing would be of great risk. Because everybody surrenders his head to a barber and surrenders his fate to the doctor. The consequence of asking such a silly question can prove dangerous. Both doctors and barbers charge for taking something “out” of you. So, I read about the Amisha – Kareena clash, Swades – Veer Zaara clash, Mahesh Bhatt – morality clash, the Myth about Mallika and Jackie Chan, another rumour of Aishwarya appearing (I hate the word acting to associate with her) in Hollywood movie, and all other news which are of no use to me. As Calvin says “Weekends don’t count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless.” Having these pious thoughts in my mind, I sat on the hot seat.

My hair line was shifted from the left of my forehead to centre. After changing the hair style, I again started thinking of the impact this would have on my friends. I was so excited about my new hair style that I began to think of witty replies which I would give when someone asks “hey Tushar, change in hair style?” I was into my own world by now and did not even bother to pay my hair stylist. And even he did not ask for it! I walked a few steps when I remembered that I did not pay him. I turned back. He was looking at me. Still he did not ask for money. The look on his face made me skeptical initially, then worried and finally sad. When I gave him the money, the look on his face was shouting “Why are you giving me money? I don’t deserve any money for such a clumsy work”.

I reached home, expecting some sarcastic comments from my sister and mom. Nothing. No reaction from my mom. She did not say anything about it! Even my sister gave a very disinterested look at me and carried on with drying her hair. Suddenly there was a feeling of emptiness in my mind. What the hell has happened to them? Or nothing has happened? My friend came to me that morning. He noticed a change in me (thankfully). But he did not utter any word. Now I had to get this thing out of his mouth. So I asked him “Where do you go to set your hair yaar? This guy charges me Rs. 50 “. Finally he asked me the question which I was waiting eagerly to be asked. “Change in hair style?” I had already thought of an answer to this question, so I replied without wasting any time “Yaar, mom is ill, therefore I myself had to comb the hair today. hahahaa”. This was supposed to be a joke, but unfortunately he was angry with me for being late and was in no mood to listen to any joke. We then went to our katta (a place where many of my friends meet on Sundays). I expected that someone will trigger this question and we will have a full fledged discussion about my new hairstyle. Nobody did. All due to an Arsenal win over ManU.

On Monday too, nobody in my project or my other friends asked me about the new hairstyle. This was a big anti-climax for me, especially when all of us spend the day in chatting. This was burning my head now. Less hair on my head did not help to cool off the anger. This went on for a week. I met hundreds of my colleagues during that week. Not a single person asked me about my new hairstyle.

Finally I decided that something must be done in order to make others aware of my new hairstyle. I tried in many ways. But no success. Finally I sat on my PC, and started typing. I started with the title “New Hairstyle”.

My First Affair with Bangalore...

My first affair with Bangalore …..





Its been more than three months that I am in Bangalore. The reason why I am telling you this is that I want to stress that whatever I have scribbled henceforth is not based on first impression, but huge experience. (I heard 3 months experience in software industries is considered as mammoth). The actual point being that I want to emphasize that I don’t jump to conclusions so early, like Tony Greg and so unlike Jeffrey Boycott. Talking of Jeffery Boycott, my sister says that he suffered throat cancer because he used to criticize every cricketer, which in turn strengthens her belief in God !



Anyways, talking of Bangalore, things anybody would recall most are idlis, dosas, bisibeLabhat, puLiogre, hoLLige (non- kannadigas should not dare to pronounce these) posh shopping malls, bunglows galore everywhere, traffic jams, Kannada language and software companies. (The above list was in the order of things that matter to me most to things that matter to me least)



The first impression of Bangalore was that it is a great city. Though I have come from a city not too different from Bangalore, Pune, I found many things dissimilar. Bangalore is bigger than Pune in every proportion, and the natives are also larger in size. (This size is average physical size, there are only 35-40% Kannadigas in Bangalore) But alas! My first impressions have seldom been correct, may it be city, a girl, a movie, a book, a hook, a crook, a cook or a look. The charm I found in this city was soon lost, similar to the gleam in eyes of a girl when she got to know me and my habits better.



Food has always been my primary necessity for living, besides air and water and so I will start of with food. If it were not food, I would have died. I always had an impression that idli and dosa (i think of them as younger sister and elder brother) constitute for an ideal breakfast. I said “and” and not “or”. I liked bisibeLabhat ( rice and sambar cooked together) a lot, though could not figure out why it tasted so differently at different places. After I leave Bangalore, I would give a million bucks to eat good bisibeLabhat. (the definition of good is up to me though) Water here has some characteristic to pull out hair from your scalp. I previously attributed the baldness of software engineers to the work pressure. But the best thing about Bangalore is air, that is climate. It is fair enough to say that climate here is always suitable to play cricket.



The up-market shopping malls (and those who visit those malls) can easily attract anybody to spend weekend evenings over there. This is the only thing which you can spend in those shopping malls, because if you intend to spend money over there, you got to be brave, rich, foolish or ill-fated. Ill-fated for many reasons, just one of them being having a girlfriend or wife who takes you to these malls for shopping (the real one). Though I am not ill-fated, one other option suits me well. My close ones can guess it easily. I purchased a go-bonkers jeans from that mall and literally went bonkers. It was the first time in my life that I saw a 5-digit price tag on a shirt. I told my friend that I can buy “3-digit” shirts in this amount, in my usual voice, which was heard by everybody in the shop. The shopkeeper didn’t let us to stay there for a minute more.



Being from Pune, I had a typical flat system mentality and only fantasized about living in a bunglow. But when I came here, picture was entirely different. I stay with my friends in a bunglow. Most people own bunglow because flats are costly ! They think of shifting into an apartment once they gather enough money ! I remember the typical sentence I used to hear in Pune “Tumhi kai baba, bangalewale lok ! “ (You are rich, you stay in bunglows , in a damn sarcastic way). I wish to learn Kannada and hear the counterpart of it.



You will find traffic jams everywhere in Bangalore. May it be highway, one-way or subway. There is a flyover in BTM, on which they have written the estimated date and month of completion, but not year. Pretty smart. It can take you anywhere between 25 minutes to 2 hours to reach from BTM to electronic city (distance is close to 9 km.).One more thing, you will find lot of street dogs in Bangalore, but pity, still the Hutch network is bad.



I am a movie buff, so everytime I pass through a movie theatre, I compulsorily look at the hoarding. And voila !!! I got to see here some of the best posters I had ever seen. Being an ardent movie fan, I feel it improper to call those clumsy, weird, cheap. The primary responsibility of poster is that it should tell you at first glance what is at store for you in the movie. From the posters I have seen here, I infer the following (These may be criterions to be followed to get the movie cleared from censor board). 75% area of the poster should be occupied by the face of hero. Hero must be a rebellion therefore must have a fierce look on his face ( I will kill you , you b****** - look), must have a weapon in his hand. This weapon may not be traditional like sword, gun, etc. The popularity of the movie is directly proportional to the innovation of the director in the use of weapon. Axe, bamboo stick ( in all sizes and shapes, just like movie heroines) ,chain (the one I use when I travel by train to lock my luggage) are all things of the past. If these are the weapons of past, then one might ask what are the ones which are currently “in” ? The answer is simple. These weapons do not have any names, in English, Hindi, Marathi or even Kannada. One weapon was a bamboo stick with 4 knives attached at both ends. The side view of this weapon would be similar to capital “I” in English language. The hero must be in some extraordinary pose like stretching arms, kicking, etc. Now combine the above two statements. Hero with a weapon and a pose. See it to believe it ! Hero must possess a moustache. I don’t know exactly, but that might be useful in differentiating hero from heroine. Hero must have a mother. Having father is optional. And now my favourite topic in movies, Heroines. Usually heroines here have a very small place on poster, many times only the face and that too blushing. I don’t know whether it is the public demand or it is because it is difficult to fit the whole picture of heroine. The heroine must have at least one song in traditional dress.



When in Pune, I used to think that the auto rickshaw wallas in Pune are worst of the lot, they are rude and leave no chance of deceiving the passengers. Opinions change. That’s why they are for. I now think that rickshaw-wallas in Pune are those God-send angels on earth to serve the aam-janta in Pune. Once a rickshaw-walla here asked my friend to give him Rs. 13 when the meter showed 12.50. Being asked why, he said “it would have been 13 if you would have gone some distance more”. One and half rate starts at 9.00 PM and ends at 10 PM. After that double meter starts ! This is not official, but this is what these people demand !



I liked Kannada language, its good to listen, but a tongue twister for any North-Indian. Especially I like the way they stretch the last letter of last word of sentence while pronunciation. This liking landed me in trouble. Instead of “Ondu watermelon juice kOdi”, I said “Ondu watermelon juice kUdi”. Some goof up in “kOdi and kUdi” changed the meaning from “Give me one watermelon juice” to “Drink one watermelon juice”. The shopowner at the cash counter made his eyes so big (I remembered Mougli from Jungle Book) in amaze (or was it amusement ) that I wished there were a backspace button somewhere. When I got to know the meaning the next day, I was embarrassed, but then I thought it was better than the shopowner doing according to what I said.



Now you would be thinking that Tushar does not like Bangalore at all and is totally fed up. But, I feel liking cities is similar to liking girls. If there is a girl you are attracted to at first sight you rate her perfect. If you get close to her, your opinions change from very good to good to cool, and finally to OK. Similarly, there is a girl you hate initially, and you get close to her, your opinions change from bad to not so bad to so-so, and finally to OK. Nobody is not-so-great or not-so-worse. Same is the case with cities. No cities are terrible to live or heaven. There are pros and cons in every city, like every one of us. Its upto us how we see it, or what we want to see.