Charandas Chor

It was during the Spic Macay season at IIT-Delhi. I had pretty much waited my whole life to have access to such music/dance/drama etc. I had never really seen a professional performance. Linus, the Spic veteran had told me of MS Subbalakshmi and her need to drink a glass of warm milk before a concert, and some others who needed to drink some other things. We heard Bismillah Khan play in our hostel garden, saw Sonal Mansingh tell the poor MC off, because he mispronounced her name. (She also did a scary "Aaj Ki Naari" thing that I didn't laugh at because I was afraid of the possible punishment).
I thought I had soaked up enough culture when Linus dragged me to a play, he said something about Habib Tanvir. I could not sound un-arty with him so I decided to tag along (I remember everyone else being busy). Seminar Hall was packed, I was relieved...it meant we could leave. But I was bullied into sitting in on the floor which could seat only one half...of the big future behind me. But the next one hour was one of the best times of my life.
Charandas Chor is one of those fantastic folk plays from Central India, with a lovely Hindi dialect , outstanding performances and lots of characters. It was funny, simple and had a moral. The cast were entirely non actors, mostly locals from Chattisgarh and Madhya Pradesh. I was so mesmerised by what I saw that I am sure I can recognise the actor who played Charandas. I knew that this is one point in time that I will remember happily forever.
The applause for each actor at the end was brilliant, the hall was vibrating and when a frail old man walked on stage it was deafening. You knew he was a leader, without even hearing him.
Habib Tanvir was one India's greatest playwrights. He was not afraid to have an opinion. His work was known for its political & social conscience, he recently recieved an award from NDTV, his speech was, "I think electronic media is destroying language. Actors don't know how to speak anymore".
I would always tell my friends that if ever they get a chance to watch the play, nothing should stop them. I don't know if you can anymore. Habib Tanvir passed away today.

The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay

Author: Siddarth Dhanvant Sanghvi
Publisher: Penguin Viking
Zone : Trying too hard

This book was clearly was written to sell, beginning with the provocative cover with Meghna Reddy.

The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay puts together some big scandals(Jessica Lal, Salman Khan running over people etc.,), of the last 2 decades and makes one story of them.There is no hiding the fact that there is no orginality. Only the names are changed to weave the story around the characters. That makes it nothing more than a clever MBA project.

You have to be patient with this book. It suffers from some of the many problems of books written nowadays- over setting the context, too many issues, inconsistent characterisation, really bad one liners - "Character building is too much work","Mumbai is about as appealing a name for a city as Gonorrhoea."

Inspite of the above the book really grabs your interest with its sensitivity and pace.The places where it works are when the reader is allowed to to use her own brains. The characters belong to a class of people that I have never met, but seem strangely familiar. The good ones are - Rhea who is married to her childhood sweetheart who she loves but is tired of it all, Samar the brilliant pianist who gives up his career but we never know why.

Not bad.

So old..So Senti..So me

This was a mail to Linus on my last day in SBI:

Sentimental
It is what you have always called me so I dedicate what I’m writing to you.

Today March 24th 2007, Saturday was my last day at State Bank of India. I said goodbye to the LHO and I felt numb. There was a typical SBI gesture of a relieving gathering, one which I begged that they wouldn’t because of how embarrassing it could be, where all concerned would look at me with adoring eyes and bid me a gentle and loving goodbye. I know that it was me who wanted out but that didn’t stop me from feeling a little sorry.

June 24th 2006 was my first day at LHO in Hyderabad and strangely also a Saturday. I sat sitting in front of the computer twiddling my thumbs hoping for something to happen. I sat twiddling my thumbs today waiting for my DGM to come.

The first day the first thing I did was go to the Main branch to open my SB account. There was a lean 6 feet 2 inches tall man called Chowdary who opened my account that day. The last thing I did today was close my account at the main branch; ironically it was Chowdary who did it for me.

Today when the lady at the counter said there were too many customers and she wouldn’t close the account a special person helped me. It was a deaf mute messenger who stood there stubbornly till my work was done. He was someone who I saw on and off in the lift and all we did was salute each other in Hyderabadi style.

There I met 2 lady AGMs who I interacted with frequently. Both of them patted me on the cheek. My DGM said “I will miss you on a personal level”. My boss who I am most intimidated by said “No matter what I will still call you when I want to “.

At the gathering I was touched, but I’m too cynical and strangely very hurt by totally unconnected events and unrelated people, to ever believe anything kind that anyone has to say about me.

To all the really nice people of SBI and all the customers I have ever met and to every little thing I have learnt about myself these last ten months….Thank you SBI…and off to another factory.