My Meeting with Mr.T

Mr. T is not a most wanted gangster or a high profile businessman as some of you would have thought. Far from it, he is a school going kid. A true millenium kid, to me Mr.T represents the generation of children who are fed on cell phones, computer games and countless other gadgets since birth. And probably because of such an upbringing, I do not see much difference in the levels of our awareness. Hence I prefer to consider him as equal and that is why the 'Mr.' part that I added to the kid's name is important.

This is how the conversation went. The way it went, I had an irresistable temptation to blog about it and by the end of the post I am sure you will know why.

Mr. T : Hey! I am ______

Me : [A little startled by the kid's boldness to initiate the conversation in no time] Hi dude...

Mr. T : Are you on facebook?

Me : [Now definitely shocked] Umm... Yeah! (followed by a 'So?' expression)

Mr. T : Will you add me on facebook?

Me : Umm.. Yeah sure .. Why not!

Mr. T : Whats your name on facebook?

[I tried to ignore that one, to go easy on 'facebook'. I prefer to keep my facebook activities very much restricted to close friends. But... ]

Mr. T : Whats your name on facebook?

Me : Uh? [followed by a 'talking to me?' expression] H-N-S-H-Y-A-M hnshyam

[Following this, I went into my 'I am thinking' facial expression. I do this whenever I want to avoid some conversation. But this time it was more to relieving me from the shock of this conversation I was having with a ten year old kid]

Mr. T : What's the full form of HN?

Me : (This is one question I have learnt to conveniently evade in the last twenty two years, simply because it calls for further explanations. So...) Umm.. Nothing dude.. Its a single thing.

Mr. T : Really? You are joking.... Right?

Me : [smile] (and thankfully, the topic was changed)

Mr. T : You have a computer?

Me : Yeah, of course!

Mr. T : Can I use it?

Me : Sure. Come with me, let's go to my room.

In my room,

Mr. T : Oh, so you have this small laptop?

Me : Yeah, its called a netbook.

Mr. T : Let me add you on facebook. Whats your name you said?

Since my profile was already logged in, I did the honours myself. And he promptly logged into his id and accepted my friend request.

Mr. T : You know my bro has got a new tattoo on his hand! You want to see?

Me : [Startled again] Umm.. Yeah.. Sure.

Mr. T : (While loading his brother's facebook profile) You know, all his friends wanted to get his profile pic clicked with his new girlfriend. But he smartly avoided it.

Me : (Girlfriend!! WTF? Oh Btw his bro has just joined undergraduation) Umm.. Yeah? That was smart of him...

Mr. T : All his friends have girlfriends. You don't have a girlfriend?

Me : (Now this is terribly embarrasing, everytime!) No dude... I don't.

Mr. T : Oh... I see.

Me : [Relieved for not being asked 'Why?', and amazed by Mr.T 's maturity or thoughtfulness you may say!]

Mr. T : BTW you know I joined facebook only last week and I have 114 friends. How many 'likes' do you have?

Me : How many 'what' ?

Mr. T : (pardoning my ignorance) You know, my brother does dissection in his college. The other day they dissected a frog, and all the intestine were out but the heart was still beating!

Me : [Surprised to see this amount of science knowledge in a ten year old] Yeah? I dropped biology way back in class 11 dude. So I never had a chance to do any such thing.

Mr. T : (Hardly interested in my reply. Now showing me some of his brother's pics) You see this boy in this pic?

Me : Yeah.

Mr. T : His mother died. She was only 56, you know?

Me : Oh is it, thats sad... (Not expecting knowledge of any further detail from the kid, and also not feeling it right to quiz him on such a topic. But...)

Mr. T : Apparently she was sleeping in the back seat when the accident occured and the balloon (air bag) came only in the front seats. So when they finally tried to wake his mom up, she did not get up! She had died by that time.

Me : (Now, literally lost for words) Hmmm.... I see.

We moved to the living room, where his mom was talking to my parents.

Mr. T : [Looking at my phone] So you have a blackberry eh?

Me : Yeah.

Mr. T : [Turning to his mom ] Hey mom, the model of your phone is popular. See even he has a similar blackberry.

Me : [Shocked again. The first time I learnt about Blackberry phones was barely a few years ago. Here is a ten year kid discussing Blackberry phones with his mom! ]

Mr. T : You don't have games on you comp? What do you do with it?

Me : [Smiling in an effort to hide my mixed emotions at this strange question] I work Mr.T. So I have something or the other official to do all the time.

Mr. T : [Giving me a 'what a loser' look. Now looking at the golf club in my house] So who goes for golf coaching here?

Me : Golf 'what'?Err... No, no one does. I play around inside the house, sometimes. Haven't gone for any training and all.

Mr. T : Oh... [Browsing through the television channels] Did you watch any tamil movie off late?

Me : Yeah, I watched Enthiran.

Mr. T : Oh.. I watched Manmathan Anbu! Enthiran was long back, right?

Me : Yeah... I guess.

By this time, Mr. T's mother had decided that it was time for them to leave. And in matter of no time, Mr.T got himself ready to leave and he was ready at the door.

Mr. T : Ok dude... Tata! Take Care.

Me : [Now quite use to think of Mr.T as any other friend from college or work] Yep mate! You too...

Mr. T : Hey, is there any sports shop around here?

Me : Yeah, there is one right down this road.

Mr. T : Oh.. k!


I saw Mr.T off from my balcony, as he got into his Manza car with his mother and they drove down the road.

As their car disappeared from my sight, I thought for a second about myself as a ten year old. I still remember the excitement of my visit to a McD (near Andheri station) to have a burger and softy, and getting my first email id '@usa.net' (I don't know how many of you remember it, but it was a craze in those days to have a usa.net email address). Those were probably the biggest things in my life until then, besides a few flight trips and eating American Choupsuey in a chinese restaurant! That was the extent of my exposure.

I looked at the calendar hanging on the wall. It said 'January 2011', and don't know why everything seemed to feel perfectly in place then.

I heard someone tell me, "Its just normal man; 21st century kid afterall! "

I smiled to myself affirmatively and walked into my room.

Dhobi Ghat

Dhobi Ghat is not the typical commercial Bollywood movie, and as a debutant director Kiran Rao deserves special appreciation for boldly taking the risk. And predictably, it is not a movie for all audience. Having said that, I must mention here that the difference has been two things primarily. Expressions and acting on the whole have received centre stage focus in the movie, and the pace of the story is set to make the audience live the characters than just be unperturbed spectators of their lives.

It tells the story of several people, though most of the reviewers would restrict themselves to the four main characters. Dhobi Ghat takes us through the lives of the average housewife who races against time to get her husband and children ready for the day, the maid servant who takes pride in sending her daughter to an English medium school and the daughter who in spite of her discomfort in using the foreign language recites Lord Tennyson's lines for the camera, the local train traveller who is suspicious and scared of a stranger shooting videos of the interiors (I was appalled by the fear born out of insecurity among Mumbaikars after the terrorist attacks), the street-child who is thrilled to be captured in someone's camera, the actually insecure North Indian immigrant recalling the specialities of his native town etc. each finding their own unique life in this city where new dreams are dreamt, some are turned into reality while most break into shatters like a pane of glass. The fundamental theme underlying every character in the movie is that there is a story behind every Mumbaikar, from why they are in Mumbai to what their journey has been. This city of hope that brings people from all over the country has more than just hope for all of them. It leads them into a life intertwined with the pace and culture that is unique to the city.

Another beautiful concept in Dhobi Ghat is how conveniently our mind drifts to lead someone else's life. A desire for something or a ray of hope in a dark life can drag us into leading someone else's life even before we realise it. In the story, the central character is a newly wed housewife from Uttar Pradesh who in the process of undergoing the transformation from a bubbly adolescent to a a devout wife trickles through the emotions of excitement, happiness, peace, pain, despair and helplessness. An artist who seeks inspiration in the story of this woman, and starts defining his existence through the emotions of her life. Her hopes become his inspiration, and her helplessness turn into his! An investment banker on vacation to India from New York who meets this artist, and spends the rest of her days trying to know and understand him. And last but not the least, the local washerman Dhobi who falls for the America returned banker and sees the gateway to his future through the lens of her camera.

By pacing the story such that even every facial expression is registered in the minds of the viewer, director Kiran Rao has brought back the beauty in acting that was prevalent during early years of cinemas and plays. Minimal dialogues and maximum communication has been the speciality of the movie, and the spectacular acting displayed by the central characters make the experience even more touching.

All in all, Dhobi ghat is a welcome change amid Bollywood movies that indulge in cut throat competition with each other for commercial success. It conveys the spirit of Mumbai through the lives of four central characters, each in the pursuit of a different thing. A must watch for everyone who loves the art of acting and movie making, and definitely not one for the lover of mirch-masala in Bollywood movies.

Cheers!

Orphaned Heroes

I remember the day very clearly. It was late evening on a summer day in Mumbai, and all the people in my house (and a few from the neighbourhood) were glued in front of the television. No, it was not the latest Bollywood flick or an Amitabh starrer from the olden days that was being played on TV. Instead it was an episode of HardTalk India and Karan Thapar was griling the guest, as he always does. But in the course of talks, the guest could not control their tears and starts crying like a baby on the national channel in front of millions of viewers! This very shot that was used to publicise the particular episode of Hardtalk India, had paid off and countless number of people had huddled in front of television sets across the nation from homes to showrooms to watch this interview! And the guest was not a weak hearted survivor narrating their war ordeals or a tortured wife counting her days of agony; instead it was one of India's greatest heroes who had brought uncomparable glory to the nation in an international stage. Yes, it was Kapil Dev- the only Indian cricket captain to have won us a World Cup!

Kapil Dev was bitterly wounded by the match fixing allegations raised against him that questioned his integrity, and was on national television sobbing uncontrollably. He said, " I will commit suicide rather than take a bribe.... I feel ashamed that I played cricket. "

Ten years later, another national cricket hero, the person credited to rebuilding the Indian cricket team from being just another scam-stricken, low-morale team drowned in controversies into a team of highly talented youngsters with the killing spirit to take on even the world's best team- Australia at the highest point of their success (16 consecutive test victories) and leading India to the finals of Worldcup (the only one after Kapil Dev's 1983 team) - lay at the mercy of some money driven filmstars and businessmen to play in a tournament organised in India!

And what happens? He is not picked by any of the ten different team owners, and pushed to the shame of being overlooked in favour of more than hundred other players! And to top it with a layer of sadism, the co-owner of his home team KKR Shahrukh Khan quips "No team is possible in Kolkata without Ganguly... I would love to have him as an integral part of the team".

Under such circumstances we are forced to question whether we actually know how to show true respect to our heroes? Be it war heroes, sportspersons, filmstars or for that matter anyone who strives to gain our country global recognition and honour.

Will we do the same to someone like Sachin Tendulkar who has spent even the best part of his teenage for Indian cricket, ten years from now? 'Adarsh Society' scam is a recent example of how we do not respect the sacrifices by our war heroes in the Kargil war, instead try to hijack the bare little assistance that their family members receive from the government! Many of the best faces on and off screen who have been responsible for growing Bollywood to the cash-cow that it is today, die under conditions of extreme poverty, loneliness and enormous debt. One of Bollywood's all time favourite heroine and the first Indian actress to feature on the cover of Time magazine, Parvin Babi lay dead in her house for three days and later in the mortuary awaiting claimants for the dead body! These are the plights of people revered to be heroes and celebrities at some point of time in their life.

While we know to easily churn out heroes amidst us from the autorickshaw wallahs on the street to the fellow passenger in local train to the participant in a television reality show; we barely know to respect and reciprocate the efforts of the real heroes who work hard forsaking everything dear to them, for bringing pride and prestige to fellow countrymen by achieving the impossible on a global stage and making India rise above the rest of the world.

Kapil Dev and Ganguly are not individual cases of 'orphaned heroes'. In fact they are probably the more visible ones. Several ex-servicemen and families of war martyrs, former sportspersons, entrepreneurs, scientists and artists and many more will be out there to tell us how this country and the selfish countrymen turned their backs at them when they most needed their support, and in some cases humiliated them in public for unproven offences.

The respect that they bring to the nation must be reciprocated to them, and this must be done at any cost. It is because of the contribution of these achievers- the real heroes- that today India can claim to be a growing superpower and a major challenge to the biggest of world nations!