Shobhaa De http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De.rss en Tue Aug 06 15:22:26 IST 2019 https://www.theweek.in/privacy-an-settlement.html the-ever-combative-kapur <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/30/the-ever-combative-kapur.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/7/30/shekhar-kapur-new.jpg" /> <p>An Oscar is the kiss of death in Bollywood,” tweeted the award-winning actor-producer-director Shekhar Kapur to one of the most talented musicians alive, A.R. Rahman, who responded somewhat laconically. This exchange highlighted the increasing polarisation in Bollywood, as actor Sushant Singh Rajput’s tragic death continues to raise important issues of nasty behaviour and blatant discrimination in India’s billion-dollar film industry.&nbsp;</p> <p>Kapur comes with impeccable credentials as a filmmaker—he has deftly directed great actors, from Cate Blanchett (<i>Elizabeth</i>, 1998) and Heath Ledger (<i>The Four Feathers</i>,&nbsp;2002), to Seema Biswas (<i>Bandit Queen</i>,&nbsp;1994) and Sridevi (<i>Mr India</i>, 1987). He was keen on directing Rajput in the much-delayed&nbsp;Paani. The two had reportedly spent four months discussing and prepping for the project that did not get off the ground. He has gone on record to claim he knew people who had “wronged” the 34-year-old actor: “What happened to you was their karma. Not yours,” read his cryptic tweet, after the tragedy.</p> <p>&nbsp;Regardless of how this saga pans out, it is great to know that the 74-year-old Kapur continues to be combative—as he can well afford to be. With a net worth estimated at $25 million, he is in an enviable position to say and do as he please. He is also one of the few people in Bollywood to take a stand when required, as he famously did when a “trilogy” of his superhit directorial venture,&nbsp;<i>Mr India</i>,&nbsp;was grandly announced without informing him. He asked an important and very valid question: “Where is the director’s ownership on material he has created?” This did not go down well with the community, with people like Javed Akhtar questioning his stand.&nbsp;</p> <p>Given Kapur’s education and background (CA from London), he is entirely at home in an international arena, unlike some of his Bollywood counterparts. Yes, he is fastidious and picky when it comes to projects—because he can afford to be just that. Why compromise with one’s vision, particularly if the same vision has paid rich dividends in the past?</p> <p>The last time I met Kapur was a few months ago at a mutual friend’s dinner. As always, I found the genial Kapur at his relaxed best, happy to talk shop. But equally happy not to. Among other invitees, there was author Amitav Ghosh with his wife, since the dinner was in his honour after a book launch. It was a small group with most guests having long associations. The exquisite Hyderabadi banquet was the uncontested star of the night, as the host and hostess (filmmaker Zafar Hai and his lovely wife Colleen) graciously looked after guests. Kapur, who was born in Lahore, was in full flow, but quietly so—there was zero attempt to hog the spotlight or dominate the discourse. He and I were meeting after a gap of several years, but it hardly mattered. The connect was immediate and cordial. It was yet another marvellous soiree that underlined a dying Mumbai tradition, and reminded all of us of an earlier era where evenings such as this one were enjoyed by like-minded people, learning from one another and celebrating each other’s success in an open, generous way.</p> <p>One hears Kapur will be giving his statement in writing to the Mumbai police regarding his association with Rajput. So far, more than 40 individuals have been summoned by the cops. I am not sure for what exactly! Are the police as starstruck as the rest of the country? Or, do they want to demonstrate their efficiency in “cracking” this tricky case by getting statements from stars like Kangana Ranaut? Let us see what is unearthed. But our man Kapur has declared he will dedicate&nbsp;<i>Paani</i>&nbsp;to the memory of the actor who did not live long enough to star in what promises to be Kapur’s magnum opus.</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/30/the-ever-combative-kapur.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/30/the-ever-combative-kapur.html Thu Jul 30 15:40:30 IST 2020 the-sweetest-bachchan <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/16/the-sweetest-bachchan.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/7/16/abhishek-bachchan-new.jpg" /> <p>Bachchan Sr and Bachchan Jr checked into a suburban super-speciality hospital a few days ago after testing positive for Covid-19. As of now, father and son are in isolation wards, while the rest of the Bachchan <i>parivaar</i> is in self-isolation at their four luxurious bungalows in Juhu, a mere five minutes from the hospital. The family is being lauded for ‘destigmatising’ Covid-19, which is a pretty big thing, given the public’s phobia surrounding the deadly virus.</p> <p>Both the Bachchan men had gone back to work a few weeks prior to the hospitalisation, and urgent contact tracing is on. One school of thought believes that it is important for actors to support the film industry by showing confidence in the changed world of movie-making. Too true. It sends out a powerful signal to the industry, which is still figuring out a way to deal with the ‘new normal’.</p> <p>But this column is about the sweetest Bachchan—Abhishek. I have known him since he was a teenager. Having Amitabh and Jaya as parents was both a huge plus for him as an actor and a cross he had to bear. His father was not just numero uno, he was already a larger-than-life legend. His mother, Jaya, is an accomplished star in her own right. When Abhishek decided to get married, it was to actor Aishwarya Rai, often referred to as the ‘most beautiful woman in the world’. Where was Abhishek in such a crowded celebrity field? I like to believe he was where he has always been—in a confident and loving zone of his own creation. He is one of the most well-mannered young men in showbiz, which says a lot about his upbringing. And what he projects, at least publicly, is a picture of an even-tempered, good-natured young man, who is not trying to prove anything to anybody. That is tough, given his circumstances and the non-stop comparisons with his father.</p> <p>I have observed him closely during family functions at the Bachchan home and been struck by his unaffected and non-starry conduct with every single person around him. He comes across as a caring husband, doting father and a loving son. These are the qualities that have shielded him emotionally from the barrage of critical comments, mocking his ‘failure’. What failure? Abhishek is an award-winning, bona fide talent—watch him in <i>Yuva</i> and <i>Guru</i>. He has a terrific flair for comedy (<i>Dostana</i>), and even in person, it is his gentle sense of humour that stands out. Compared to his egotistical and narcissistic contemporaries, Abhishek is a study in contrast. I have seen him at social events, when he walks in with his beautiful wife and graciously steps aside to allow photographers to shoot her solo pictures. Such an endearing absence of ego makes him a very special person. I have also seen him at gatherings where some of his more successful colleagues are mobbed and the crowd chases them, while he waits with a patient smile to move forward.</p> <p>Today, the 44-year-old can be thought of as a middle-aged actor, even if actors in their mid-fifties are still chasing heroines half their age and playing romantic leads. There is a certain dignity about Abhishek that is absent in those others. I see them strutting around at events, surrounded by lackeys and bodyguards, and laugh at their self-importance. I see their carefully structured airport pictures and wonder who advises them. Abhishek demonstrates one admirable trait that is generally missing in the movie business—modesty. This makes him a far more attractive hero than those beefed up, haggard fellows hanging on desperately to their thrones.</p> <p>Do watch Abhishek as he gamely goes along with his high-profile family members, emanating grace and goodness. Amitabh and Jaya have many glorious triumphs, awards and trophies to look back on, but the most precious gift is their son, Abhishek. As for Aishwarya, marrying Abhishek may just be the best decision she ever made!</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/16/the-sweetest-bachchan.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/16/the-sweetest-bachchan.html Thu Jul 16 15:38:00 IST 2020 bobde-and-the-bike <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/02/bobde-and-the-bike.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/7/2/Bobde-bike-new.jpg" /> <p>The Beatles wrote the evocative anthem, <i>When I’m 64</i>, in 1967. It opens with the lines, “When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now…” and innocently asks, “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64…”</p> <p>The Chief Justice of India, Sharad Arvind Bobde, who assumed office on November 18, 2019, is 64, and from the snazzy pictures of him riding a limited edition Harley Davidson CVO 2020 recently (albeit, minus mask), it would appear he is still a rockstar with a headful of hair. Take that, Paul McCartney and John Lennon! A man of 64 in today’s day and age is certainly a far cry from the version depicted by the British popstars. And going by Bobde’s varied interests, which range from vintage automobiles, to mean machines like the bike he was ‘caught’ on this week, it is obvious our chief justice is quite a dude we like!&nbsp;</p> <p>There are several versions of what exactly the Easy Rider was doing on a bike that sells at approximately Rs 51 lakh. One version says he was not exactly riding it, but was astride the beauty. Another hastily clarifies that the bike does not belong to the CJI in the first place and the real owner is the son of a BJP bloke in Nagpur. Another post blames the dealer of the bike, claiming he milked an innocuous enquiry from the CJI to gain mileage from the publicity garnered. While yet another post talks about the bike being a part of the CJI’s post-retirement plan. Whatever! Can’t a guy go for a roaring spin on something as sexy without so many questions being raised? Our CJI sounds like a really cool person, being an environmentalist, music lover, keen photographer…. What more do you want?&nbsp;</p> <p>His track record as a judge is as interesting as he is. So is his lineage. His great grandfather was a noted lawyer, and his father, a respected advocate general of India. As the 47<sup>th</sup>&nbsp;and current CJI, who is due to retire in April 2021, Bobde has been in the news for delivering several important (and controversial) judgments in recent times.&nbsp;</p> <p>It is pretty refreshing when men and women in such hallowed positions allow their more informal sides to be viewed in the public domain. Our Nagpur-born CJI is one such individual and I do hope all this publicity does not inhibit him from sharing his Hell's Angels persona with the public.</p> <p>For too long, we have slotted our judges into pre-determined compartments and not allowed them to breathe and just be! The image of the chief justice of India racing down a highway on a sleek bike is pretty modern and attractive. It breaks the mould and instantly strikes a rapport with the young of the country.</p> <p>I would love to see many more judges and other eminent personalities pursuing their passions without feeling coy. My only grouse in this case? Someone attempting to ‘justify’ the photograph suggested the CJI did not actually take that gorgeous monster for a ride, he merely climbed on! That is a little like that unforgettable Bill Clinton admission more than 25 years ago when the former president of the US sweetly assured his loyal countrymen that he “didn’t inhale…” marijuana smoke! Come on, guys. We are all adults with our own favourite leisure activities, okay? If bikes are the CJI’s big thing, so be it! How amazing!</p> <p>Roarrrrrr away, dear sir. We are keeping an eye on you… and the speed limit. Next time you decide to go for a <i>chakker</i>, do take our <i>vahini</i>, your wife Kamini (plus two masks), with you. Easy Rider… have a great time!&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/02/bobde-and-the-bike.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/07/02/bobde-and-the-bike.html Thu Jul 02 17:51:52 IST 2020 the-boy-from-bihar <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/06/18/the-boy-from-bihar.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/6/18/70-sushant-singh-new.jpg" /> <p>When people say Bollywood is a cruel place, I reply, “Yes, it is! The beast we call ‘Showbiz’, spares no one”. This hungry beast took one more victim last week, when 34-year-old Sushant Singh Rajput took his own life in Mumbai. I had once met him briefly at an awards function a few years ago. He was there as the boyfriend of one of the ladies, who was being felicitated as a ‘Woman Achiever’. He arrived late, kept his head down throughout, and left early. I remember thinking to myself that this young man lacked hustling skills and was not at all socially adept. Or else, he would have worked the room full of influential producers and directors, and sweet-talked a few. But this young man was made of some other stuff. He had a sense of self and a sense of pride—the very attributes that may have contributed to the tragedy that left the nation shocked.</p> <p>Forget <i>Gangs of Wasseypur</i> and think ‘Gangs of Bollywood’. The deeply incestuous world of movie-making in Mumbai works in such insidious ways that young actors hoping to make it big on the basis of their talent alone are given a harsh reality check by the Big Boys, who run the show on their own terms. Unless these ‘outsiders’ agree to play ball and kowtow to their rules. Sushant may have been a bit too intense, too cerebral and too sensitive for this lot. His amazing trajectory in films speaks for itself. The directors who worked with him have mentioned the rigour he invested in each role during his seven short but impactful years in Bollywood. I have watched five of his 10 films, so I can say this confidently: as a nuanced and polished actor, Sushant was streets ahead of most of the current lot of propped up ‘stars’ favoured by the Big Boys. I watched <i>M.S. Dhoni: The Untold Story</i> twice within the span of a week, just to catch what I may have missed the first time. And to think that Sushant spent months training with Kiran More to perfect Dhoni’s famous ‘helicopter shot’ and get the cricket captain’s body language right. That is called admirable dedication to ones craft.</p> <p>Yes, all this was noted by Sushant’s growing legion of fans. It was also noted by the Big Boys who had shoved him out of major productions earlier. Undeterred, Sushant gave two hit movies made on comparatively smaller budgets (<i>Kedarnath</i> and <i>Chhichhore</i>), even as his personal life may have been coming apart. There was a great deal of chatter around the social ostracism he was being subjected to by this same lobby. It was said that he was not invited to major Bollywood parties and was snubbed by prominent filmmakers.</p> <p>The Boy from Bihar preferred to gaze at real stars through his prized possession—a Meade LX600 telescope with a spectrometer that ‘gave a feel of a time machine’. The Boy from Bihar, who wanted to be an astronaut, had won the National Olympiad in Physics, and remained an astronomy buff till the end. One can safely say, Sushant was not the average Bollywood actor, even though he did have that six-pack and could out-dance any of his contemporaries.</p> <p>Something slipped somewhere. And even though he was under treatment for clinical depression for the past few months, when the end came, his emotional reserve was not sufficient to save him. The issue of mental health is the elephant in the room which very few people are ready to confront. The lockdown has taken its toll on countless individuals. Going forward, the feeling of being trapped, alone and without support will claim more victims. Let Sushant Singh Rajput’s untimely death serve as a wake up call to all of us struggling with mental demons, big and small. It takes nothing to reach out and respond to a cry for help—you could save someone’s life.</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/06/18/the-boy-from-bihar.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/06/18/the-boy-from-bihar.html Mon Jun 22 08:33:51 IST 2020 superstar-of-the-season <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/06/04/superstar-of-the-season.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/6/4/49-sonu.jpg" /> <p>Sweet irony. Till about a month ago, Sonu Sood was one more Bollywood hunk—all muscles and decent acting chops—that’s it. Today, he is a folk hero, after he nimbly jumped into the pandemic panic, and emerged as a Covid-superstar. His first act of kindness was to arrange 60 buses at his own expense, to send back 350 migrants to their home state, Karnataka. Apart from transport, he ensured they had sufficient food and water for the journey.</p> <p>He was present to see them off, and of course, the press was briefed.&nbsp;In an interview after his good deed was acknowledged and publicised across social media platforms, Sood spoke with sincerity and sobriety, saying he did it as he was moved by the plight of migrants. Suddenly, Sood’s popularity zoomed into stratosphere and at one point, he even managed to beat the unbeatable Salman Khan in the social media stakes! He followed up the bus initiative by another dazzling act—he chartered an aircraft to ferry 150 migrant ladies from Kerala to Bhubaneshwar.</p> <p>Soon, he had transformed himself from a dimpled six-footer, playing a baddie in Bollywood films, to Saviour Sood. His do-gooder fame had spread so rapidly that all sorts of helpless victims of the pandemic started to contact him directly over Twitter. Like the abandoned old mother at Mumbai’s Bandra station whose son had thrown her out of the house. And another set of 1,000 migrants who were later transported from Uttar Pradesh to Bihar.</p> <p>Sood’s story reads better than some of the movie scripts he has picked. He came to Mumbai with 05,500 in his pocket and shared a poky little flat with six other hopefuls looking for breaks; today the 47-year-old is a wealthy businessman, actor and producer. To that, one can safely add “philanthropist” after his Santa Claus act. He is the proud owner of high-end cars like the Porsche Panamera, the Mercedes-Benz M-Class and the Audi Q7. He owns several properties, including a lavish one in Mumbai, which was in the news for some transgressions. That news has been buried for now. And, Sonu frequently pitches in to create&nbsp;public awareness for several campaigns launched by the Mumbai Police and other government bodies.</p> <p>Sood has acted in several multilingual films, starting his career in 1999 with a Tamil film titled, Kallazhagar. He also appeared in a Chinese film and claims friendship with the likes of Jackie Chan. Given that he had come to Mumbai to take his chances in the competitive world of modelling, Sonu made it to the top rung of the Grasim Mr. India contest before getting his movie break.</p> <p>Today, he has catapulted himself into another league. It is a coveted upgrade. In fact, those who have worked with the actor say, somewhat cynically, that the Covid-19 humanitarian work has been his best investment to date. Overnight, Sonu Sood is the go-to guy for distressed folks in India.</p> <p>Industry watchers also say Sonu will no longer accept supporting roles—remember, his early break in Bollywood came with him playing Abhishek Bachchan’s brother in <i>Yuva</i>. A producer commented cynically that henceforth Sonu will demand treble his fees and dictate the kind of role he feels he is worthy of, given his enhanced status. Sonu had already displayed an “attitude issue” when he walked out of Kangana Ranaut’s&nbsp;<i>Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi</i>. He was pretty outspoken at the time and his views were seen as “sexist” by critics!</p> <p>Oh well, today’s version is a “new, improved” Sonu Sood. No doubt, he will be richly rewarded by the authorities. Do watch out for his name when the next Padmas are announced. Who knows, maybe he will join politics next and emerge as a people’s hero. Anything, is possible in showbiz and politics!</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/06/04/superstar-of-the-season.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/06/04/superstar-of-the-season.html Thu Jun 04 16:41:23 IST 2020 heroes-stand-alone <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/05/22/heroes-stand-alone.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/5/22/46-Bajaj-new.jpg" /> <p>Unquestionably, the biggest corporate hero in India right now is the 53-year-old managing director of the Bajaj Group. His unfiltered, bold and scathing critique of the Rs20 lakh crore “stimulus package”—grandly announced by the prime minister—and further spelt out by his loyal finance minister, had citizens wondering what the hell was going on, given the enormity of the economic crisis, combined with the tragedy of the migrants-on-the-move issue.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It took a straight-talking captain of industry, Rajiv Bajaj, to call their bluff, when he described the package as “unsustainable, piecemeal and erratic”. He spoke up strongly against the “arbitrary lockdown” and mentioned a “governance problem”. As if that was insufficient, he also described the strict lockdown as a “draconian move” and accused the government of “preposterous” handling of the crisis, saying what was started by the coronavirus was spread by the authorities. He urged corporate India to speak up, while assuring his employees there would be no job cuts. By making his position abundantly clear and not mincing words, Rajiv Bajaj not just lived up to the outspoken legacy of his father, the legendary Rahul Bajaj, but also took it a few notches higher.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The almost near subjugation of corporate India is really a matter of disappointment to citizens. Goldman Sachs says India will experience its worst recession ever with a 45 per cent second quarter slump. Despite such dire warnings, business leaders have refused to castigate the government or suggest swifter ways to bounce back. Rajiv Bajaj warned unequivocally: “Do not hold a sword over people’s heads.” Why should Bajaj Jr be the lone ranger in the dense corporate jungle? Why are the other big boys on the block silent?</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>One of my earliest memories of Rajiv go back to a holiday years ago. Both our families were staying at the same resort. Rajiv was clearly a fitness and yoga buff; I watched in awe as he effortlessly stood on his head, and performed various complicated asanas. He talked amiably to everyone, as did his wife Deepa. His son Rishabh was a toddler at the time. I was most impressed by Rajiv’s personality, and his lack of pretence. He behaved like any regular guy taking a break with the missus and kid, unlike some of his contemporaries (including a few members of the Bajaj clan), who often strut around throwing airs, with an entourage in tow.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Hmm, I remember thinking, how refreshing this chap was. The same chap who took over the reins at Bajaj Auto in 2005, turned the company’s fortunes around, by introducing the wildly popular and commercially successful Pulsar brand. Rajiv leads a team of 45,000, and lives a quiet family life, away from the glare of celebrityhood.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Recently, he has become a staunch advocate of a homeopathic immunity booster called Camphora 1M, which he believes can help combat the deadly virus. Such is Rajiv’s credibility and stock right now that my daughter promptly ordered Camphora 1M for our entire family.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>This is the thing about heroes, particularly those who shine during a crisis—people start looking up to them since the scenario on most other fronts is so discouraging. By raising important and relevant issues, by asking for clarity, Rajiv Bajaj has displayed the sort of leadership qualities that are disappointingly absent in others. He has urged the prime minister to “give direct money into the hands of people”. He has been pushing for opening up factories and getting back to work without further delay. “Start an ‘inspector raj’,” he says, assuring authorities that his factories will comply with whatever rules come into play. Respect!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/05/22/heroes-stand-alone.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/05/22/heroes-stand-alone.html Fri May 22 17:00:30 IST 2020 powering-the-vaccine-hunt <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/05/08/powering-the-vaccine-hunt.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/5/8/50-Adar-Poonawalla-and-Natasha-new.jpg" /> <p>I met Daddy Poonawalla—Dr Cyrus Poonawalla—the billionaire chairman of the Serum Institute of India, around 20 years ago and found him charmingly eccentric, with a razor sharp mind and a nonchalance that is most disarming. His sense of humour fell into the ‘Bawaji brand’, typical of the loveable Parsis. Over time, we met here and there, mainly at Vijay Mallya’s lavish parties and occasionally at events in Pune. At the time, his handsome son Adar was a student in England. Today, the world’s eyes are focused on the 39-year-old scion, who is promising a Covid-19 vaccine by September. Adar is realistic enough to state candidly that he and his team of researchers are 75 per cent, and not 100 per cent certain of success. Adar has also stated that he will be putting many, highly profitable products on hold while concentrating on this one mission that can save millions of lives. Here is wishing them all the luck in the world.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Adar and his wife Natasha (executive director at the Serum Institute, besides being acknowledged as an international fashion icon), are friends of my children, so I have interacted with both of them from the time they got married in 2006; they first met at Mallya’s extravagant New Year’s Eve party in Goa. I have watched them evolve over time, and marvelled at the ease with which they have made their transition from a wealthy and glamorous ‘Pune Couple’ to globally recognised philanthropists and patrons of the arts. Clearly, it was the more outgoing Natasha, dressed in dazzling haute couture and perfectly groomed at all times, who grabbed eyeballs. Soon, the beautiful lady had wooed and been wooed by Bollywood stars who could not get enough of the Poonawalla hospitality and style. Their parties thrown for visiting celebrities like Sharon Stone attracted people from across the country.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>When Prince Charles and Camilla visited India in 2013, Pune featured prominently on their travel itinerary, where they were hosted by the Poonawallas. I was delighted to attend a high tea for the Duchess of Cornwall, beautifully put together by Natasha for a few ladies. The prince, meanwhile, visited the Serum Institute’s head office, and later attended the races with his wife. The royal visit, though short, offered an insight into how Adar and Natasha had evolved into India’s number one power couple. I watched Natasha with her guests at the high tea, where she played the impeccable and gracious hostess. The tea was laid out in the patio of their sprawling bungalow, and guests were courteously briefed about adhering to royal protocol. I did notice a few socialites attempting a clumsy curtsey on being introduced to Camilla when a simple namaste would have done.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>A few days ago, I watched the couple take questions from filmmaker Karan Johar during the ‘I For India’ charity concert on Facebook, which raised over 03.5 crore for Give India. Natasha looked like an international movie star, with not a hair out of place despite the lockdown, while Adar was Adar, dressed in a conservative business suit, as he provided a measured response to questions about the much-awaited vaccine.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>While the over-wrought world holds its breath in anticipation, one can be pretty sure this dynamic couple will be going flat out to contribute generously and work tirelessly till a viable solution is found. Once we stagger back to a semblance of normalcy, it will be great to follow the Poonawalla adventures on Instagram, a platform on which Natasha is wildly popular (more than 495K followers) and very active. We look forward to ogling at pictures of the family—Adar, Natasha and their sons Cyrus and Darius, as they jet from one amazing destination to the next, living the dream! Stay buoyant!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/05/08/powering-the-vaccine-hunt.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/05/08/powering-the-vaccine-hunt.html Fri May 08 17:55:31 IST 2020 bring-it-on-taimur <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/04/23/bring-it-on-taimur.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/4/23/62-taimur.jpg" /> <p>Never did I imagine that one day I would be devoting a column to a cute kid! But then again, never did I imagine the world would be hit by a deadly virus! So, here I am, putting my thoughts on paper and investing time deconstructing a phenomenon known as Taimur—Taimur the toddler.</p> <p>Meet the wunderkind who breaks the internet each time he appears in public view. Well, one thought the gorgeous little chap would be spared the intense and intrusive fan gaze at least during a lockdown. After all, the paparazzi parked outside his Bandra home (24x7—no kidding! They work in shifts) cannot stalk the little chap during a quarantine. But guess what? Taimur’s amazing parents have recognised their son’s brand worth and the immense joy he spreads across the world, with just a wave or smile. And they have smartly turned into paparazzi themselves!</p> <p>Kareena’s posts keep Taimur’s vast following on social media platforms begging for more. The last picture that captured millions of Likes and hearts, showed Taimur playing Picasso and energetically splashing paint on a wall, while his famous father channelled his inner Monet and stuck to flowers (not water lilies, mercifully). Another Instagram post had Taimur taking gardening lessons from his dad.The Taimur effect is worth dissecting. Taimur is not the only cutie in Bollywood. There are other, equally cute, star bachchas—his own cousin Inaaya Naumi Kemmu for one, or Shahid and Mira Kapur’s two. But it is Taimur who rules. Is it the blue-green eyes? The pink pout? The tousled hair with golden streaks? Who knows!</p> <p>Going by these physical attributes, Karan Johar’s twins, too, qualify. And KJo is no slacker when it comes to “positioning” family and friends. His videos of the twins dissing their famous dad also grab big numbers. But the hysteria is nowhere close to the kind Taimur unleashes. It has to do with charisma.</p> <p>Clearly Taimur was born with it. I can vouch for this! I had gone over to Kareena and Saif’s home to finalise a book project. Taimur was a few weeks old at the time. His name was already known across the country, due to a silly controversy that questioned its appropriateness, given the controversial historical significance of the 14th century Turkish-Mongol ruler Taimur. The name stayed. The parents refused to budge. Soon, the boy became the most famous Taimur in contemporary history.I did not want to be too pushy to see the infant. But how could I leave without a sighting? I asked Kareena if that was possible, assuring her it was fine if the baby was not allowed visitors. Kareena charmingly obliged, and we went to the nursery only to find Taimur blissfully sleeping in his nanny’s arms. I could only spot blond hair and pink cheeks—and that was that. I left a small gift for him, blessed the newborn and checked out.</p> <p>Today, when Kareena candidly states that her only rival in the Bollywood celebrity stakes is her son, Taimur, one believes her. I hear, in those distant pre-quarantine days, a single, exclusive image of Taimur would be sold by enterprising photographers at three times the price of a click featuring any adult top star! Such was his draw. And the magic has not diminished. Taimur is born under a special star. In dark and dire times like these, I chose to write about Taimur for a reason. There is such utterly depressing news out there, that until and unless a vaccine is discovered, the world is going to be stuck in a Covid-rut. We all need a few distractions to keep our spirits up. Taimur’s photographs provide that tiny happy spike. I rejoice at the excitement his presence generates on social media. Taimur’s innocent antics bring a smile to my face as I wait impatiently for Kareena’s next post. There is something addictive about genuine fandom. Bring it on, Taimur!</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/04/23/bring-it-on-taimur.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/04/23/bring-it-on-taimur.html Thu Apr 23 15:15:58 IST 2020 uddhav-comes-into-his-own <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/04/09/uddhav-comes-into-his-own.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/4/9/19-Uddhav.jpg" /> <p>I first met Maharashtra’s 19th and current chief minister long ago at his family home, Matoshree, when his father Balasaheb Thackeray was, by far, the most feared leader in the state. Uddhav’s gracious mother, Meenatai, and his charming wife, Rashmi, played perfect hostesses, as a delicious and lavish meal was served in thaalis. Uddhav was observant, pleasant and quiet. We see a completely different man these days as he firmly steers his state through the Covid-19 crisis. Last week, he sent out a stern warning to citizens saying his government would not tolerate any attempt to create communal disharmony. His no-nonsense attitude turned several hardcore critics into reluctant admirers.</p> <p>It cannot be easy being Uddhav Thackeray. He is 59 years old, and just about coming into his own. Even though he took charge of the Shiv Sena after Balasaheb’s death in 2012, and also of the party mouthpiece, Saamana, his mild manners and lacklustre delivery at rallies left followers disappointed. They were accustomed to the fire and brimstone style of his father and of his more flamboyant cousin, Raj. Ironically, Raj is now out in the political wilderness, despite the showmanship, while Uddhav has emerged stronger by the day. Such is politics!</p> <p>The Uddhav I appreciated had nothing to do with politics. I admired his talent as a photographer. Uddhav’s approach to his passion was that of a crack professional. It was not just a weekend hobby for the man who graduated from the prestigious Sir J.J. Institute of Applied Art. When he came over to show me the dummy of a book he was planning to publish, he shared his work with infectious enthusiasm. I was most impressed by the quality of the photographs, especially the aerial shots clicked from a helicopter. We spent considerable time discussing each frame, and the book was later launched at the Jehangir Art Gallery.</p> <p>His first few years as a full-fledged politician were not as well received. Critics wrote him off for not being more outgoing, more dynamic and more assertive. In a way, this is when he cut his teeth, and, I am guessing, he quickly figured the old style of bullying and browbeating Mumbaikars had become passe. Besides, Uddhav has had two very dependable allies right in his home—his ambitious and good-looking wife, Rashmi, who has taken over Saamana, and his older son Aaditya, currently a junior minister in his cabinet. Nobody had expected the strange alliance with the Congress and the NCP to last. But then, nobody had anticipated the outbreak of the killer global virus, either. Some leaders need a mega crisis to reveal the stuff they are made of.</p> <p>I have never understood our fascination for macho netas, who bare their fangs to keep citizens in place. The only quality a true leader needs to inspire people is trust. Our elected representatives often forget they are in office to serve us, and are obliged to guide us through tough times. So far, Uddhav has acquitted himself pretty well. He has projected resolve, not intimidation; a huge difference. A reign of terror is already upon us in the form of a microbe. We certainly do not need to see people behaving inhumanly towards their fellow beings. Uddhav has assured his people that his administration will work strenuously for all, regardless of one’s caste,</p> <p>creed or religion.</p> <p>Going forward, one would like to see him push Maharashtra forward economically. This will need a more aggressive tactic. We are okay with focused aggression. It was the other far more misplaced one that citizens were sick of, since it came at a huge cost. We like the new and improved version of Uddhav. Let us hope he stays this way.</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/04/09/uddhav-comes-into-his-own.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/04/09/uddhav-comes-into-his-own.html Thu Apr 09 16:33:21 IST 2020 thank-you-dear-doctors <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/03/26/thank-you-dear-doctors.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/3/26/62-covid-doctors.jpg" /> <p>During this most challenging test faced by humanity, what has kept our spirits and hopes going is the incredible courage and commitment displayed by the medical fraternity across the world. But let me stick to the India story. Ever since the outbreak, doctors and support teams across our country have swiftly and willingly mobilised to contain the spread of Covid-19.</p> <p>On a personal note, I met two dynamic, well-spoken municipal doctors who came to check on my daughter who had returned from London on March 13. Their questions and systematic documentation made me marvel at the admirable job they were doing, at great personal risk to themselves. The lady doctors patiently took us through the various steps to be followed during the mandatory quarantine period, after which their assistants stamped my daughter’s wrist with the appropriate date. At all times, the team was proactive and patient, while taking us through the seriousness of the unfolding situation.</p> <p>A follow-up team showed up two days later, and they were equally meticulous. We got chatting and they told me how they were working round-the-clock in three shifts, barely getting to rest or eat a proper meal. The thick masks were causing discomfort, and their family time was severely curtailed. Despite that, they were cheerfully going about their work and reassuring panic-stricken citizens that if we all pulled together as one, India would be able to halt the march of mass deaths. I was impressed by their fortitude—they were young and had their entire life ahead of them, and yet here they were undertaking house-to-house checks, without once slacking off or being afraid of death.</p> <p>The very next day I received a message from a close friend telling me about her niece who is a junior doctor in a government hospital. I have known the young lady since she was a child and always believed she would make her mother proud, as she most definitely has! Like everybody else in her hospital, she has been putting in 16 hours a day, dealing with overcrowding and more. During the past month, she has been home just twice, and that, too, because she needed fresh clothes. Her anxious mother cannot always reach her, even for a brief daily chat. But there are no feelings of insecurity or resentment. Dealing with an unprecedented situation like this has made her resolve stronger. She has asked her mother not to worry. Yes, the resources are limited and the number of cases has gone up, but the doctors are doing whatever it takes to help the sick.</p> <p>It made me think of my uncle. He was a much-loved, much-trusted general practitioner in central Mumbai. He had an old-fashioned dispensary, with a compounder who filled glass bottles with mysterious liquids, the dosage marked with a paper strip. I remember his long hours as he met patient after patient, never once displaying anything but respect and regard towards each person. So many of his regulars were underprivileged people from the neighbourhood. The question of charging them fees simply did not arise. Had he been alive today, he would have served in whichever capacity and extended himself all the way in this monumental battle. Just as millions of doctors across India and the world are doing, along with nursing staff, ward boys and others. We owe them a big one.</p> <p>If, despite my reservations, I clapped at 5pm on March 22, it was because I wanted to demonstrate via a sincere, if very small, gesture how deeply we appreciate the staggering efforts of our medical fraternity to keep us safe. Let us hope this terrible crisis acts as a wake-up call and the government steps up its public health programmes on a war-footing. The Kerala model is the best way forward. Let us adopt it across states, and not place the entire burden of health care on our underpaid, under-staffed doctors slaving away in under-funded government-run hospitals.</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/03/26/thank-you-dear-doctors.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/03/26/thank-you-dear-doctors.html Thu Mar 26 15:59:29 IST 2020 a-gifted-mind <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/03/13/a-gifted-mind.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/3/13/68-A-gifted-mind-new.jpg" /> <p>Chairing a jury is not an easy job. Especially if it is a jury deciding which debut author to honour with a literary prize. I love fresh, new voices. If those happen to be voices of women, that is a bonus! It was with a high level of excitement that I attacked an impressive pile of shortlisted books which had made it to the premier edition of the AutHER Awards, with 850 entries of books published between 2019 and 2020. Umm... there was hell lot of reading to complete before the deadline… but hey, the list was yummy.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I stopped when I picked up a slim volume featuring 16 short stories. The cover gave nothing away; well, till you read award-winning author Jeet Thayil’s blurb. Fortunately, I missed it and got straight into the first story. The opening line struck me, “It seems as if I have been waiting here for years.” The setting is an airport. The writer is waiting for a delayed flight to Athens. That single line sets the tone for the rest of the collection titled This Is How It Took Place.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>In retrospect, and knowing what I now know, the title is eerie. And, here is why: Rudrakshi Bhattacharjee was 16 when she wrote the stories. She passed away by the time the book was published; Shinie Antony, a close friend of Rudrakshi’s mother Debashree, helped get the book published. The author would have been 19 this year. In the eloquent ‘Afterword’ penned by Shinie, readers get a brief but significant glimpse into Rudrakshi’s world—a world as rich in her unusual imagination, as it was in reality. Here was a brilliant person, who at the age of 15 was offered unconditional admission at an Ivy League college (Stanford) for a creative writing workshop on the basis of her written submission. She was also a champion golfer, swimmer, a whiz at math and science. She left behind several poems, stories, a novella and many unfinished novellas. All this, Shinie tells us, were lovingly located by her mother from her daughter’s computer, diaries and scraps of paper. The same mother, Rudrakshi had once reminded: “When I write, I am a writer, not a daughter.”</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Rudrakshi shared the prize with another talented debut author, Rehana Munir. Rudrakshi’s parents had flown in from Bengaluru for the special evening, and were a picture of calm and grace on stage. Debashree’s acceptance speech on behalf of Rudrakshi (the couple’s only child) was extraordinarily moving. She spoke about love and acceptance, but she also mentioned the power of “detachment”—an attribute she acquired from her daughter.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Ratnadip, Rudrakshi’s father, displayed restraint and fortitude when I spoke to him later. It was important to assure the parents that it was Rudrakshi’s prodigious talent that was being recognised with the prize—the jury was not casting a “sympathy” vote. That would have devalued all that Rudrakshi stood for.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It was essential to separate Rudrakshi’s work from her life. The writer’s imagined world is the one readers have access to and respect. Rudrakshi’s fiction displays a maturity beyond her tender years.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>After a long, long time, I read a collection that made me wish I had met the writer. While reading Rudrakshi’s searing prose I felt so drawn to her personality. I was half-tempted to bombard her mother with questions. This was certainly not the occasion for such intense questioning—I let the urge pass. I went back to her book, and looked for all the meanings that I may have missed during the first reading. There were literally hundreds of lines, cushioned innocuously within paragraphs, that jumped out like rare gems in a packet of synthetic stones. It is a book to share. A gift from a writer who slipped away, leaving us begging for more.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/03/13/a-gifted-mind.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/03/13/a-gifted-mind.html Mon Mar 16 20:30:14 IST 2020 when-zeenie-plays-kasturba <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/02/28/when-zeenie-plays-kasturba.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/2/28/74-When-Zeenie-plays-Kasturba-new.jpg" /> <p>It must be totally bizarre for a 69-year-old woman to be constantly addressed as Zeenie baby (I plead guilty—it was a Stardust tag ). But such is the power of enduring and catchy nicknames. Zeenat Aman is gracious enough to not blush when she is thus addressed by fans. But her latest foray, playing Mahatma Gandhi’s wife Kasturba on stage, has got audiences curious. One can call it a case of inspired casting… or a neat commercial decision to rope in a yesteryear sex symbol to portray the life and yearnings of a woman whose sex life comes with many question marks. Some of my friends from across the border tittered and mocked the choice of Zeenat starring in a play titled Dearest Bapu, Love Kasturba, and called it “absurd”. But, hey—as a local critic pointed out pertinently, if we could accept a white actor (Ben Kingsley) playing the Mahatma, why cannot we applaud the team for casting Zeenat as Kasturba? I totally agree.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The night Dearest Bapu… was premiering in south Mumbai, Zeenat sent me a sweet text, inviting me. I would have jumped at it, had a family wedding not clashed. Our short exchange was affectionate and appropriate. Zeenat is old-fashioned when it comes to good manners. I have always appreciated this attribute. She is never pushy—not even when she has her back to the wall, and could do with help. As I discovered when she was dealing with a conman—an absolute menace, who had cheated her out of a substantial amount in money and jewellery. A man she had blindly trusted. Yes, she had approached the police and had him apprehended. But her problem was not about to end with the criminal being behind bars. Despite the odds, and dealing with multiple issues, Zeenat was steadfast in her resolve to tackle the matter in the correct way, without seeking the influence of well-connected friends.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>For the past two decades, Zeenat has chosen to live her life as a semi-recluse. She told me she handles all her business affairs, including international appearances and promotions entirely on her own. This approach, in an era of a phalanx of pesky, bossy minders handling stars, is most refreshing. Zeenat has been seen on various TV shows, or gracing the odd award function, but she has behaved with absolute dignity, minus starry hype. And to think 30 years ago, Zeenat was one of the hottest women on the planet! I knew some of her ardent suitors, and the roll call of names is most impressive. I remember interviewing her when she was allegedly dating the then captain of the Pakistani cricket team—Imran Khan. Both were single at the time.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I intend to watch her play soon. Zeenat has returned to the stage after 15 years. Critics say the absence shows in her faltering delivery. But I can safely predict a safe run, despite the dreary reviews.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It needs a huge leap of the imagination to see the same voluptuous leading lady from hits like Don, playing Kasturba’s ‘spirit’ clad in shapeless, white khadi. Zeenat did point out the obvious disconnect when she mentioned the disparity in their frames—Kasturba was a petite woman while Zeenat is a tall, big girl. But good theatre is supposed to submerge the audience in illusion and fantasy. Perhaps, a few more rigorous rehearsals and a rejigging of the dialogues will generate a more positive buzz. As for me—I will attend just to watch my old friend Zeenat on stage. And ignore all the obvious flaws in the production.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/02/28/when-zeenie-plays-kasturba.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/02/28/when-zeenie-plays-kasturba.html Fri Feb 28 14:33:41 IST 2020 peter-peter-pumpkin-eater <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/02/14/peter-peter-pumpkin-eater.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/2/14/62-Peter-Peter-pumpkin-eater-new.jpg" /> <p>So, are you happy?” A reporter asked accused No 4 Peter Mukerjea as he left the court after being granted bail in the Sheena Bora murder case. Peter grinned and replied, “You mean is the Pope Catholic?”Hurrah! Peter has got his swag back! It has taken more than four years to be granted bail. In the interim, Peter has had a bypass surgery, lost weight, hair and smile and has taken to walking with a stick. The Bombay High Court has stayed the execution of the bail for six more weeks, which allows the CBI to contest it in the Supreme Court.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>In the sessions court, Indrani Mukerjea, his ex-wife and prime accused in the murder case, asked the judge why she would kill her own daughter when it was more logical to murder Peter, considering 75 per cent of his assets were in her name and the rest was jointly held by them! That is a fresh spin to the macabre story, and heaven knows what Indrani may spring next to extricate herself.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Cut to Peter’s life pre- and post-Indrani. We knew him socially and greatly enjoyed his company. Here was an urbane, witty, naughty bossman, with an eye for the ladies. Then along came Indrani, and everything changed, including Peter’s rambunctious personality. We continued to meet them as a popular couple, and watched Indrani’s metamorphosis from a fairly unsophisticated but enormously confident woman to a spunky Mumbai socialite. Soon, she became a boss lady herself and boasted to everybody she met at parties and events that she earned much more than Peter and was running the show while her husband “chilled”. Peter basked in her glory, glowing with pride, as she held court and talked ceaselessly about her new acquisitions—homes in London and the South of France (it could be south of Spain, I forget), which she generously offered to me and my family to vacation in if we ever happened to be in that part of the world. Through her whirlwind professional and personal journey, Peter stayed in her shadow. It was clear he was a hopelessly besotted husband, unable to see a single flaw in his wife.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Last year, at the Times Litfest in Bengaluru, a soft-spoken lady approached me in the authors’ lounge and introduced herself as Shangon, Peter’s sister. She wanted some time to speak to me in private. I was about to walk into my own session, and requested her to wait for me. Later, we chatted for 20 minutes as she took me through the minutest details of the case. I promised to assist in getting her story published in the Mumbai papers, but not a single editor was prepared at that stage to run the piece. It is, after all, a sensitive case, and matters are still sub judice. Shangon and Gautam (Peter’s brother) have been attending every court hearing, sitting next to their jailed sibling, bringing him his favourite snacks and keeping his morale up, while monitoring his failing health. Shangon mentioned pointedly that nobody comes to cheer up Indrani, except her lawyers. That is telling in itself.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>What happens next will be fascinating to track. Peter will not be allowed to meet his son Rahul, who was Sheena’s boyfriend and is a witness in the case. But at least he will be out of his jail cell, eating home-cooked meals and sleeping on his own bed. Whatever the outcome of this murder mystery, Indrani remains at the centre of the narrative. And, she is one tough cookie. Her health is not good, but her mind is ticking brilliantly. She, too, has applied for bail, arguing that if Peter was granted his, why discriminate against her. She has claimed that so far all the evidence produced in court has fallen flat. She also recently accused her former driver (who turned approver) of demanding Rs50 lakh from her to keep mum. With so many accusations and counter-accusations flying around, the curtain is unlikely to come down in a hurry on this sordid drama.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/02/14/peter-peter-pumpkin-eater.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/02/14/peter-peter-pumpkin-eater.html Fri Feb 14 11:18:05 IST 2020 the-indefatigable-dalrymple <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/01/31/the-indefatigable-dalrymple.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/1/31/64-The-indefatigable-Dalrymple-new.jpg" /> <p>William Hamilton-Dalrymple shares a name with a renowned English surgeon. Both need scalpels for their work. Our Williamji or Dalrymplesaab uses words as dexterously as the surgeon uses his medical tool. He is a pucca Dilliwala ‘burra sahib’, albeit with a marked Scottish accent. His late father, Sir Hew Hamilton-Dalrymple, was the tenth baronet. William’s older brother inherited the title, while William wrote, travelled, photographed, won awards, raised goats and children—all at a furious and astonishing pace. As co-director of the ‘Greatest Literary Show on Earth’—the Jaipur Literature Festival—he brings a unique energy to all he does. As a historian and academic, one would imagine he is ready to slow down. Not this man. At 54, with three grownup children, a beautiful painter wife, Olivia, and an almost unreal life at their farmhouse in Mehrauli, outside Delhi, William plays the part of a benevolent ‘White Mughal’ to perfection, swanning around in Pathani pajamas, loose, flowing kurtas, a gorgeous Kani flung carelessly over his shoulders. William is a performer. A man who reads his audience well, and plays to the galleries when the need arises. Through all that bluster and hearty laughs, ticks an amazing brain, acutely tuned in to all that surrounds him. But given his Scottish blood, the one thing William understands best is the power of money.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>His latest venture is a ‘Ganga Experience’ in Varanasi, with each participant shelling out £5,000 (gulp!) to get a distinctive perspective, curated and presented by William. When we met at the elegant Penguin Books party in Jaipur, I teased him about turning into a posh tourist guide. As always, he had an entourage of fawning fans mobbing him at the JLF, with his latest book, The Anarchy, flying off the shelves worldwide. His travels for each book are meticulously planned and documented and serve up rich detail and imagery. But it is when he does dramatised readings from his textured and eloquent writings, that even those who do not read his hefty historical accounts get drawn into the narrative. Simply but cleverly staged, with live music, appropriate miniatures and expensive carpets, the presentation invariably leaves audiences begging for more. I saw that in Adelaide, with invitees hanging on to every precious line. It is rare to come across as prodigious a writer, finding the time and possessing the talent to pull off a full on stage show!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Over the years, I have started to decode and accept William a little better than the first time we met over 30 years ago. That was a bit of a disaster! He was assigned by The Sunday Times (London) to write my profile and spend a week in my company, observing my life. Terrible idea! William was hopelessly distracted—he was on his honeymoon, and could not bear to stay away for too long from Olivia. They were staying at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, near my home, and he was in a tearing hurry to wrap up the assignment and get back to the inviting swimming pool. The loss, alas, was mine. But that is history. I have moved on. The William of today is a different animal—fun, irreverent, witty and, yes, less savage!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Recently, we spent a mellow evening at an impromptu after-party, post the concluding session of the JLF at Doha. A few of us had gathered—hungrily and thirstily in one of the suites well past midnight. There was greasy, over-priced Chinese takeaway food on the table, but mercifully the wine was top- class. We were joined by the fabulous Kutle Khan Project singers, who had closed the first edition of the lit fest with a rousing performance that had people dancing in the aisles. What followed in the suite was a relaxed mehfil, with everyone joining Kutle Khan as he sang ‘Mast Kalandar’. William was seated on the floor, and doing what he does so well these days—documenting every magical moment on camera. Yes, he was still working!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/01/31/the-indefatigable-dalrymple.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/01/31/the-indefatigable-dalrymple.html Sat Feb 01 16:38:03 IST 2020 ustad-quintessential-charmer <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/01/17/ustad-quintessential-charmer.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2020/1/17/66-Zakir-Hussain-Anisa-Qureshi-Antonia-Minnecola-new.jpg" /> <p>The boyish charm of the international tabla virtuoso is still intact. Zakir Hussain at 68, could pass off for a 48-year-old hippie, with his carefully disheveled mop of hair, casual shirt hanging over his slacks and the unmistakable ‘rock star’ air of utter nonchalance as he surveys a small but select audience, gathered to fete him—India’s number one percussionist at a unique event. It is the launch of Dayanita Singh’s maquette (mock-up of a book) dedicated to the man she calls her guru—Zakir! In her address, she thanks Zakir effusively and profusely for inspiring her to become a photographer at age 18. She talks about their first encounter in Ahmedabad, and how it changed her life. Through all the recounting of those precious years, when Dayanita’s camera chronicled moments (big and small) of Zakir’s incredible life during the ‘80s, the subject of her adulation (and the star of the evening), kept staring at his well-manicured nails or cracking an ironic, self-deprecatory smile at her generous praise. When he spoke, it was with immense humility and admirable tact, steering the conversation towards the life of artistes and interjecting it with backstage anecdotes. Like the times he shared the dressing room with the greats (Hariprasad Chaurasia, Ravi Shankar, Shivkumar Sharma and others). He dismissed off the title of being the ‘number one tabla player in the world’, claiming there were at least eight or ten equally good if not better players around. Then what was it that made him such a global star and marquee player? He confessed disarmingly, it was his ‘savoir-faire’. About the rigorous riyaaz required to make it big in the highly competitive world of classical music, Zakir, a Padma Bhushan awardee, gave all the credit to his legendary father, Ustad Alla Rakha, who would wake up young Zakir at 3am daily, when he was just seven, to begin the day’s punishing musical routine. “He didn’t touch the tabla at all… instead, my father spoke to me about music, narrated stories, talked about the various ragas… and invited me to sit on stage by his side during performances, observe everything… learn,” said Zakir.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Behind the cultivated image of an international ‘playboy percussionist’ is an aloof, reserved man, immersed in his music. His family life is never on display, and few have met his Italian American wife Antonia Minnecola, a Kathak dancer and Sitara Devi’s disciple. They have two daughters, and are fond grandparents, with a family home in California. Zakir prefers to let his tabla do all the talking, except when he is being interviewed on camera. As he hinted, everything becomes a performance eventually, if you are practically born on a stage. What I found fascinating was his method of prepping before accompanying another artiste. “Establishing a rapport is important. The exchange on stage is intuitive and non-verbal. There has to be a deep sense of trust and understanding between the musicians. This can only happen after you know one another’s lives. I like to figure out what the person eats, I want to meet the wife/husband and children, visit their home. Share a meal with them…. this is an essential part of the tayaari,” said Zakir.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Later, as he mingled with guests, over platters of artisanal cheese, he seemed far more relaxed, as did Dayanita herself. Their hour-long interaction had been expertly steered by veteran writer Nasreen Munni Kabir, who has done an interview-based book on Zakir (2018).</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It was a thought provoking evening for all of us, as we went out into the cool night, with words and images leaping inside our heads and hearts. What a lovely collaboration! Wah, Ustad, Wah!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/01/17/ustad-quintessential-charmer.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2020/01/17/ustad-quintessential-charmer.html Fri Jan 17 11:42:46 IST 2020 bravo-mimi <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/12/20/bravo-mimi.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/12/20/154-Mimi-Chakraborty-new.jpg" /> <p><b>I WATCHED</b> a poised and beautiful young person wearing a floaty, flower print dress (the sort British debutantes wear to garden parties in the summer) with matching orange heels, being chased by photographers at a recently concluded fest in Kolkata. It took me a minute to recognise the glamorous Trinamool Congress MP from Jadavpur, as she made her way to the dais to talk about ‘success and happiness’. She was impeccably groomed and perfectly made up, and I could not stop staring! I recalled her debut appearance in Parliament, at which she, along with another beautiful MP from the TMC—Nusrat Jahan—had effortlessly broken a sartorial rule by showing up in a chic and very stylish trousers and tucked-in-shirt ensemble. Well done, ladies, I said to myself and cheered them on.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Now here she was, talking easily and unselfconsciously about her early life and what success means to her. Fans in the first few rows were applauding her every remark. She was playing the worshipful crowd like a seasoned politician. And to think Mimi Chakraborty, an actor with several big hits in Bengali cinema, is just 30-years-old and a novice in politics. But hey—she campaigned hard, won with a convincing majority, and is there to prove to detractors that there is much more to her than being ‘The Most Desirable Women-2016’—a title bestowed on her through a poll. Today, she juggles an incredibly busy schedule which involves running between her constituency, attending Parliament, handling endorsements, doing personal appearances and, of course, acting. She lives by herself and prefers it that way, she confessed to her fawning admirers. She calls herself a ‘pet parent’ and insists her emotional needs are met when she gets home after a tiring day to be enthusiastically greeted by her four-legged companion.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>As I listened to her views on happiness and success, I was interested in what she had to share and marvelled at how smoothly she balanced priorities. For a former model, who left her parents’ home in Jalpaiguri to seek her fortune in Kolkata, Mimi has managed to steer her life adeptly, juggling multiple roles and expectations and clearly impressing the tough Didi (Mamata Banerjee) sufficiently enough to get a ticket. Mamata, shrewdly, counted on Mimi’s star power to woo her constituency and bag that important seat.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Mimi is no pretty-faced doll with a highly decorative presence and not much else. As she continued speaking, gauging the mood of the crowd and engaging with each person who asked a question, in a warm and personal manner, one could see a promising and long-term career in politics for her. I was amused when she said she feels happy when she bakes a cake, sticks a toothpick into it, and the toothpick emerges clean to indicate the cake is ready to be removed from the oven.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Mimi spoke emotionally about her early years when she did not receive any support from her folks, and had to fend for herself. She talked about the thrill of starting a fresh school term with new books, which her mother could ill-afford, but made sure to provide. Mimi’s first pay cheque was Rs15,000, and she recounted, with unfiltered glee, how thrilled she was at getting “so much money”. There was a childlike wonder in her eyes as she remembered her years of struggle, stopping once or twice to wipe her tears. None of this seemed rehearsed or fake.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Bravo! Mimi… you have broken several stereotypes and so quickly at that. The bold decision to shed the sari in favour of pants for your first day in Parliament made a powerful statement about your individuality and sense of self. You deserve all the bhalobashi (love) you receive!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/12/20/bravo-mimi.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/12/20/bravo-mimi.html Fri Dec 20 14:33:41 IST 2019 bhutan-queen-mother-in-khan-market <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/12/06/bhutan-queen-mother-in-khan-market.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/12/6/70-Bhutan-Queen-Mother-in-Khan-Market-new.jpg" /> <p>The time was late, the weather cold and most shops in Delhi’s Khan Market had already downed their shutters. I ducked into a fancy gift shop, least expecting to run into royalty! I heard a lady being addressed as ‘Your Highness’—the lady’s back was to me. She turned around and it was Ashi Dorji Wangmo Wangchuk, the beautiful and gracious Queen Mother of Bhutan.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>We had last met nine years ago at Mountain Echoes, the jewel of a lit fest in Thimphu, of which Her Majesty is the chief patron. It had been a warm and memorable encounter for several reasons. We were at a reception for visiting authors, hosted by then Indian Ambassador Pawan Verma, at our impressive embassy. The Queen Mother, the eldest queen of the fourth king of Bhutan (father of the present king, Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuk), had launched her book at the fest, and spoken from the heart on the gorgeous Kingdom of Bhutan.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>That was also the very day King Jigme had announced his engagement to a young, beautiful commoner, Jetsun Pema, to cheers and applause from his subjects. Just as the guests were discussing this development, it was announced that the king and his fiancée would be attending the reception. It may have been an impromptu decision, because it threw protocol out of the window, as security officers scrambled to prepare for the king’s arrival at what would otherwise have been a typical lit fest party—informal and possibly rowdy. I was seated on a sofa next to the Queen Mother, talking about her book, family life, environment, fashion and movies, when a palace official came over to inform her about the royal couple’s imminent arrival. She swiftly turned to her daughter Sonam, and after a short exchange with her, excused herself and stood head bowed at the entrance to receive the royal guests as their cavalcade drove in. A hush descended over the gathering. It was an electrifying moment—all eyes were on the handsome king and his fiancée, both dressed in grand ceremonial robes, and so obviously in love. The Queen Mother greeted them with a deep bow, as guests awaited their turn to be introduced.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It was during this short trip to Bhutan that I got to spend a little time with a remarkable lady whose commitment to furthering the interests of her country through cultural, educational and environmental exchanges came through so clearly. Her calm and grace as she handled questions and explained the nuances of an ancient culture charmed and impressed all those who met her. She was kind enough to subsequently give us signed copies of her coffee table book—Treasures of the Thunder Dragon: A Portrait of Bhutan.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>And, I least expected to run into her buying scented candles in a market in Delhi. We reconnected instantly, and I asked if we could take pictures. Looking on and smiling broadly was the Bhutanese Ambassador to India Maj Gen Vetsop Namgyel. A small entourage was helping the 65-year-old Queen Mother make up her mind as she browsed through the store. I watched her glide past counters, a poised, perfectly groomed lady in black, and marvelled at her equanimity. Here she was, with her highly privileged background and status, behaving with admirable humility. I had just finished meeting a bunch of pompous ‘prominent people’ with overblown egos and no real attributes worth praising. I had watched them throw their weight around in the Authors’ Lounge at the Times Litfest, and been totally put off by their crass attempts to attract attention. What a contrast to this modest royal, who has authored three books and works tirelessly for her people, especially the farming communities! Lit fests are great equalisers. It is easy to tell the empty talkers from those who command and not demand respect. The Queen Mother is truly Bhutan’s national treasure, and I look forward to meeting her again, hopefully in Thimphu.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/12/06/bhutan-queen-mother-in-khan-market.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/12/06/bhutan-queen-mother-in-khan-market.html Fri Dec 06 11:34:47 IST 2019 the-utterly-charming-sandy <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/11/22/the-utterly-charming-sandy.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/11/22/67-The-utterly-charming-Sandy-new.jpg" /> <p>As I began to write this column, I was doing extensive homework on one of the world’s most successful writers—Alexander McCall Smith. Discovery No.1: we share a birth year, and he is younger by a few months. We were introduced over email by Anil Dharker, the festival director of the prestigious Tata Literature Live. Anil had requested me to be ‘In Conversation’ with the author of over 80 books! I confessed I had not read even one of them. “Not even his bestseller, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency?” Anil asked in disbelief. “Not even,” I admitted sheepishly. And then I started reading his latest book, To the Land of Long Lost Friends, and was instantly hooked. From the opening chapter itself (Inside People, Outside People), I was pulled into an open air wedding taking place in a distant land. By the end of the book, I felt I knew each and every character intimately, especially Precious Ramotswe, doyenne of private investigators in Botswana, and the star of the series.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>When I met Alexander (“Call me Sandy”), I felt like we were old friends—his book had done the trick! He was dressed magnificently in a Scottish kilt, and was naturally asked the most obvious question by a curious gentleman: “What do Scots wear under the kilt—if they wear anything at all?” Sandy must have answered that hundreds of times, for he had a ready reply. He clarified that he himself chooses to wear underwear. Underwear is optional for all Scots, except for those in the Scottish Regiment—nothing comes between them and their kilts! As a conversationalist, Alexander sparkles. He is a superb raconteur, and that evening he was in fine form, despite being severely jet-lagged. Elizabeth, his wife (a retired physician), is more reticent, and prefers to let her husband of 37 years, hog the limelight. Alexander was one of the stars of the Jaipur Lit Fest last year, and is certainly the big draw at Tata Literature Live this year. He seems indefatigable going by his website, which provides details of his hectic schedule, as he traipses across the world, meeting readers, giving talks and—hold your breath—still managing to write between 1,000 to 5,000 words a day! His astonishing output has placed him in the category of the world’s richest authors, with the likes of J.K. Rowling, a neighbour.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>His books share a common thread. They are about ‘finding happiness’. Over a drink, he had mentioned how he visits Botswana at least twice a year, because he finds that the people there are genuinely happy with their lives. Alexander, who is involved with many charities, has the rare gift of not just seeking, but spreading happiness. Words used to describe his work are “generous writing with dry humour, gentleness and humanity”. He shuns caricaturing and there is zero condescension towards his subjects. Gender issues form a huge part of his work. Through his characters he underlines male-female binaries, in a subtle and insightful manner.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I watched him move around the room easily and without the slightest airs. Here is a person who is also a professor emeritus of medical law, with honorary doctorates from 13 universities, a musician who has written the libretto for an opera, and is the celebrated writer of the world’s longest running serial novel, 44 Scotland Street. Gosh! And here I am—exhausted just looking at this one man’s incredible accomplishments! And there is Sandy—relaxed, disarming and utterly charming, while composing his next 5,000 words for the day inside his crowded head!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/11/22/the-utterly-charming-sandy.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/11/22/the-utterly-charming-sandy.html Fri Nov 22 11:33:19 IST 2019 diwali-at-Jalsa <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/11/07/diwali-at-Jalsa.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/11/7/70-diwali-bachchan.jpg" /> <p>There are Diwali parties, and then there is THE Diwali party—the one hosted by the Bachchans. It is much looked forward to, and over the years it has acquired a near-mythical status. It was being hosted after a gap of two years, and when Jaya Bachchan phoned to extend an invitation, I was delighted to accept. It is one scintillating evening, which sees most of Bollywood on the lawns of Jalsa, though not in the open air. The Bachchans are considerate enough to create an air-conditioned marquee, lined with food stations and bars, as superstars converge to greet colleagues, play cards, and have a fabulous time.</p> <p>This year, as in previous years, there was a terrific melange of established stars and newbies. There was a fair representation of the vast entertainment industry, given Amitabh’s multi-discipline career—from movies to KBC. And there he was, standing tall, meeting and greeting every single guest with the same level of warmth. Think about it—there must have been close to 400 invitees that night. Amitabh, who had been spotted at a neighborhood hospital just a few days earlier, displayed zero signs of any illness. If anything, he seemed out to prove skeptics wrong—his health seemed robust, and his energy inexhaustible. This was my biggest takeaway from the long night. Here was a stalwart, a legend… who had not sipped even a glass of water, nor stopped for a nibble during those tiring hours of being a supremely welcoming host. He had not sat down even for a few seconds! And the smile on his face as he spent hours posing for selfies, looked genuine. This is nothing short of a feat.</p> <p>Amitabh is one of the most active senior citizens on social media. He has been ahead of the curve in many respects, but this advantage over other, far younger stars, cannot be underestimated. He is sensitive enough to realise the worth of each selfie posted by awestruck invitees to his Diwali celebrations. And, he was not about to pass up on priceless posts! That is brilliant thinking, I concluded, watching rows of fabulously dressed guests dutifully queuing up for a cherished photo op. I wondered if the stars of today, so many of whom were present, would ever be able to acquire Big B’s stature in the movie industry. He has weathered countless storms and controversies, major health scares and other challenges. Despite that—there he stands—tall and imposing, treating every guest with the same attention and warmth.</p> <p>Bollywood’s newbies floated around in elaborate designer outfits, mingling easily and behaving ‘starry’—fame is a tricky commodity to handle. These kids are just about learning the ropes. I observed them all with amusement—from Tapsee Pannu to Karthik Aaryan, Sara Ali Khan to Ananya Pandey. And, I recalled seeing Amitabh at the famous Stardust parties hosted by Nari Hira more than 45 years ago. He was also a newcomer to the super glam world of Mumbai’s tinseltown. But at no stage did he jump around from table to table, trying desperately to attract attention. It took him a while to establish himself after gaining a toehold in Bollywood.</p> <p>We left by the time Shah Rukh Khan arrived, and walked away as hero number one. His admirable presence of mind and courage helped saved the life of Archana Sadanand, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan’s longtime manager, when her lehenga caught fire at the party. Aishwarya rushed to her rescue while SRK doused the flames with his sherwani, receiving minor burns in the process. Despite SRK’s heroic act, the evening belonged to the tireless host.</p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/11/07/diwali-at-Jalsa.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/11/07/diwali-at-Jalsa.html Thu Nov 07 18:57:56 IST 2019 the-chirpy-mrs-and-mr-singh <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/10/25/the-chirpy-mrs-and-mr-singh.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/10/25/149-The-chirpy-Mrs-and-Mr-Singh-new.jpg" /> <p>From the very first time we met, I hit it off instantly with Shivinder Singh—the 44-year-old former promoter of Fortis, who is currently in judicial custody while under investigation for a Rs3,000 crore fraud. Of course, I am being naïve when I say this, but he did not look, nor sound like a crook. I found him and his beautiful wife, Aditi, utterly charming—it is rare to come across such a couple! As today’s teenagers put it so aptly, “They are totally into each other.” None of it appeared contrived or fake to me. It was a true-blue ‘mutual adoration’ society, with plenty of unabashed PDA, giggles and blushes. He was under the scanner even then, but looked completely unperturbed. I took several pictures of the couple, including a delightful one on the dance floor. At another family function, I had met their extended clan and spent a long afternoon chatting with Mrs and Mr Singh, admiring Aditi’s jewellery and his sense of humour. Then too, he had responded easily and confidently to questions I posed about the scandal that had created headlines internationally. I had urged Shivinder to write a book and present his side of the story, since press reports had been pretty one-sided. He had readily agreed and said he had been thinking about it, even though the matter was sub judice and he would have to leave out a lot of the hot potato material. I assured him his life would still make compelling reading—it had more masala than any movie script—religion, money and fraud! He laughed and we exchanged numbers to stay in touch.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The last time we ran into each other was significant. It was at the wedding reception for a mutual friend’s daughter. Many big ticket billionaires had jetted in for the event, only to jet out a couple of hours later. Aditi and Shivinder were doing the same. I did not ask if they were taking a commercial flight. The others had arrived in their personal Bombardiers. Earlier the same morning, another mutual friend had sent me an ominous text saying the Singh brothers were going to be arrested soon. I asked Shivinder chattily about the news, like it was normal for high profile business folks to face arrest. Well, it is becoming the new normal, I guess, because he shrugged, smiled… and I clicked some more pictures of the couple. This time, they did not dance. But everything else was intact—the PDA, giggles, jokes. I brought up the book again and he said he had signed up with a publisher, but was waiting for a competent writer… someone who would be in sync with his emotional state and sensitive to his point of view. That was not too difficult, I said and offered to recommend a few names. He said he had most of the material in place, but was getting stuck somewhere. Aditi kept staring at her husband, with love pouring out of her eyes. She added how intense her husband was… writing candidly about his life under the present circumstances was proving to be a huge challenge. It was time to say goodbye. No reference was made to the impending arrest. It was as if Shivinder genuinely believed such an action would not be taken.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I can hardly comment on the case, given that I know very little about how Religare Finvest Ltd (RFL) managed to siphon Rs1,000 crore to shell companies, according to the Economic Offences Wing. Now I read Shivinder has sought interim bail from the Delhi court and wants to settle. For me, Shivinder and Aditi will forever remain the chirpy, forever-in-love couple… childhood sweethearts-turned life partners, joyfully in tune with one another, if not the world. Through sickness and in good health. Through good times and bad.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/10/25/the-chirpy-mrs-and-mr-singh.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/10/25/the-chirpy-mrs-and-mr-singh.html Fri Oct 25 11:24:44 IST 2019 ma-anand-sheela-second-coming <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/10/12/ma-anand-sheela-second-coming.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/10/12/72-Ma-Anand-Sheela-second-coming-new.jpg" /> <p>The ‘Tough Titty’ from the wildly popular Netflix series, Wild, Wild Country (2018), came back to India after 34 years. It has been an incredible homecoming for one of the most controversial women in contemporary popular culture—Sheela Patel, better known as Ma Anand Sheela of the Bhagwan Rajneesh scandal. Today, at 70, she is basking in her newfound fame as she travels across her old stomping grounds, each move being filmed by a Bollywood crew for a documentary, and a possible movie on her incredible life as a sanyasin in Osho’s ashram—first in Pune, and later in Oregon, US.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I am sure she could not have envisaged such a rip-roaring reception to her dramatic return to the land of her birth. Sheela is the toast of the super-rich in Mumbai and Delhi, with movie stars, politicians and socialites falling over backwards to host lavish soirees in her honour. She has been provided a luxe wardrobe by designer Sanjay Garg, and I believe she is being paid a fat fee to cover her travel and stay, and a little something more for herself and the two ladies who are her companions and live with her in Basel.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I was requested by a private organisation to be ‘in conversation’ with her at a closed-door event in Pune. I accepted with enthusiasm, given how well we had hit it off when we last met in Prague at a similar members-only event. She had said she was afraid to come back to India, since there were many enemies waiting to eliminate her. Why? Because she knew too much about the sinister goings-on inside the Osho empire? Or because she was a convicted felon who had served 39 months on charges that included attempted murder, wire-tapping, grand larceny, kidnapping and bio-warfare. Sheela denies all charges and talks lightly about her incarceration, as if it is quite okay to have to defend oneself in these circumstances. She had demanded a security cover if she ever returned to India.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The Sheela of today is a transformed woman, who wants to stick to a carefully prepared script—love, beauty, social service. Any reference to the past (chronicled by her in the best-selling book titled Don’t Kill Him: The Story of My Life with Bhagwan Rajneesh) is shrugged off with a wave and a soft dismissal, “Let’s move on….” Most people who meet this version of Sheela have no knowledge about her shocking past, which suits her fine. Young people are awestruck and rush to hug this benign-looking, diminutive lady, who makes it a point to confess, “I was a young girl when I met Bhagwan…. I fell in love with him.” The audience goes “Awwwww”, and willingly abandons any hard questions about the long-term relationship with Rajneesh, who she insists she did not have sex with… and no, there were no orgies in the ashram, as outsiders believe (and… errrr, many can prove).</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Ma Sheela is a shrewd, intelligent woman who has figured out her time starts now. Life has thrown her a second and very generous chance. If she wants to make herself relevant and heard again, she will have to capitalise on the world’s interest in her as of now. Her Bollywood debut is already creating ripples, with Sheela nominating Alia Bhatt as the person to play her and Aamir Khan starring as the charismatic Rajneesh. Helming this sizzling project will be Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions. A good fit for both.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>For a woman who showed her middle finger to an Australian journalist on camera and hurled the choicest abuses at international news conferences that overshadowed Ronald Reagan’s during prime time, Sheela is on a roll once more. Albeit in a totally different avatar. Reinvention suits Sheela. Unfortunately, the past cannot be wished away.... She may have ‘moved on’. But others have not. The fiery ‘Tough Titty’ will have to deal with this nuisance, alas.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/10/12/ma-anand-sheela-second-coming.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/10/12/ma-anand-sheela-second-coming.html Sat Oct 12 11:07:37 IST 2019 remembering-the-rage-and-the-rain <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/09/26/remembering-the-rage-and-the-rain.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/shobhaa-de/images/71-Kiran-Nagarkar-new.jpg" /> <p>This is not about Kiran Nagarkar, the writer. It is about Kiran Nagarkar, the person. I was in a distant land when I heard of his passing. I was taken aback by the suddenness. And yet, not. The news was conveyed via an email. I was sitting by myself at a café in Riga, Latvia, and had no one I could turn to. No one to share that moment with. I did not shed a tear. I carried on sipping my coffee, as if losing a friend of many years was well… normal. I guess, it is ‘normal’, but it is also immensely sad and painful… especially when you know your beloved friend had already given up on life. And perhaps, his passing had spared him further ignominy and humiliation. I sat for a long time over that coffee, a smile on my lips as I recalled our last meeting just two months earlier. I had sensed I might never meet him again—not just because he seemed even frailer than usual. Not because his voice had changed, as had the expression in his eyes… it was something else. Kiran had surrendered. And that flummoxed me. Surrendered? Kiran ? Did he not know he would always have millions of admirers who loved him, loved his books, loved his spirit?</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>That evening at Mumbai’s iconic Sea Lounge, I met a vanquished Kiran who spoke morosely about his emotional state—he had never felt this let down by people he thought were his supporters and friends. The same people who refused to acknowledge him or take his calls after the ‘scandal’. He expressed surprise and ‘gratitude’ that I had readily jumped at the opportunity to meet for tea. “Are you sure ?” he had asked hesitantly. I was certain.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Kiran Nagarkar was battling charges framed by three women who had accused him of inappropriate behaviour at the time of the #MeToo fever. He was keen to talk about what had happened… in a puzzled and troubled way. I have no idea, and neither do I want to get into the details. With the rain pelting down over the angry, churning grey sea outside the bay window, all I really wanted to do was comfort a broken, finished man who had been turned into an overnight pariah by the literary establishment. He was dropped from lit fests just like that, and most of his speaking engagements stood cancelled. People he had known for years looked the other way when they spotted him in public. Editors claimed they could not overrule resistance from their female reporters, who insisted on ‘banning’ Kiran. His last book (The Arsonist) was shredded by critics, and he confessed not a single copy of Ravan and Eddie (Kiran’s most significant book) had sold after the story broke. He was not playing martyr. He seemed genuinely bewildered, asking over and over again where he had erred and in what way.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I tried to lighten the mood and change the subject. As always, we were conversing in Marathi and I was relieved when at some point Kiran used some delicious Marathi slang to hurl a few choice abuses at his tormentors. This endeared him to me the most! Instantly dropped was the self-pitying narrative. This was the feisty Kiran readers and friends adored—giving it back to those who had hurt and destroyed him. We laughed at his more graphic ‘gaalis’, and I asked for more Darjeeling tea. Kiran stuck to bottled water. I clicked several portraits, marvelling at how terrific Kiran looked, ravaged and fatigued, though he was. We went to the lobby and he said, “Let’s get someone to take a picture of us together.” “Let’s !” I concurred eagerly. There was but a moment of hesitation before Kiran asked, “May I…?” before placing his hand on my shoulder. We both burst out laughing. I joked, “Kiran… it is an age-thing! You and I do not have to bother to be politically correct—go right ahead.”</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It is a sweet, natural picture showing two 70-plus friends, smiling in a relaxed and comfortable way—the way old friends are meant to. I teased Kiran that he had carefully wrapped my uneaten cookies in paper napkins, and taken his half-drunk bottle of mineral water with him. “I have paid for both—why leave anything behind!” he said. Why, indeed!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>What Kiran Nagarkar has indeed left behind is a tremendously powerful body of work. May his literary legacy thrive and bloom. RIP, mazaa priya mitra.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/09/26/remembering-the-rage-and-the-rain.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/09/26/remembering-the-rage-and-the-rain.html Thu Sep 26 17:05:23 IST 2019 smashing-doubts <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/30/smashing-doubts.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/8/30/54-Smashing-doubts-new.jpg" /> <p>We all love world champions, do we not? Our newest darling is P.V. Sindhu, just 24 and in a league of her own after claiming the title at the Badminton World Championships in Basel, Switzerland, on August 25, defeating Nozomi Okuhara of Japan. Sindhu was a picture of confidence and grace. With the Olympics just a year away, Pullela Gopichand is already figuring out a strategy for his star player, who, while thanking her coach profusely, dedicated the victory to her mother, whose birthday was on the same day. Sindhu also acknowledged the invaluable help she received from her strength trainer, Srikanth Verma.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>But for me, the one person who stood out during Sindhu’s hour of glory was P.V. Ramana, her father, the man who has been her chief motivator from the time she started playing badminton. Not only does he drive her to training sessions, but he also gives his daughter a 30-minute nightly massage to help her sleep better. Sindhu is fortunate to have parents who have put their own lives on hold so that she can fulfill her dreams.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>As I read a stream of congratulatory messages pouring in, I was trying to visualise the domestic scene in Basel. The lives of our sportspeople are exceedingly demanding, with zero time to unwind or just do nothing. I recall reading a candid interview with Roger Federer, in which he admits how strenuous it is for competitive athletes to endure punishing schedules without the luxury of switching off. He talked about rushing to the airport, getting into his private plane and jetting off, minutes after each match. He wistfully confessed how he missed the leisure of enjoying a dinner date over wine with his wife, after clinching the title in an exotic destination.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Well, the rewards are plentiful. So, I guess giving up on precious ‘we time’ with a partner does not hurt as much. But our beautiful young badminton champ is single and still in her twenties. I see her at glam events, clad in couture. She speaks articulately and naturally about life off the court. The mother in me gets all mushy. I want to see her with a supportive life partner some day soon.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Saina Nehwal and Sania Mirza seem to have worked out their personal spaces very skillfully. Saina’s husband (Parupalli Kashyap) belongs to her world. Sania’s cricketer husband (Shoaib Malik) lives across the border, and has always been acutely sensitive towards his wife’s commitment to tennis.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>From the outside, the high profile world of our sports stars appears dazzling and glorious—which it is! But when one thinks of the sweat and slog involved in staying ahead in competitive sports, it is gruelling and taxing to say the least.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Sindhu has not had it easy. Since the Olympics in 2016, she has lost 10 finals and won six titles. She has had to fight off the ‘choker in finals’ title. But with this decisive win, she has silenced all doubters and critics.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It is a great time to be a supernova in the sports arena. And Sindhu should enjoy every bit of her success. This Hyderabadi girl says she enjoys biryani and pizza. Let us hope she gets to eat both, at least occasionally. Listed at number 13 among the highest paid female athletes, and with a Padma Shri (2015) to her name, our achiever is inspiring countless young girls to take up a sport of their choice, and give it their best.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>With her impressive height and toned frame, she is a sought after model, gracing covers of international fashion magazines and wowing front-row fashionistas as a showstopper. There is no stopping our high octane shuttler, who has her eyes set on the Olympic gold at Tokyo 2020.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b><a href="http://www.shobhaade.blogspot.com/">www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</a></b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/30/smashing-doubts.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/30/smashing-doubts.html Fri Aug 30 11:35:49 IST 2019 why-neena-gupta-gets-my-vote <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/17/why-neena-gupta-gets-my-vote.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/8/17/86-Why-Neena-Gupta-gets-my-vote-new.jpg" /> <p>I ran into the beautiful and supremely talented Neena Gupta at a mutual friend’s birthday dinner, on the day the National Film Awards were announced. I said, “I was hoping you would bag the best actress award for Badhaai Ho.’’ She laughed and said, “National Awards are great, but they don’t get you new roles… Filmfare Awards do… this is what Mahesh Bhatt told me years ago.” Going by Neena’s current status in Bollywood, I would agree with Bhatt. Badhaai Ho 2 has been announced and the original is being remade in Tamil, Telugu, Kannada and Malayalam. She will be seen in an Akshay Kumar-Katrina Kaif starrer soon. Originality always wins. So does boldness. Neena is both, bold and original—an intrinsic part of her DNA.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I am not sure how she bagged the tricky role of a middle-aged mother who finds herself pregnant with her third child, much to the embarrassment of her family in Badhaai Ho. Remember, Neena had done the unthinkable a little earlier, by candidly putting herself out there and asking for roles. Why ever not? Here was an award-winning actress finding herself with nothing in her kitty, despite her obvious talent and enormous popularity on television and in Bollywood. Today, she is as busy as her equally talented fashion designer daughter Masaba, and divides her time between Delhi and Mumbai.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Neena, the breaker of rules and hearts, has always opted for the road less taken. When she decided to go ahead and have superstar West Indian cricketer Viv Richards’s baby out of wedlock, back in 1989, she sent shockwaves across India. But, she went ahead regardless. She has stayed unapologetic and calm despite all the criticism, only admitting, “It was a selfish act on my part.’’ Today, she is her talented daughter’s quiet and faithful supporter, sportingly wearing her designs to fashion events, and standing by her. The night we met, she was looking ravishing in a blood red, jungle-themed Masaba sari. The essential Neena remains unchanged over the many years I have known her. I recall a fascinating conversation I had with her on a Mumbai-Delhi flight, ten years ago or so. She had recently married a charming businessman (Vivek Mehra) she had met accidentally. Neena spoke about her new husband with humour and pride, and thankfully, everything seems to have worked out for them, going by public posts and pictures. Perhaps, he has provided the much-needed stability Neena needed after years of struggling to raise Masaba as a single parent. Those years could not have been easy, given the jibes and taunts faced by mother and daughter. As she once told me that her own father moved in with them to provide the emotional support both required. Today, she is worried about Masaba’s future, after the collapse of her marriage to Madhu Mantena, a filmmaker. But trust Neena to be fair in her views, as she commented wistfully, “I wonder what went wrong. All of us really liked Madhu. We found him very sweet.” I hastily reassured her that these things happen and as far as Masaba is concerned, she is by far the most talented designer of her generation, who is being wooed by international brands.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Those of us of a certain vintage will recall Neena almost stealing the show from Madhuri Dixit in that naughty, tantalising song, Choli ke peeche kya hai… (Khalnayak, 1993). Neena really had it all—has it all. Today, at 60, she could still give ladies half her age serious competition. Neena laughs easily, which is always a great sign. And speaks spontaneously—an equally attractive trait. Neena gets my vote—for her talent, of course. But above all—for being a gutsy, modern woman who dared to script her own narrative sans regret.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/17/why-neena-gupta-gets-my-vote.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/17/why-neena-gupta-gets-my-vote.html Sat Aug 17 12:07:38 IST 2019 margaret-my-soul-sister <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/02/margaret-my-soul-sister.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/8/2/86-Margaret-my-soul-sister-new.jpg" /> <p>Margaret Mascarenhas, transnational poet, essayist and curator, who passed away in Goa on July 14, had sent me one of her typically worded, sharp and witty text messages around 5pm on Saturday, July 13. She needed some help with a banking issue and as she cryptically stated, she did not have much time left, and would the bank manager in Goa kindly visit her at home to get a few key signatures, since she was hooked up to a drip, and very weak? I instantly activated a senior at her bank, who promised to send someone over on Monday.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Too late. On Sunday morning, I had just finished an exhilarating session at the Mysuru Literature Festival, when my husband informed me that my friend of four decades was no more. I had planned to visit her at her village home to say our final goodbyes, a week or so earlier. But the deluge in Mumbai had led to a mass cancellation of flights that morning. Her text had noted: “I am not a pretty sight…, do not fly in dangerous weather DE-ity.” This was her nickname for me. The one we always laughed over. Our relationship had started on a shaky note at an edit meet for a city magazine that never took off. She had recently recalled my negative reaction to her bright red nail paint. And she confessed she had pretty much disliked everything about me.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Margaret was an unusual woman—fiercely individualistic and with a formidable ego. Out of her three published books, I liked Triage: Casualties of Love and Sex the most, though it is Skin—her first book—that shot her into prominence.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Margaret was not afraid of anything, not even death. In keeping with her free and ferocious spirit, she gave her Facebook friends a ten-day window to save any material they wanted from her account, since she planned to totally obliterate her presence on social media, claiming full agency over her words. She managed to do just that.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>She was also puzzled by the concept of ‘legacy’ and wanted none of it. As her long time friend Peter Griffin mentioned to me, they had discussed it a few days before she passed, and it was mutually decided she would be happy “haunting” her loved ones as either a Goan kingfisher or a glittering firefly.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>She had declared us to be “soul sisters” and our exchanges were invariably energising, as we discussed books, music, food (her passions), and children. She had held mine when they were babies and remembered each one of them by early character traits and idiosyncrasies.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>She had sent me a lovely photograph of us together, a few days before her condition deteriorated. Towards the end, she was too frail to chat, slipping in and out of consciousness. Despite the acute, debilitating pain, she would joke about her worsening condition and we would laugh over the after effects of morphine patches and what a bitch life was.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Her going away has left a huge void in my life. Not only because she was a friend, but because she was Margaret—passionate and compassionate.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I had heard her sing several times, and watched her dance—her large, expressive blue eyes surveying the space, not missing a thing. And I recalled her matter of fact remark when she shared, “I have a perfect body. I cannot tell you the number of artists, painters, photographers who want to work with me.” This was not vanity. I will always remember our candid conversation, and feel deeply saddened about this same perfect body being ravaged in the end.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I think of her vibrant presence as she worked strenuously on the Blue Shores Prison Art project with criminals and reluctant prison officials. Just Another Car Bomb (working title) was the book she was working on. What happens to that? What happens to anything, once the creator dies? A kingfisher or a firefly suddenly appears… and for a brief, while we fool ourselves about the glitter of our existence.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/02/margaret-my-soul-sister.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/08/02/margaret-my-soul-sister.html Fri Aug 02 11:55:27 IST 2019 fight-on-indira-jaising-and-anand-grover <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/07/20/fight-on-indira-jaising-and-anand-grover.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/7/20/54-indira-anand.jpg" /> <p>Indira Jaising is first an old and affectionate friend, and a brilliant lawyer-activist next. I have known her and her husband, Anand Grover, for over 40 years. At the time we met and grew close, they were still quintessential Mumbaikars—they lived in Bandra, commuted to Fort, and hung out with like-minded folks who looked up to them for their exemplary work. From fighting for the rights of the city’s homeless pavement dwellers to representing the victims of the horrific Bhopal gas tragedy, they were out there, tirelessly and fearlessly taking on the mighty, armed with their impeccable credentials and formidable reputations. Thanks to their pioneering efforts in forming landmark laws against domestic violence, discriminatory practices against HIV patients and much more, both were given due recognition in India and internationally decades ago. Indira, the first woman to be appointed additional solicitor general (2009), is a Padma Shri recipient and was ranked 20 in Fortune magazine’s 2018 ranking of the World’s Greatest Leaders, while Anand is recognised globally for his commitment to protecting human rights. I guess none of this counts with the present administration.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>An FIR was lodged against the dynamic couple by the CBI in June for alleged violation of the Foreign Contribution (Regulation) Act. The Lawyers Collective, their NGO, is under fire. This came after the raids in 2016, when their premises were inspected and documents seized. The sudden raid this time, therefore, comes as a shock to those who respect the consistent and long-term efforts put in by them over the years, challenging all that is rotten in the system. I guess that is where the problem lies. Fortunately, the Bar Association of India has issued a statement condemning the CBI raids, calling it “excessive, disproportionate and unjustified”. Those in the know describe these raids as “spiteful and retaliatory”. Indira, as we all know, had demanded a “due inquiry process” in the sexual harassment case against Chief Justice of India Ranjan Gogoi.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The thing is, harassing those “engaged in constitutionally protected activities of advancing human rights and upholding the rule of law’’, as BAI points out, is one more way to shut down dissent in any form. It is a good thing Indira and Anand have succeeded in mobilising support by initiating an international petition that aims to generate thousands of signatures before August 15. I am not sure how effective such a campaign is likely to be, given that most citizens are nervously waiting and watching Narendra Modi’s new government after the incredible mandate that gives him and his team sweeping powers. The home ministry seems determined to send out a strong message to individuals like Indira and Anand: suspend your activism, or face the consequences. Knowing the stuff both are made of, I am certain they will fight back ferociously. But what can individuals do by themselves against a state that wields a big stick to threaten those who speak up? Frankly, a lot! It is imperative to join this protest against oppressive measures, designed to instil fear and silence those who dare to talk truth to power.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>For me, Indira and Anand will remain the gutsy Mumbaikars who boldly put themselves on the line. Those days, I used to visit their cramped office, teeming with poor complainants pinning all their hopes on a group of idealistic lawyers who worked long hours filing cases pro bono on their behalf. These are priceless blessings from the voiceless. And, what happens down the line as Indira and Anand soldier on will impact not just the future of the Lawyers Collective, but our future as citizens in a democracy. I want them to know that they are not alone in this fight. Justice will prevail in the end. Nobody is asking for anything more.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/07/20/fight-on-indira-jaising-and-anand-grover.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/07/20/fight-on-indira-jaising-and-anand-grover.html Sat Jul 20 13:06:28 IST 2019 how-shahid-and-the-other-kapoors-are-refreshingly-regular <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/07/05/how-shahid-and-the-other-kapoors-are-refreshingly-regular.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/7/5/69-Mira-Rajput-and-Shahid-Kapoor-new.jpg" /> <p>Actor Shahid Kapoor’s quiet dignity and confidence make him stand out in an industry that encourages flamboyance and OTT conduct. From the start of a career that has been marked with critical and commercial success, Shahid has held his own against colleagues who were taller, brawnier, better looking, and yes, compulsive attention-seekers. For instance, he did not book a grand villa on Lake Como for his wedding, nor plaster every tiny detail of the pre- and post-ceremony on social media platforms. He chose a private, family celebration and a bride who was not from the film industry. It was as close to an arranged marriage as you can get! Mira Rajput (14 years his junior)—the lovely, fresh faced young girl who became Mrs Kapoor and shifted sans fuss to Mumbai—obviously took her cues from her husband, and maintained a low profile, while adjusting to life in a manic metro. Soon, they had a gorgeous little girl, followed by a baby boy. Through all these personal developments, Shahid continued to make his mark in films. Some worked, some did not. It was when his latest Kabir Singh (a remake of Telugu hit Arjun Reddy) created a national debate on misogyny, that Shahid attracted a fresh round of attention. After a controversial start, the film has crossed the magic Rs100 crore box office mark, and it is safe to conclude that Shahid will be in the running for top acting awards in 2019.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I refused to watch the film after reading about its content. But I figured it was my prerogative. When I tweeted my view, it led to an avalanche of mixed comments.This column is not about the movie or Shahid’s character in the film. It is about Shahid. And what I have observed over the years. Shahid’s father, Pankaj Kapoor, is a contemporary. He is one of our most talented actors (watch him in Maqbool—brilliant!). He is also an admirably low-key person; you would not recognise him if he were seated across the aisle from you on a flight! As I did not. All I noticed was a loving grandpa, keeping an eye on a gorgeous, restless granddaughter, who was running up and down the aisle, happily engaging with strangers. It was only after a few passengers started clicking the kid, that I discovered her parents! There they were—Shahid and Mira, just another young and good looking couple, returning to Mumbai from Chandigarh, after visiting Mira’s family. No bodyguards. No entourage. No fuss. No uniformed nanny. Just a regular ‘didi’ seated a row behind them. How refreshing! Shahid leaned across the aisle and offered me home-cooked aloo parathas, neatly wrapped in foil. We got chatting. And the time just flew by as both he and Mira spoke animatedly about their lives and the choices they jointly made. I could have been talking to any successful couple, making plans for the future. She mentioned they were planning an addition to the family—it was stated most naturally. He talked about his role in Padmaavat and his forthcoming projects. We also gossiped (a little!) and laughed at the ludicrousness of showbiz. Unlike a lot of Bollywood stars whose eyes glaze over the minute the topic shifts from them and their amazing selves, Shahid talked about so many developments—in the business and political spheres. Both of them were engaged and engaging, which again, came as a delightful revelation. Movie stars across the world are nauseatingly narcissistic. Their world view begins and ends with their latest triumphs.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The Kapoors behave like regular folks, because that is how they have been raised. I recalled spending a few days at Ananda In The Himalayas, and noticing a cute, young boy on the premises, whose head was always inside a big, fat book, even during meals! He was polite and courteous with waiting staff, but preferred to be left alone. It was on my last day there that I was told it was Shahid’s half-brother Ishaan Khattar, who had just made a terrific debut to great reviews in Beyond the Clouds.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/07/05/how-shahid-and-the-other-kapoors-are-refreshingly-regular.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/07/05/how-shahid-and-the-other-kapoors-are-refreshingly-regular.html Sat Jul 06 10:19:05 IST 2019 girish-karnad-and-the-power-of-modesty <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/06/21/girish-karnad-and-the-power-of-modesty.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/6/21/110-Girish-and-the-power-of-modesty-new.jpg" /> <p>I had a massive crush on Girish Karnad for decades. If that sounds schoolgirlish and superficial, it is fine. It is the truth. I am sure there are countless other men and women who felt the same way about Girish. When he played Smita Patil’s uncaring, unfaithful husband in Umbartha (1982), a marvellous Marathi film, I waited breathlessly for him to be back on screen, even though the film centred around the effortlessly brilliant Smita. Girish’s role was not as well-written, and he certainly did not walk away with the best reviews. But that hardly mattered to diehard fans like me. He often repeated his reason for working in films: screen roles paid his bills. He made enough money from movies to fund his plays, his real passion projects.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>There is much to learn from people like Girish, who seemed immune to the labels thrust on him. From being called a modern-day Socrates to an “urban Naxal”, he took it all in his stride. As a literary genius, rooted in Kannada culture, the other Girish—suave, urbane, sipping a drink and enjoying great food at soirees—was equally at home in glitzy settings. Unshaken and far from apologetic when faced with controversies, like his takedown of V.S. Naipaul during a lit fest in Mumbai or his opinion (mangled by careless mediawalas) on Rabindranath Tagore’s plays, Karnad stuck to his guns. This remarkable honesty of opinion and the strength of his convictions set Girish apart from the herd of politically nervous, self-declared intellectuals.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The last time I saw Girish was at a lit fest in Bengaluru a few months ago. He was wheelchair bound and half his size. He had tubes in his nose and an oxygen pack. He showed no trace of self-consciousness, as visitors gaped and whispered. It was obvious he was gravelly ill. As a lifelong fangirl, I rushed across to greet him. He looked up and smiled benignly. My heart skipped a beat as my eyes briefly met his. Those eyes! Like melting caramel! I went back to my table with a sinking feeling. I knew I may never see him again.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>A year or two earlier, we had shared the stage at yet another literary event. I remember marvelling at his equilibrium and dignity when a brash, uncouth ‘writer’ hijacked the inaugural ceremony, ignoring the stalwarts onstage and brazenly plugged his new book to the young crowd. It was obvious those readers had little knowledge of the chief guest’s vast body of work. For them, Girish Karnad was possibly just another senior writer representing a bygone era. Despite the younger author’s crudeness, Girish did not flinch or show the slightest annoyance. He carried on with his enthralling keynote address, sprinkled with sharp political commentary and criticism of the government’s policies. I was disappointed by the indifferent applause at the end of his address. It was another poor reflection of this TikTok generation’s reading habits. The loss was entirely theirs.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Much has been written by Girish’s contemporaries, who had been lucky enough to know the man who wrote brilliantly, thought brilliantly and lived brilliantly. The man who made early choices that shaped his future in significant ways. The Rhodes scholar who loved Hindustani music and the powerful playwright who straddled many worlds simultaneously. A colossus who wanted to slip away minus the fuss. Girish had instructed his family to decline a state funeral and to avoid any pomp and show when the end came. This is called class and good breeding. Girish Karnad’s contribution to our understanding of ourselves will remain through his incredible thoughts and words. As for me, it is that voice and those eyes that I will always recall, each time one of his plays is staged.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/06/21/girish-karnad-and-the-power-of-modesty.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/06/21/girish-karnad-and-the-power-of-modesty.html Sat Jun 22 17:41:58 IST 2019 our-man-in-washington <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/06/07/our-man-in-washington.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/6/7/168-Our-man-in-Washington-new.jpg" /> <p>When my husband and I met Harsh Vardhan Shringla, the youngest Indian ambassador to the United States of America, he was, at the time, the youngest Indian ambassador to Thailand! We hit it off instantly! It was a delightful experience spending time with him and his wife Hemal, at their tastefully done up residence in Bangkok. What struck me about him was his innate grace and humility—nothing put on, nothing fake. He was natural, likeable and relaxed, as he chatted with our small group on a muggy evening in the capital of Thailand. The other guests were local VIPs and celebrities, and a few prominent Bangkok-based Indian businessmen. I was also introduced to the then King’s sister, and to a petite Thai princess named Priyanandana, who was once married to Maharani Gayatri Devi’s son Jagat. Gosh! What a small world!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Once I discovered Harsh was a Mayo College boy, who later went to St. Stephen’s in Delhi, several connections popped up spontaneously, and as the evening progressed, over excellent khaana peena, a grand evening was had by all. We also spent time on a well-organised evening river cruise, during which Harsh chatted informally and easily with everybody. I have interacted with many other Indian ambassadors over the years, but never with one who displayed such refinement and intellectual sophistication. Hemal, his artistic wife, was equally chilled out. I have met a few exceedingly snooty wives of Indian ambassadors, who behave like empresses with embassy staff, and treat guests with barely disguised condescension. As a couple, both of them were refreshingly ‘normal’, given his impressive credentials. Harsh speaks French, Vietnamese, Nepalese, English and several Indian languages. The soft-spoken boy from Darjeeling is a foodie and has a great eye for art. With his interesting postings (Israel, Bangladesh), he has a repertoire of stories and observations that provide fascinating insights into his busy, rich life.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>On New Year’s Day this year, Harsh (IFS batch of 1984), presented his credentials to the President Donald Trump. Perhaps for the first time, one of our ambassadors indulged himself on this momentous occasion. Harsh not just shot a video of the short and picturesque ride up the drive-away to the White House, where a ceremonial welcome and guard of honour awaited him, but also posted it on Facebook. It was a charming clip from inside his car, and he frequently zoomed in on the Indian tricolour fluttering on the bonnet. For some reason, I found the whole thing deeply moving and got goosebumps, as I watched the final shot which showed our dapper ambassador emerging from the car, and being smartly saluted by White House staffers before stepping inside the imposing doors of the most famous living quarters on earth. He was off to an auspicious start!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>With Narendra Modi back as prime minister, Harsh will be focusing on consolidating the even closer ties that both nations clearly want to cement going forward. So far, Modi has not been as visibly effusive and demonstrative with Trump as he was with Trump’s predecessor Barack Obama. Harsh being a low key, discreet diplomat, will work quietly and efficiently behind the scenes to ensure various fresh initiatives are green lighted soon.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>As for me, I don’t have immediate plans to visit the US, but, honestly speaking, I am tempted to do so, for one reason alone: my affection for this elegant and compassionate man, whose intellect is formidable enough for him not to show it off. That sort of showing off is best left to amateurs! Shringla is a class act. India’s relations with the US are in his safe hands.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/06/07/our-man-in-washington.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/06/07/our-man-in-washington.html Fri Jun 07 11:45:42 IST 2019 ruchir-sharma-tripping-on-indian-elections <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/05/25/ruchir-sharma-tripping-on-indian-elections.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/5/25/62-Ruchir-Sharma-new.jpg" /> <p>Here’s a quick recap for readers who may not be familiar with Ruchir Sharma’s byline and books. A highly successful New York-based investment banker, Ruchir runs a $20 billion-plus fund (Morgan Stanley), but his heart goes dhak-dhak for the country of his birth. For the past 25 of his 45 years, he has made it his mission to track the chaotic, dramatic but totally spellbinding process of the Indian elections. His latest book, Democracy On The Road, chronicles in marvellous detail all that was observed and experienced by his 20 high-powered fellow travellers as they trundled through the land, meeting farmers and leaders, eccentrics and godmen. This was Ruchir’s 28th road trip with more or less the same group that has stuck it out in conditions that are anything but luxurious at times. Never mind that the group has been dubbed the ‘Limousine Liberals’ by critics!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>During his book tour in India, one of his pit stops was Mumbai, where Anil Dharker, founder of Literature Live, had organised an ‘In Conversation’ between Ruchir and myself. I had about a zillion questions for the articulate author, having devoured his page-turner of a tome in one go. I told him the book read like a thriller. Has he already pitched it as a web series to Amazon Prime? Netflix? Ruchir blushed a little, but avoided a straight ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. He preferred to stick to his script and take the audience through his sharp and acute political comments in the book. Despite sensing his reluctance, I stubbornly soldiered on, hoping to crack Ruchir’s resistance to take our talk outside his book.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Given his high intelligence and easy charm, Ruchir, who is a sprinter, and a film and wildlife buff, has a fascinating ‘back story’. Babuji, his maternal grandfather, was a famous defence criminal lawyer and landlord in Bijnor. The book begins with an insightful family history, which explains Ruchir’s deep and abiding interest in India and its political landscape. Ruchir attended his first political rally at age five, when Indira Gandhi came campaigning to Bijnor, attracting thousands of folks. Ruchir says he has noticed that many a time villagers flock to these rallies only to gawk at a helicopter landing! It holds true even today.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Well, that Boy from Bijnor is now on the world stage, with a column in The New York Times and international publishers clamouring to grab his next title. Ruchir writes that he likes the “family feel” of desi politics, and is always overwhelmed by the warmth and hospitality of strangers as they host lavish feasts for his caravan during their halts. I wonder if those same strangers would extend this generosity to a band of non-entities; Ruchir’s group has well-known personalities like Prannoy Roy. Ruchir, who features on important lists like ‘Top 100 Global Thinkers’, is modest and low-key, besides being a great listener. He doesn’t miss a trick, which I noticed at the small dinner we hosted at our home for him after the event. He was attentive and keen to converse with all the guests, often bending low so as not to miss a line or a word. These traits are incredibly valuable while maintaining detailed notes on road trips. His encounters with Mayawati, ‘Captain’ Vijayakanth, Sonia Gandhi, Vasundhara Raje and other colourful characters make the complex political process and crazy local dynamics come vividly alive. His cross references to history also add the much-needed perspective to contemporary socio-economic-political-cultural-religious developments over the past 72 years of India’s independence. The book ends on an upbeat note: “.... in an era when democracy is said to be in retreat worldwide, it is thriving in India.”</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Thank you for your optimism, Ruchir Sharma. I can only wistfully add: I wish!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/05/25/ruchir-sharma-tripping-on-indian-elections.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/05/25/ruchir-sharma-tripping-on-indian-elections.html Sat May 25 12:19:48 IST 2019 didi-is-namo-in-drag <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/05/10/didi-is-namo-in-drag.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/5/10/31-Didi-is-NaMo-in-drag-new.jpg" /> <p>She is something else, our Mamata Banerjee—the woman who would be prime minister. What is the first word that comes to voters’ minds when one says ‘West Bengal’? Violence! And, violence it was that disrupted the fifth phase of the ongoing Lok Sabha elections when seven of the state’s 42 seats with 83 candidates and 1.17 crore voters went to the polls. Despite the heat, the state saw a 74.42 per cent turnout, which is far better than Maharashtra’s 57.32 per cent. High drama was expected in Didi’s state, and high drama is what we saw, complete with booth capturing and skirmishes galore. Cadres of her party—the Trinamool Congress—are known for their aggression, and anybody who has encountered members of Didi’s squad in Kolkata will uneasily narrate the ordeal of having to deal with them. This is what’s called ‘Didi Style’. Nobody wants to mess with the fierce chief minister of West Bengal—the woman who seems confident of displacing Narendra Modi as prime minister. God help us all if such a calamity does indeed take place. For, Mamata is Modi’s alter ego. NaMo in drag!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>What astonishes me (being an honorary Bong through marriage) is how meekly Kolkata’s boxwallas have surrendered to Didi’s diktats. Those stuffed shirts and starched tangails are not known to put up with bullying. But such is Didi’s control, nobody dares to utter her name in vain. Didi has effectively silenced and browbeaten any opposition to her policies—jailing critics and journalists, and making it abundantly clear that she will hit back at anybody who refuses to toe her line. Compared to Didi, even a woman as ferocious as Mayawati appears mild-mannered and likeable. That’s saying a lot!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Whatever happens on May 23, the red-letter day when citizens will know the poll results, one thing is for sure: both these ladies will play a pivotal role in India’s future. I have no problem with assertive women, but I do have a problem with bullies, men or women. Mayawati and Mamata are bullies of the worst kind. Had Mamata established her credentials as an able administrator and attracted investment to her state, her bullying would have been viewed differently. But apart from cosmetic changes in Kolkata and a much-needed cleanup drive, Mamata hasn’t exactly covered herself in glory. The bhadralok shudder at the prospect of being in the same room as Didi. She, in turn, has utmost contempt for the decadent, over-privileged snobs who look down on the unwashed masses, preferring to stick to their own. Today, the snobs are pushed to the edge of society by the brash new breed surrounding Mamata.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I had spent an entire day with Didi while she campaigned in and around Kolkata. That was a long time ago. My experience back then had been pretty positive! I was told to sit in the backseat with her loyal supporter, while she sat next to the driver of her Omni, talking nonstop in her, by now familiar, high-pitched voice. She struck me as being a woman on a mission, with a one-point programme—herself! She was out to win, at whatever cost. Nothing wrong with that! Which politician jumps into politics to lose? Mamata was a woman possessed. And that’s how she remains. I thoroughly enjoyed watching her work the crowds, as we drove through lush, green hamlets, with bedraggled villagers cheering her. She spoke at me, not to me, rarely bothering with eye contact. A couple of times, she insisted on my being on a makeshift stage with her, as she harangued the motley bunch of sweaty volunteers to gather bigger crowds at the next stop.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Mamata is not a kingmaker; she is the king! If any ally is harbouring illusions of getting her support to form the next government without Didi extracting several pounds of flesh, forget it. The only way is her way, or the highway. I am looking forward to the fireworks!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/05/10/didi-is-namo-in-drag.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/05/10/didi-is-namo-in-drag.html Fri May 10 13:11:22 IST 2019 rajeev-sethi-master-of-all-trades <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/04/26/rajeev-sethi-master-of-all-trades.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/4/26/70-Sethi-own-Jiyo-new.jpg" /> <p>I cannot be objective about Rajeev Sethi. I became his admirer over 40 years ago, and I am proud to be his friend. People describe him as a visionary. I see him as a philosopher. Rajeev will chuckle when he reads this. But any person who has the innate capacity to transform lives like he does, is not a mere scenographer, revivalist or crafts king.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Talk to the weavers and artisans who are part of Jiyo and you will understand Rajeev’s deep and abiding commitment to keeping our traditional skills alive—not by showcasing them in museums, but by finding markets for the products. These are true repositories of our heritage and traditions. Rajeev has extended their life lines, by providing a valuable framework through Jiyo. Rajeev emphatically repeats, “Jiyo belongs to a million hands.” It does. Every craftsperson is a stakeholder. Profits from the sale of their products go directly to the person. Rajeev and his dedicated team are key facilitators who identify skills, provide funds and encourage craft communities to give a contemporary twist to their work. It is this twist that is changing the commercial future of people who had all but given up on their ancient knowledge base (from basketry to herbal medicines) and switched to city jobs that had nothing to do with their precious legacy.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Jiyo was registered ten years ago. But Rajeev himself has been on this path for four decades. I remember many visits to his tiny office/studio in New Delhi years ago, and meeting the most extraordinary people in the course of&nbsp; long afternoons. They would drift in and make themselves right at home—jugglers, acrobats, balladeers—while Rajeev divided his time and attention between visiting ambassadors, international designers, and global celebrities. His world embraced everybody! And what a rich world it was—and still remains.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Decorated by the German and French governments, Padma Vibhushan Rajeev Sethi is extraordinary and unique. The early Festivals of India, staged in America and France, provided a glimpse into what was achievable if the right platforms were provided. More recently, his incredible feat in creating all the massive artworks inside Mumbai’s iconic T2 air terminal has been widely appreciated.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;Despite all his stupendous successes, Rajeev’s current dream remains incomplete. Jiyo is one accomplishment that requires a massive amount of engagement in order for it to grow. When Jiyo came to Mumbai, the response was tremendous and the craftspeople who participated went back with their pockets full and many orders to take forward. This edition featured skilled crafts communities from 22 districts representing the Red Corridor. Rajeev has meticulously mapped similar communities in over 600 districts across India.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>A weaver spoke feelingly about his experience and described Rajeev as the rain that fell on his parched land and gave birth to a large, fruit-bearing tree that sheltered so many under its shade. Throughout these heartfelt tributes, Rajeev stayed in the background, making sure to call a shy person by name, urging him or her to share their beautiful creations on stage, in the presence of a very high-profile, informed and supportive audience. It was a pleasure to hear Jaya Bachchan interviewing a Jiyo member.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The message is clear: We must never forget the hands, eyes, hearts and minds that narrate our stories and proudly share them through their exquisite creations. While chatting with Rajeev’s team, my own sensibilities were further sharpened. Ever since then, each time I drape a sari, I silently thank the weaver behind it and seek a blessing for those magic hands. May they grow stronger and stronger with each passing season.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/04/26/rajeev-sethi-master-of-all-trades.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/04/26/rajeev-sethi-master-of-all-trades.html Sat Apr 27 17:28:44 IST 2019 what-makes-sabyasachi-sabyasachi <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/04/12/what-makes-sabyasachi-sabyasachi.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/4/12/94-Sabyasachi-Mukherjee-new.jpg" /> <p>The year was 2000. A new millennium with immense possibilities and promises was upon us. There was palpable excitement in the air. And, it was evident at a bridal fashion show being held in South Mumbai. In the clutter of glitter and tinsel, designer after designer had presented over-dressed desi brides, complete with ornately embroidered lehengas, fussy dupattas and enough jewellery to weigh down a Christmas tree. My eyes glazed over after a point—there was nothing new or original on the ramp that night. Till, an unknown designer’s name was announced. I idly looked up as this person’s bride walked out. And, boom! I was fully awake, and impressed. Why? Because I had never seen any bride dressed like a librarian! The bride wore nerdy chashmas and was carrying a pile of books in her arms. Her make-up was messy; her hair in braids and her feet shod in sensible walking shoes! Where did this incredible bride come from? She had popped out of Sabyasachi Mukherjee’s cerebral head! He was a fresh National Institute of Fashion Technology graduate, taking baby steps into the big, bad world of fashion. And, he was doing it his way! I loved his iconoclastic vision—it was Sonagachi meeting the Sorbonne.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Sabya has steadily created an impressive fashion empire, starting modestly with a single store and growing into India’s most successful fashion brand. Celebrating two decades of Sabyasachi recently was a must-do event for all those connected to fashion in India and overseas, some of whom had flown in especially for the event. Sabya collaborated with his friend Christian Louboutin to showcase a breakthrough collection of leisure wear that had admirers gasping. I gasped, too. I had moved away from the typical ‘Sabya’ look for a while, and had not fallen in love with any collection in the same way I had in 2000. His ginormous success with fashionistas in Bollywood—he designed for Anushka-Virat’s and Deepika-Ranveer’s weddings—had led to an entire ‘fake Sabya’ industry, selling cheap knockoffs.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Driving home from the latest show with my daughter and son-in-law (diehard Sabya fans), I marvelled at the designer’s success story and astute money sense. Sabya has redefined the business model of pricy designer wear in India, by scaling it up sensibly and charging an arm and a leg for bridal wear. For a certain segment of our society, being described as a ‘Sabya bride’ remains the single most coveted compliment! So, how did Sabya do it? He is unafraid to buck the system. Period. Combine that with originality, and you get a brand that has the potential of going global. Sabya works like a beast, putting in crazy hours and supervising the smallest aspects of the business. He is fortunate to have terrific family support, with most family members involved with the label. His ambition dictates his craft. He says he is looking at the next quantum leap that will propel his company to a Rs 2,000 crore turnover! He will be launching a fragrance soon. And, his magnificent jewellery is already being showcased on India’s richest and most influential buyers.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Being Sabya is definitely not as effortless as it looks. I recall meeting him at Deepika Padukone’s mental health initiative a couple of years ago, where he spoke feelingly about his own struggle with depression. We all have our demons. Sabya is bravely battling his. I always enjoy our brief encounters—I guess it has a lot to do with our shared Bong connections. Watching Sabya take a bow with Louboutin at the grand finale, I recalled his first ramp appearance that had left several fashion watchers bewildered. Today, they are among his most ardent admirers. I await the opening of his grander than grand mega store in Mumbai, which one hears will recreate the majesty of Kolkata in all its vintage glory. What if Mamata Banerjee, dressed by Sabya, inaugurates it? That will be the day!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/04/12/what-makes-sabyasachi-sabyasachi.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/04/12/what-makes-sabyasachi-sabyasachi.html Sat Apr 13 21:07:45 IST 2019 keiko-hagihara-bang-arrives-in-india-with-a-bang <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/29/keiko-hagihara-bang-arrives-in-india-with-a-bang.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/3/29/62-Keiko-Hagihara-Bang-new.jpg" /> <p>Keiko Hagihara Bang is a magnetic force of creative energy. She is a Singapore-based ‘immersive media expert’, frequently described as a visionary and futurist. But, to me, she is simply ‘Keiko’, a wonderful friend I made more than a decade ago. She was then producer-director of a promotional film made by Singapore Tourism, especially for desi visitors who had started to flock to the island country in large numbers. I was the chosen one! It was the Singapore experience seen through my eyes. I remember meeting Keiko for a briefing before the shoot and being most impressed by her dynamism and efficiency. I thoroughly enjoyed my shoot with her team.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>We lost touch a little after that, till I received her jaunty email informing me of her arrival in Mumbai. We promptly set up a date to meet at my home. Keiko was in Mumbai to promote all things Korean, from K-Pop, movies, TV series to lifestyle products. How come? Well, Keiko’s husband heads an international bank in Korea, and she shuttles between her offices in Singapore and Seoul. Keiko is half-Japanese (father) and half-American. Since we met, she has produced more than 50 films and many more documentaries. She has been a reporter for CNN, NHK and CNBC, and broken great stories, besides getting involved with a UNESCO project—Beautiful Minds—that helps girls get a better life through education. And, these are just some of the things Keiko has been up to!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>She arrives dressed in chic black, wearing dramatic architectural silver jewellery. Keiko is on a high! She has just concluded a mega deal with a local television partner and will soon be announcing an ambitious programme, involving a festival of Korean films. She will also be back with one of the most popular K-Pop groups, starting with a concert in Mumbai and then in Chennai. “Everyone expected us to pencil in Nagaland for the first concert,” she says, laughing. “K-Pop has a huge fanbase in the northeast. But, our research showed a great deal of enthusiasm from young people in Chennai and Kolkata, too.”</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Keiko has studied fandom across cultures closely, as is evident in movies like Hip Korea: Seoul Vibes and documentaries on icons like Jackie Chan. She can roll out data about cross-cultural music influencers like the phenomenally popular singer of ‘Gangnam Style’. She says she is focusing on ‘technology-led storytelling’, which is the future of entertainment. Her knowledge and understanding of the various mediums and platforms available today is so vast that at the end of an hour my head was reeling! Vibrant, articulate and attractive, Keiko is on a mission to break boundaries by exposing the young to what is going on in other countries. She was so impressed with Gully Boy that she wants to take it to Japan and Korea.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I offered her snacks like Gujarati dhokla, Bengali sandesh and Kerela tapioca chips. She couldn’t get enough of them! An adventurous palate is the other thing we share. As Keiko reeled off statistics, she talked about how terrifically well Prime Minister Narendra Modi and South Korean President Moon Jae-in hit it off, paving the way for significant commercial and artistic exchanges.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Her deep understanding of fandom is what intrigued me the most. She has spent long hours tracking the influence of K-Pop over fans who do not understand Korean lyrics, but are hooked! When the first K-Pop group to perform overseas went to Peru, the members were stunned to see 10,000 fans at the hotel. She expects the same to happen when K-Pop comes to India. I am sure she is right when she predicts mega success for the various artistes she will be lining up in the coming months. She is also pushing Korean corporations to participate in expos to further business interests that will be a win-win for both countries. Keiko certainly has arrived in India with a Bang!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b><a href="http://www.shobaade.blogspot.com/">www.shobaade.blogspot.com</a></b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/29/keiko-hagihara-bang-arrives-in-india-with-a-bang.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/29/keiko-hagihara-bang-arrives-in-india-with-a-bang.html Sat Mar 30 16:30:38 IST 2019 the-smile-thats-sonali <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/15/the-smile-thats-sonali.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/3/15/78-Sonali-Bendre-new.jpg" /> <p>I first met Sonali Bendre when she was a fresh faced, lissome ‘next-big-thing’ in Bollywood. We connected immediately. It was such a relief being able to converse with someone in Marathi! Sonali fit into the category of a ‘Maharashtrian beauty’. It was a description I had heard my father use for young ladies who exuded a specific sort of allure—natural, un-self-conscious, and fine-featured. Sonali was all that and more. She was exuberant without being fake, and her laughter sounded genuine. Over the years, we would meet at functions big and small… and chat animatedly. Along the way, Sonali married Goldie Behl, a good-natured, loving filmmaker. Soon, a son was born. Her career took a backseat as she focused on her family and began to explore other areas of her life. She was seen as a judge on reality shows, fabulously presented in stylish gowns, her make-up impeccable, her mannerisms friendly, but not over familiar. Her followers and fans supported all her ventures, as Sonali launched a popular digital book club in 2017. It was a great platform, and Sonali made the most of it, sharing her views on new books, recommending new titles and staying engaged with the audience at all times.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>And then… boom!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Last July, Sonali announced something that shook up her world. And ours. “Life throws you a curve ball when you least expect it…” read her post. Sonali had been detected with high grade metastatic cancer. Her chances for survival were a low 30 per cent. It was hard to believe that a beautiful, young woman with so much ahead of her was struck down by the dreaded Big C. What did Sonali do next? She decided that she was going to face her challenge with a smile and share the experience with her followers without camouflaging anything. She declared bravely, “I am taking the battle head on…” It was a brave and wise decision. We were ‘with her’ in spirit all the way…. while her close-knit coterie of friends made frequent trips to New York to bolster her spirits and show their love for her. Through the ordeal, it was Sonali making light of it and displaying candid pictures that documented every major step—like the time she had to chop off her lustrous hair and go bald during her chemotherapy treatment. Not only did she post pictures of herself getting tonsured, but also asked her fans for advice while selecting suitable wigs.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Sonali is back in Mumbai. And I met her at the recent Akash Ambani wedding. She was looking resplendent in a heavily embroidered, burgundy designer outfit. Her open trademark smile was as charming as before. She was being warmly greeted by old friends and complete strangers, as she stood with a beaming Goldie, graciously accepting the compliments and attention. She currently wears her hair in a stylish short crop which suits her face. I asked her about her immediate plans and she said she was staying put in Mumbai, not rushing to New York. We agreed some of the best oncologists in the world are right here in India.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Sonali is in good hands. And may she go from strength to strength—our precious New Year baby (her birthday falls on January 1). Perhaps, without her realising it, she has touched millions of lives. It is her positive take on coping—not just with cancer, but all that goes with triumphing over it—that has made her a superhero. The picture she posted after she got dressed for the big Ambani wedding sums up her ‘never say die’ attitude. Sonali captioned her post jauntily by stating, “It has been a while since I got out of my track pants…” Well, my dear, whether clad in casual tracks or in dazzling designer gear, it is your radiance that lights up the space you occupy and all of us are more than happy to bask in its after-glow.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/15/the-smile-thats-sonali.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/15/the-smile-thats-sonali.html Fri Mar 15 11:27:45 IST 2019 in-bold-print <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/02/in-bold-print.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/3/2/62-In-bold-print-new.jpg" /> <p>Shashi Deshpande is a petite force of nature—spry, sure, sharp and so contained. Ramrod straight and soft-spoken, Shashi exudes an unambiguous no-nonsense attitude that makes it obvious she will not tolerate fools or entertain sycophants. We shared a stage at the recently concluded Times Lit Fest in Bengaluru, along with the intellectually formidable Nayantara Sahgal. Our combined ages that evening worked out to 243 years, with a decade separating me from Shashi, 81, and another separating Shashi from Nayantara, 91. Our given topic—The Originals—was perplexing. And, the brief asked us to question #feminism. Our packed session got off to a lively start, with Shashi admitting she often asked her grandson to help her out with social media trends. But, once both these feisty ladies got talking, there was just no stopping their flow. Both of them have seen more life than most people in the audience. But, here they are looking ahead, not back. There is much to say, and they are doing just that, fearlessly and eloquently.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Both have new books flying off the shelves. Shashi’s is a memoir—Listen to Me—which elaborates her experiences as a writer. I recalled her quote: “There has never been a shortage of males criticising women’s writing.’’ Oh yes, dearest Shashi. Don’t we all know it! I had also read Salman Rushdie’s nasty piece on her, written in retaliation because she had not thought his The Ground Beneath Her Feet worthy enough of an award (she was a jury member). Her memoir lucidly traces her literary path, strewn with multiple recognitions and awards (Padma Shri, Sahitya Akademi award). She talks about her annoyance at being slotted as “a woman writer who wrote about women’’. There are equally telling anecdotes revolving around Shashi having to deal with the usual rubbish of belonging to an “exclusive ladies’ club” filled with “women who wrote in their free time”.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>While Shashi did resign from the Akademi to register her protest after the killing of Gauri Lankesh, she, unlike Nayantara, did not return any award or honour. Both writers spoke passionately about their concerns, given the present environment targeting writers, thinkers, poets, artists and filmmakers. While Nayantara is far more forthcoming in her strident criticism, Shashi, in her firm and forceful way, makes her political stand very clear, arguing that there is no area of life that is free of the political, starting with family. However, it is the essential lives of women that preoccupy her as a writer. Shashi’s hero, quite obviously, seems to be her writer father, a prominent Sanskrit scholar. I was privileged to meet her doctor husband in the author’s lounge, and briefly observe their easy camaraderie. Despite a programming glitch that had scheduled Shashi for two parallel sessions, she remained calm and accommodating. Nayantara and I were happy to wait for her to finish the other session and join us. Shashi doesn’t mince words when asked a question. She adjusts her prominent mangalsutra, fiddles with the pallu of her traditional sari, runs her fingers through her short cropped salt-and-pepper hair and says it like it is. Shashi wears her brilliance and position a bit too lightly, methinks.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Nayantara’s latest novella, The Fate of Butterflies, is a hard look at the brutality endured by victims of gang rape. Nayantara lives alone, travels alone, asks for no preferential treatment, and waves away any extra solicitous offers of help with a delicate wave of manicured fingers as she soldiers on. These are lonely battles fought by warriors like the two exceptional women. They do not need to be patronised, certainly not by men or the establishment. They need to be listened to. Shashi and Nayantara, we are listening. Very, very keenly.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/02/in-bold-print.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/03/02/in-bold-print.html Sat Mar 02 11:46:07 IST 2019 meeting-chitras-sita <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/02/16/meeting-chitras-sita.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/2/16/70-Meeting-Chitras-Sita-new.jpg" /> <p>The session at the Jaipur Lit Fest 2019 that I was most looking forward to was my interaction with Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni at the launch of her latest book, The Forest of Enchantments. I have, for long, admired her scholarship and eloquence. When I received the advance copy, I noted the dedication: To my three men—Murthy, Anand and Abhay... for teaching me love. I started reading the book, intrigued by those lines. It had never occurred to me that love could be ‘taught’. I had always believed that love has to be felt. Instinctively. There was clearly a lot to learn from this erudite lady (PhD in English, Berkeley) who teaches creative writing at the University of Houston. I met her husband for a few minutes before our session, and was moved by his total, undisguised involvement and pride in his wife. She, in turn, was attentive and loving towards one of the three men who taught her love—Murthy.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Her adoring fans greeted her arrival on stage with a loud applause. Chitra is used to it. Ten years after The Palace of Illusions became a bestseller, she was ready with another captivating tale. After Draupadi, it was Sita’s turn for a literary interpretation. Chitra’s first person narrative takes a while to get used to. The conversational passages in which Sita, one of India’s most revered mythological characters, chats with her husband Ram, using contemporary idioms, can lead to a severe disconnect, as it did for me. But, after the first 20 pages, I was riveted. I could ‘hear’ Sita’s voice as she moved seamlessly from being a spirited and beautiful princess of Mithila to assuming responsibility as Ram’s dutiful wife and queen of Ayodhya, who joined her husband and brother-in-law Laxman during their 14-year exile in the forest.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The forest is as much a star here as Sita, and yes, it is filled with enchantments. Chitra’s descriptive prose about Sita getting accustomed to her new life, communing easily with birds and animals, in a magical, intuitive manner, draws readers into her many dilemmas and disappointments. As Chitra read out a few passages, her rapt audience gobbled up each line and word. The questions that followed were informed and fascinating. She dealt with them like a competent teacher, perhaps anticipating a few of the more obvious ones and nimbly dodging the more politically loaded queries.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Dressed in a black silk sari, Chitra cut a striking figure, delving confidently into the ‘Sita syndrome’ (my words, not hers) and the final act of hers (returning to Mother Earth voluntarily, instead of facing one more agni pariksha [trial by fire]). The Ramayan has been a source of much debate and discussion in recent times, especially Sita’s complex decisions. Chitra has invested years of deep study, researching and discovering ‘her’ Sita. She referred to Sita’s dilemma as a #MeToo moment, given its boldness. The readers responded enthusiastically to the clever analogy, and related to the many sexist issues in the telling of Sita’s story. Chitra considers the Ramayan “one of the greatest and most tragic love stories—not just in our Indian culture but in the world”.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>In my reading of the book, I had felt that Chitra’s representation of Ravana was most intriguing. I asked if Sita was indeed attracted to his virile personality and extensive learning. Chitra did not fall for it and deftly deflected the question. Given the dramatic twist at the end of her narrative, I guess that was the smarter route to take. Chitra ends the story on a poetic, philosophical note, with Sita forgiving Ram and reminding him that love “doesn’t measure who is worthy and who is not. It is like the ocean. Unfathomable. Astonishing. Measureless.’’ Who can disagree?</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/02/16/meeting-chitras-sita.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/02/16/meeting-chitras-sita.html Sat Feb 16 10:59:59 IST 2019 at-home-in-health-care <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/30/at-home-in-health-care.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/1/30/50-At-home-in-health-care-new.jpg" /> <p>Recently, I received an invitation to an event titled, ‘A Decade of Distinction’. It was from Tina Ambani, and the chief guest was their close family friend, Amitabh Bachchan. Initially, I was a little confused—I thought it was to felicitate Mr Bachchan. But then it would have read five decades of distinction! Tina phoned soon after and we chatted about this particular landmark celebration, which marked ten years of the Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital—a passion project for Tina. What an achievement! I recalled attending its grand opening and wishing her all success at the time. From the word go, it was evident just how committed and involved Tina was in ensuring world-class facilities for patients. I walked around with her, a team of doctors accompanying us from floor to floor and explaining the vision behind this ambitious project. I saw Tina’s eyes gleaming with excitement as she described what had gone into creating this glittering, state-of-the-art hospital, aptly named after her mother-in-law—the matriarch of the Ambani family.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I could see Tina’s husband Anil beaming with pride as he talked about the hospital being Tina’s “third child”, as her two sons hugged their mother. Surrounded by her maternal family members and close friends, Tina herself was glowing and radiant, as she congratulated her motivated team.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I was surprised to note how well-versed Tina was with medical terminology, and how invested she was in every aspect of her dream project. She knew the nursing staff by name, and was aware of the latest technical breakthroughs internationally. This was not a rich businessman’s wife indulging herself with a vanity project. Oh no! Tina was the consummate corporate person—a hands-on leader, with a long-term view.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Well, that ‘view’ is here! And while Tina talked with justifiable confidence in the future, as her long-time friend, I felt a surge of proprietorial pride—after all, I had known Tina since she was 16 and one of the most popular movie stars in Bollywood. Watching her walking around the hospital, so assured and informed, I looked back at her incredible life—from a Munim to an Ambani—and smiled to myself. She is a woman who has done it her way. A woman who certainly knows her priorities. Tina and I reside within one kilometre of each other in South Mumbai. It takes up to three hours in hideous traffic to reach her hospital. Tina scrupulously makes that trip to and back at least three times a week. Well, her responsibilities have just trebled with the opening of three more cancer care hospitals in Maharashtra (Akola, Gondia and soon in Solapur). Taking health care to where it is most needed—the hinterland—is worthy of applause. Yes, given our dearth of good hospitals outside the cities, Tina’s plans are indeed filling a huge gap. At 60, Tina has found her métier—she will move ahead with determination and hard work, having created a vital niche for herself through a brand patients trust and professionals recognise. This is no small achievement! Let us watch how she takes her investment in first-class medical assistance forward in an even more detailed and focused way. As for me, I feel wonderful seeing how Tina has evolved over the years. She could so easily have been just another wealthy, bored and self-indulgent wife. Instead, she chose to be a leader in a tough, challenging field and is doing an excellent job.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/30/at-home-in-health-care.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/30/at-home-in-health-care.html Sat Feb 02 15:17:10 IST 2019 rip-meera-sanyal <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/18/rip-meera-sanyal.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/1/18/70-RIP-Meera-Sanyal-new.jpg" /> <p>Banker-turned-politician Meera Sanyal died recently at the age of 57 after battling cancer for two years. The extraordinary thing about Meera was her steadfastness in whatever she did. In 2014, she quit as the CEO and chairperson of the Royal Bank of Scotland to join the fledgling Aam Aadmi Party. While corporate honchos go on and on about being the change you want to see, not many give up a cushy position to pursue an ideal. Meera had the moral courage to do just that.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>She urged others from her background to join her, reminding them that if they wanted to clean the political system, they had to take the plunge themselves. Meera walked the talk. She did not preach from a pulpit, or make grand, pompous statements at seminars and conclaves. She simply wore her heart on her sleeve, pinned the party’s symbol—a broom—on her sari pallu, jauntily wore the ridiculous-looking AAP cap on her head and got to work.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Along with volunteers and her loving husband Ashish, Meera walked tirelessly through the South Mumbai constituency, understanding the problems faced by the people in the over-crowded slums that coexist cheek-by-jowl with some of the priciest high-rise apartments in India. She addressed countless meetings for members of posh building societies, urging them to get involved. While people listened to Meera attentively, they clearly did not vote for her. She got just 5.7 per cent of the votes. But she was not deterred in the least. That her mission was cruelly cut short by her cancer is another matter.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I had the privilege of knowing Meera through Manjeet Kripalani, a common friend who was her press secretary at the time. I jumped at the chance to participate in a walkabout with Meera and her band of loyal volunteers, as she went campaigning, clad in an elegant handloom sari, her radiant smile disguising her fatigue—a result of all those sleepless nights and other pressures. As we side-stepped garbage strewn in the narrow alleyways of the slums, I could sense the apathy of the voter towards this ‘fancy’ lady from the ‘other’ side of the social divide.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Later, while chatting casually, they asked me, “What can this memsaab know about our troubles? Has she ever starved? Gone without water in the taps? What can she give us?” Meera was too gentle and genteel to muscle her way into these over-crowded vote banks, accustomed to candidates walking around with stacks of notes to distribute to local bullies. One such man came up to me and said, “Tell this madam to come back with cash. Then we’ll talk.”</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>She smiled when I mentioned this. “Please tell him madam has no cash to distribute. But madam will work for them night and day, and make sure they get water and most importantly that every child goes to school.” This was not an empty promise. While she was at the bank, Meera mentored the microfinance programme which financed over 6,50,000 women in rural India. She also chaired the bank’s foundation, providing livelihood assistance to 75,000 women-led households. Over one million children worldwide benefitted through the Right to Play organisation she was an active member of.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Born in Kochi to a naval hero (Vice Admiral Gulab Mohanlal Hiranandani), Meera reached great academic heights (INSEAD and Harvard included) and had a very successful career in banking, which she quit to serve the people. Meera was the real thing. A compassionate and kind woman who believed in mentoring young people and imparting a valuable lesson: No hand-outs. Merit and hard work over charity and concessions. This is her legacy. She touched many, many lives. She deeply touched mine.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/18/rip-meera-sanyal.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/18/rip-meera-sanyal.html Fri Jan 18 12:11:42 IST 2019 ranveer-one-of-a-kind <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/04/ranveer-one-of-a-kind.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2019/1/4/62-Ranveer-Singh-new.jpg" /> <p>For sure, 2018 was the year of the wink. First it was Rahul Gandhi who teased and tantalised India with the sly, conspiratorial wink in Parliament. And to end this dramatic year on a high note, let us hand the wink-trophy to actor Ranveer Singh, whose chart-busting track, Aankh Maarey from Simmba, is playing in the most popular clubs worldwide. It is the perfect “wink-wink” song to launch 2019 in style. Happy new year, readers!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>As we speak, the newly-minted bridegroom is honeymooning with his beautiful bride at a secret destination. Ranveer-Deepika have kicked off 2019 on a jaunty note with the super success of Simmba, and the grand production that was their marriage. I ran into the couple soon after their shaadi, at the “other” wedding of the century. You know which one (wink-wink!).</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Ranveer resembled an ecstatic schoolboy who had just been declared the prom king. I asked them to pose for me and they sportingly obliged with Ranveer declaring, “Come on, we are actors. What do you want us to do?” Once I was done, I showed him the pictures and asked him to pick the one he liked. His response: “Pick the one in which she looks the best... and is laughing. I love her laugh.” My word, besotted! Over the moon… as if he cannot quite believe his good fortune in having bagged his co-star of super-hits like Ram-Leela, Bajirao Mastani and Padmaavat. Certainly, their chemistry on screen has always been unmissable. But I can recall so many occasions when I ran into them, with Ranveer being entirely natural and exuberant around his lady-love, frequently kissing her neck and hands, while Deepika displayed far more restraint.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Ranveer Singh’s career has been extraordinary, starting with his very first film in 2010 with Anushka Sharma (Band Baaja Baaraat). They were dating at the time, and I found myself seated right behind them on a flight to Bengaluru. His PDA, even then, was unabashed and spontaneous. Compared to the self-conscious, stiff posturing of his seniors, Ranveer comes across like an egoless, natural “everyman”. I have watched him greet pesky fans and interact with junior production chaps without ever making them feel like he was doing them a favour.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>With his crazy antics and crazier wardrobe, he is a compulsive attention-seeker, eager to please the audience. I find this a very endearing trait in a movie star of his status and calibre. He has the smarts, and is never at a loss for words. These are unrehearsed, unscripted exchanges, and they always come as a surprise. We expect our stars to be narcissistic. By contrast, Ranveer is sharp and well-informed. His native intelligence also shows through in his nuanced performances on screen. He can go from being a rough-and-tough street bully (Gunday) to a feared and respected peshwa (Bajirao Mastani).</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I would be most interested in seeing him portray Devdas. I feel Ranveer’s potential as an actor-of-depth remains untapped, and would provide rich raw material for a fresh take on the classic. His mind is an original, and with a smart, wealthy and talented woman by his side, Ranveer is poised to become one of the biggest superstars India has ever seen. As a couple, they engage with audiences most effortlessly. If they pick their movies well, they could join the ranks of Hollywood greats who created onscreen magic, and off-screen couple goals.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>As of now, all it took was a wink from Ranveer Singh playing a corrupt cop in Simmba to eat up the box-office at the end of a year that was pretty mixed for Bollywood. The three Khans need to worry.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/04/ranveer-one-of-a-kind.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2019/01/04/ranveer-one-of-a-kind.html Sat Jan 05 16:07:01 IST 2019 the-disruptor-whom-I-like <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/12/07/the-disruptor-whom-I-like.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/12/7/60-Rakhi-Sawant-new.jpg" /> <p>Forget the other two mega Bollywood weddings for now. Fans have finished OD-ing on those. Every tiny detail has been greedily devoured and regurgitated. There is collective shaadi-induced indigestion in India at present. But the forthcoming wedding of one of our most unusual women is bound to take social media by storm as and when it does take place (it is scheduled for December 31 in Los Angeles). For those who are wondering what makes Rakhi Sawant so unique, let me just say I have followed her eventful life for over a decade. I have yet to meet someone like her. She is so dramatically different from ‘normal’ folks, it makes me wonder: Is she plain insane… or super smart?</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The last time we ran into each other was at Kolkata airport where Rakhi had gone to collect her visa for America. She was busy posing for selfies with the security staff when she spotted me. We promptly hugged and kissed and started speaking excitedly in our native Marathi. On the long flight back to Mumbai, I caught up with the many bizarre developments in her crowded life. She showed me her Instagram posts with justifiable pride (507k followers at last count).</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Rakhi is indeed indefatigable, as she updates posts by the minute, sometimes making sense, but most times not. In her many outlandish get ups and even more outlandish utterances, she sends fans into an absolute tizzy, as she graphically demonstrated how to wear a chastity belt during the #MeToo controversy. “My body is my temple…,” she routinely purrs, as she discusses flavoured condoms.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Well, Rakhi, certainly, seems to have met her comic match in someone called Deepak Kalal, a cross-dressing You-Tuber and blogger who was noticed during the eight season of India’s Got Talent. According to his CV, he used to be a hotel receptionist till he acquired a sizeable following in Pakistan and India after posting videos on Kashmir. Amazingly enough, his father was an engineer with the Mumbai Municipal Corporation. Both his parents frequently feature on his videos.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>In a ridiculously staged press conference about the forthcoming nuptials, Kalal crassly told reporters about Rakhi’s virginity, which he had had tested and confirmed twice over by a doctor. All the while, Rakhi, head demurely covered, simpered next to him, before putting a mangalsutra around his neck. The wedding announcement is perfectly timed to get extra social media exposure while Bollywood groupies are still swooning over the other mega star weddings. That is the essential Rakhi—a brazen, out there social media creation, much like the Kardashians in Hollywood.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>During the course of our flight, she leaned over conspiratorially, and in her best ‘sistaah’ voice, told me to look at her chest. I did as told. “I have removed my implants,” she confessed, “See… my boobs are gone. They are what sell. I know that. But health comes first. I will put them in again after a few months of rest.” Candid and upfront. Just like that. Which is why I like her.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Before a hasty ‘goodbye’ while still on the aircraft, she shot a quick video, in which she said she was thinking of kidnapping me. It was at the time when journalists were indeed being kidnapped, even killed. I warned her not to be silly. It could land her… and me… in a mess. Rakhi laughed. Perhaps that was the whole idea! A dramatic arrest at the airport as we stepped out? She is so much fun. Honestly speaking, I would rather spend an evening with Rakhi Sawant, watching her antics, listening to her mad cap stories, and cracking up with each anecdote, than with a bunch of unoriginal, predictable, boring, pompous VVIPs—from any sector! Rakhi is her own woman. She works hard. She breaks rules. She is a disruptor. What’s there not to like?</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/12/07/the-disruptor-whom-I-like.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/12/07/the-disruptor-whom-I-like.html Fri Dec 07 14:51:55 IST 2018 days-with-the-diva <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/11/22/days-with-the-diva.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/11/22/68-Days-new.jpg" /> <p>Zeenat Aman and I were invited to the first edition of the Jaipur Lit Fest being held in Adelaide under the auspices of OzAsia. It was an interminable flight, and I had been dreading it for days prior to the departure. As we landed in Singapore, my spirits rose at the sight of a familiar person—yes, indeed, it was my old friend Zeenie Baby herself. We had three hours in the lounge to catch up on each other’s lives, and then three whole days in Australia to keep one another company between hectic sessions and receptions. It was Zeenat’s first trip Down Under. As for me, I was happy to spend time with a brave and warm individual I have known and worked with over five decades. We started our modelling careers at around the same time and shot several campaigns together, notably Taj Tea. We also posed for several editorial shoots for mass circulated magazines like Femina, helping each other out with make up and hair styling tips. Of course, after she joined Bollywood we lost touch completely. Our paths rarely crossed, even after she retired from the movies to raise her two boys. But, the reconnecting happened spontaneously and easily, as if the intervening years had been nothing more than a small pause.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The thing I rediscovered about Zeenat is her innate shyness. She keeps to herself and speaks very little. She does not like impromptu requests for selfies or small talk. But, she responds to intrusions with graciousness and obliges fans with a smile and a nod of acknowledgment. It was great to see how two generations of overseas Indians reacted to a former star with so much excitement. Whether at the airport or at the festival venue, Zeenat was regarded with awe and admiration—which of course, she fully deserves as a breaker of Bollywood moulds. It was Zeenat who changed the popular perception of desi heroines by boldly bringing in her westernised style and uninhibited presentation. It took an equally westernised film maker (Dev Anand) to tap into Zeenat’s sensual personality and present her in a tailor-made role—that of a chillum-smoking hippie looking for love in Kathmandu. With her rendition of ‘Dum Maro Dum’, Zeenat instantly became the sweetheart of millions, and paved the way for others like Parveen Babi to follow. Just as audiences were delighting in the new avatar of the modern Indian girl, Zeenat accepted Raj Kapoor’s offer to play a tribal woman with a half-burnt face in Satyam Shivam Sundaram. I asked her what made her take such a quantum leap and she laughed at the memory, recounting how every single actress in Bollywood chased that one single dream—to be an R.K. Heroine.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>On our last day in Adelaide, at the after-party for delegates, we were all left stunned when Zeenat obliged everybody by briefly singing and swaying to ‘Dum Maro Dum’. The younger lot could not believe they had been in the same room as such a huge diva and even danced alongside her. Did Zeenat herself have a good time letting her hair down after years of struggling with various problems? I think she did. On our long flight back to Mumbai, we talked about her multiple challenges as a single parent.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Zeenat Aman is a no-quitter. She is fighting on courageously, travelling the world—from Norway to Surinam—where her fans give her abundant love. As she commented wryly, “I did not have time to enjoy my fame back then; I was too busy working.” But, today, she is enjoying the fruits of all that labour, with her sons by her side and her loving friends to remind her that she is special.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/11/22/days-with-the-diva.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/11/22/days-with-the-diva.html Thu Nov 22 17:07:18 IST 2018 tejs-tear-jerker <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/11/10/tejs-tear-jerker.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/11/10/39-Tejs-tear-jerker-new.jpg" /> <p>God knows what is the real story behind this 29-year-old Bihar politician’s decision to abruptly divorce his bride of six months, but I am rooting for Tej Pratap Yadav. For once, a young man is playing the victim card successfully and making his family look bad. I love the fact that a desi laadla beta is calling out his own parents. Unheard of! He says he was coerced into marrying the young, glamorous, ambitious and educated Aishwarya Rai.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It was not just a big fat Indian wedding, it was positively obese. Well, when the bride’s grandpa happens to be the former chief minister of Bihar (Daroga Rai), and the bridegroom’s father is the notorious Lalu Prasad Yadav (also a former chief minister), out on parole for the nuptials, high drama is only to be expected. Billed as one of the most extravagant weddings in recent memory, the couple made it to the front pages of most national dailies.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I am following Tej Pratap’s media announcements closely. If he is making a manipulative political move, it is likely to backfire. He claims he is a “simpleton” (read school drop-out), who was forced to marry an “urbane” Delhi girl. His mother Rabri Devi—Bihar’s political matriarch—had startled social media last year when she said that she did not want a “mall-going woman” as her bahu. Not sure whether Aishwarya makes the cut, but there she is, back in the marital home, with the entire family rallying around her, and isolating poor Tej Pratap.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Again, this is a most unusual stand to take for a traditional Indian family. Normally, the son can do no wrong, and the daughter-in-law is never right. Tej Pratap has a younger brother, Tejashwi Yadav, who is politically stronger at the moment, and also on Aishwarya’s side. He wants bada bhai to pipe down and not go public with his marital woes. Meanwhile, the aggrieved groom is crying himself hoarse saying his marriage is over, because he is like the North Pole to her South Pole. Citing mental cruelty and incompatibility, it looks like Tej Pratap is determined to end this farce. He has filed for divorce and the next hearing is set for November 29.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Critics of Tej Pratap say he has a penchant for staging press-friendly stunts. He knows his photo-ops and happily performs for scoop-hungry camera crews. His unexpected decision to divorce his freshly-minted wife has taken his political supporters by surprise. But, hey, a man is entitled to speak his mind and end a marriage that has no meaning for him. He asks plaintively, “What should I do? Should I die bit by bit every day? Or hang myself?” I find that pretty heart-breaking.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Generally, one hears such language from a woman who feels trapped in a loveless relationship. I am intrigued by the reversal of roles. Just like a young bride’s family advises her to “adjust”, Tej Pratap’s folks seem to be doing the same. Good on him that he is taking them on and not getting pressurised into prolonging his agony. Aishwarya must have her own version of what derailed the marriage. She has the clout and support of her in-laws to see her through the crisis, especially now that she has waltzed back into the home she had abandoned.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Tej Pratap at this point sounds determined to defy convention and his family members. This could cost him a tidy amount, in political terms. But, then, now that he is a self-declared rebel with a cause, he must stand by his beliefs and fight the good fight till the bitter end. I guess Diwali is not going to be too dazzling this year for the Yadav parivar.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/11/10/tejs-tear-jerker.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/11/10/tejs-tear-jerker.html Sat Nov 10 15:23:31 IST 2018 akbar-has-no-legs-to-stand-on <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/10/27/akbar-has-no-legs-to-stand-on.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/10/27/50-Akbar-new.jpg" /> <p>Lies have no legs,” M.J. Akbar had thundered soon after his return from an official trip to Africa. It had been a week of disgrace for the minister of state for external affairs, after a sizeable number of senior women journalists hurled a slew of charges at the once venerated editor. Overnight, Akbar’s reputation was reduced to mud, and howls of protest demanding his resignation filled media space. True to character, Akbar flatly refused to oblige. Instead, he turned the tables on his main accuser, Priya Ramani, and announced that he would be filing a defamation case against her. For that purpose, an army of 97 lawyers from his friend’s prestigious law firm were instantly made available to him. Please note: 97!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>His obdurate stand and strong denials of any wrongdoing were seen as acts of hostility and defiance by a majority of citizens—even those who did not support India’s freshly minted #MeToo movement.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Well. He blinked first. And, resigned. After all the initial bluster and theatrics. Full disclosure at this point: My husband and I have been casual friends and genuine admirers of Akbar for 40 years. Frankly, in all these years, we have not seen him misbehave with any woman. Yes, he has been high-handed and arrogant, and he does not and will not suffer fools. He has spent evenings at our home, holding court and keeping other guests enthralled by his scholarship and sharp wit. Years ago, we were delighted when his daughter got married. And, I had briefly interacted with his talented son Prayag and his daughter-in-law at the Jaipur Lit Fest last year. I love Akbar’s wife Mallika—a soft spoken, compassionate and wonderful lady.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The very first film review penned by Akbar was published by me in Stardust, when I was the editor. He was then an eager reporter looking for a break in Mumbai, the city he had relocated to after finishing his education in Kolkata. Akbar had written a fine piece on Mere Apne, starring the legendary Meena Kumari. Needless to say, Akbar’s review was brilliant. But not many readers understood it! Years later, we both laughed at that particular journalistic foray of his.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Once he shifted to Delhi, our paths rarely crossed. But whenever they did, the encounters were consistently warm and chatty. Which is why this immense feeling of being let down by someone we believed in. Aggressive, yes. Imperious, yes. Hot-headed, yes. But a sexual predator? Today, as he claims innocence and threatens to sue his accusers, we are finding it difficult to reconcile the two, disparate images. Which one is the real M.J. Akbar? Do us all a favour and please stand up!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>When I read the graphic accounts of sexual harassment shared by his accusers, I believed them. The hurt was real. For too many years, media followed the archaic ‘dog does not eat dog’ principle. Everybody either looked the other way or kept mum when blatant wrongdoings were taking place. Thank God that has changed. Priya Ramani threw the first curve ball, and since then, several women journalists have narrated their nasty experiences. As events unfold, we will be bombarded with more revelations and more denials. It is important to maintain perspective and let the law take its own course—be it with Akbar, Vinod Dua, Gautam Adhikari or anybody else. There is a huge distinction to be made, of course. As a former minister, Akbar represented India and Indian citizens, especially during his frequent travels abroad. Should we make absurd concessions for this one man and wait patiently for the trial to begin? Definitely not! By all means exonerate yourself, honourably if you can, Mr ex-minister. But till your name is cleared, the right thing to do is fight the battle fairly. Lies do have legs, Mr Akbar. As you must have discovered.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/10/27/akbar-has-no-legs-to-stand-on.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/10/27/akbar-has-no-legs-to-stand-on.html Mon Oct 29 11:42:45 IST 2018 lobsang-sangay-tibets-charming-champion <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/10/13/lobsang-sangay-tibets-charming-champion.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/10/13/70-tibets-charming-champion-new.jpg" /> <p>The biggest star of the just concluded Himalayan Echoes literature festival (third edition) in Nainital was the articulate, dynamic and dishy Lobsang Sangay, elected president of the Tibetan-government-in-exile. Inviting him to the festival was indeed an inspired idea—good work, Janhavi Prasada (director of the festival). During her opening remarks, Prasada introduced the man, whose name means “kind-hearted lion”; the same man was once called a “hopeless son” by his father. Today, he is a globally sought after leader passionately articulating the cause of his people.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>At 50, Sangay cuts a dashing figure. Impeccably and fashionably attired, the Harvard-educated human rights law expert speaks his mind with clarity and fluency, especially when he describes the plight of his fellow Tibetans. He talked about his childhood in Darjeeling, where he was born to refugee parents, and sold sweaters to make ends meet. Despite the early hardships, he managed to win scholarships and come up the hard way. As the political spokesperson for Tibetans, he has an enormous responsibility on his hands. He says he gets all the guidance from the spiritual leader, the venerated Dalai Lama, who has anointed him the sikyong (ruler or regent). It is a role he takes most seriously, as was obvious when our flight from Delhi landed in Pantnagar and a contingent of local Tibetans rushed to greet him and seek blessings.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>At the festival, he was relaxed and charming, frequently cracking jokes at his own expense. During a conversation with author Patrick French, who has visited Tibet more than once and written about it, the sikyong reeled off several anecdotes of his many travels, narrating how many times important meetings at government levels were cancelled at the last minute because of pressure brought on organisers by the Chinese. His message of peace and non-violence translating into the eventual goal—Tibet for Tibetans—is delivered firmly with admirable determination. He talked about patience being the key attribute, one which Buddhism preaches and propagates. He cited examples of the Berlin Wall coming down when nobody expected such a development to ever take place. He mentioned the break-up of the Soviet Union, and stated that a similar turning point would come for Tibetans, too.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Listening to him in rapt attention were several prominent citizens of Nainital. Given the festival’s emphasis on the environment, ecological issues and the furthering of cultural arts and crafts of the region, the venue was appropriately festooned with Tibetan prayer flags and dotted with stalls showcasing local, artisanal produce.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Driving to the ever popular China Peak (aka Naina Peak), which is a popular place for trekking and camping, I thought of the irony of the name given by the British to the picturesque site. Here was Sangay informing us about the many injustices Tibetans faced at the hands of Chinese oppressors, and here we were, enjoying the salubrious climate and making plans to visit China Peak on our next trip! I want to suggest a name change to Prasada—why not lobby with local supporters and rename the popular picnic spot? Why China or Naina Peak? Why not Tibet Peak? That would please Sangay. He could be invited back to Himalayan Echoes with his wife and three-year-old daughter. Who knows, anything is possible, like he said. Tibet may yet reclaim its freedom. Till then, a strong, independent and distinct identity will have to do!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/10/13/lobsang-sangay-tibets-charming-champion.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/10/13/lobsang-sangay-tibets-charming-champion.html Sat Oct 13 17:37:33 IST 2018 guhas-gandhi <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/09/28/guhas-gandhi.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/9/28/71-guhas-gandhi-new.jpg" /> <p>We were attending Ramachandra Guha’s fourth or fifth book launch in Mumbai —forgive me for losing track. Guha is such a prolific historian who pens so many tomes with such ease, his genius totally astounds and stumps folks like me, who eventually stop counting. His latest work Gandhi: The Years That Changed the World, 1914-1948 is one more 1,000-pager, that is so heavy that, readers may require a mini-crane.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I am intimidated and daunted by Ram and his book. I am not planning to read it. But my husband, most definitely, is. Please note, I do not address the public intellectual as “Ram”. I am deferential and meek in his presence, not chummy. Critics and jealous authors call him “overbearing”. This is entirely understandable. Ram has to deal with pesky fans who constantly bombard him with idiotic questions. Lesser beings (most of us) are treated with studied kindness by the great man. But, even his cultivated patience snaps at times and that is when one catches Ram in full flow—dismissive and imperious, sarcastic and caustic. I like that. Humility does not suit everybody.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>He is a superlative orator and can hold audiences spellbound. Once, many years ago, we were on a lit-fest tour in South Africa. A prominent author dropped out ungraciously at the last minute, leaving a scheduled slot or two open. The poor organisers approached Ram and asked timorously if he would fill in for the writer who had ditched. Ram sportingly agreed. And, what a performance it turned out to be. He spoke for an hour (without notes) on one of his favourite subjects—cricket. Ram reeled-off anecdotes, dates, personal stories in a manner so engaging, he had the crowd begging for more. I was overawed by his delivery.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Ram clearly has a magnificent obsession—Gandhi. He has researched every aspect of his life with such thoroughness and precision, Ram probably knows Gandhi better than Gandhi knew himself. Listening to him talk about his latest book, it was as if he was discussing the intimate details of his best friend’s life. Maybe that is exactly what the Mahatma has become—Ram’s best friend. This book comes with a teaser of a revelation—Gandhi’s “spiritual affair” with the cerebral, beauteous and sophisticated Sarala Devi Chaudhurani. Ram is not the first historian to allude to this relationship. But, he is certainly the first writer to put it out there as boldly. And why not? For too long, we have stopped regarding Gandhi as a flesh-and-blood man, and converted him into a sexless saint, a God. We cannot imagine him falling in love with a woman and desiring her. Whether or not this “affair” remained unconsummated, nobody can say for sure. Ram assumes it did. What a pity.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>During the one hour book discussion, Ram effortlessly ran through historical nuggets, complete with cross references that left the audience awestruck. Leafing through the book, I started with the last page first. Here is a tantalising quote, “Gandhiji had no private life as we Westerners understand the expression.” The quote is attributed to Reginald Reynolds—“an English Quaker who interacted with Gandhi over a period of twenty years.” Ram also threw it in casually that his editor had knocked-off 40,000 words from the original manuscript. I immediately thought he could spin-off yet another Gandhi-book out of the discarded material. Ram also said more than once that the real “hero” of his latest book is Gandhi’s loyal secretary, Mahadev Desai. Maybe we can expect a comprehensive biography of Desai’s next.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>How does Ram write so well and write so much? Silly question. He just does!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/09/28/guhas-gandhi.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/09/28/guhas-gandhi.html Fri Sep 28 14:39:08 IST 2018 john-on-a-roll <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/09/14/john-on-a-roll.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/9/14/72-john-abraham-new.jpg" /> <p>John Abraham seemed to suffer from the Dharmendra Syndrome for the longest time. Let me explain: Dharmendra was the hunkiest movie star of his time. He was not nick-named Garam Dharam for nothing (I plead guilty! I was editor of Stardust at the time and loved coining these handles). The first time I met John was at an awards function. He had won his trophy in the Best Male Model category—a cakewalk for him, given the competition. He was not particularly chatty. And did not hang around to socialise over cocktails like the rest of the high-profile winners. I figured out years later that our Johnny Boy is a far cry from Dharmendra. If Garam Dharam played up his rustic roots and charmed countless swooning females off their feet during his heyday, John remained the quintessential Bandra Boy—urban and aware. It took him time to earn his stripes in Bollywood, given that he was not playing ball with the big studios, nor sucking up to powerful producers. It was believed that he was no great thespian who would dislodge the reigning Khans, either in the acting stakes or commercially.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Something changed. John turned producer. John opted out of the dating game. John got married.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>His films as actor/producer did respectable numbers in the competitive film market. And overnight, Bollywood started to take John seriously. Today, the ball game has dramatically changed. The irony of ironies being the launch of the sequel to the iconic Sarfarosh. Bagging the role of ACP Ajay Singh Rathod, originally played by Aamir Khan (India’s most cerebral actor), is no small triumph for John. His generous response to the new development was insisting that he is “deeply fond of Aamir”. The role came his way after director John Mathew Mathan decided he needed a younger actor! Oooops.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I am guessing the commercial success of John’s recent films, Parmanu: The Story of Pokhran and Satyameva Jayate, has a lot to do with this casting coup. No matter, Bollywood today is saying, “John is on a roll.” Good for John. As for doing a sequel to Dostana, after the spectacular success of the original, viewers will be wondering how John will top ‘that’ scene—the canary yellow swimming trunks, butt-revealing one. If Karan Johar does revisit the story with fresh actors, he will definitely have to cast someone with as spectacular a butt as John’s.</p> <p>The serious side to his life as a film producer is now firmly established. He says he would not venture into making a biopic on a known star or famous personality. His focus will remain on India’s unsung heroes—doctors, engineers and the common man. Meanwhile, the missus and he duck out for quiet dinners and outings, without any fanfare, unlike other Bollywood couples who make sure their publicists call up photographers each time the couple heads out. His attractive wife, Priya Runchal, stays under the radar, and that is the way the Abrahams prefer it.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I have known the Abraham family in quite another context. John’s brother and parents were friends of my late brother Ashok. Allen, John’s architect brother, had helped remodel my brother’s Bandra home a few years ago. Since that time, the friendship had steadily grown. It was wonderful to notice how unaffected the whole family was by John’s starry image and success. They continue to be regular Bandra professionals—well-liked by the close-knit community and respected for the quality of their work. John is a product of this solid, sensible, educated and stable environment. It shows.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/09/14/john-on-a-roll.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/09/14/john-on-a-roll.html Fri Sep 14 15:05:53 IST 2018 my-friends-with-benefits <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/31/my-friends-with-benefits.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/8/31/64-my-friends-with-benefits-new.jpg" /> <p>Allow me to brag a little: I have interacted with two distinguished Nobel laureates so far! V.S. Naipaul, of course, was a studied act—think about the air of utter contempt he exuded towards lesser beings (everybody). When I encountered it, I found it more amusing than annoying. Over the years, I met him in short bursts and loved the practiced art of withering disdain he projected towards his fawning admirers.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Years ago, he attended a dinner party at our home, with his then partner—an imposing, garrulous Argentinian lady called Margaret. She was his ‘advance party’. Her job was to arrive a few minutes earlier, leaving the great man waiting in a car close by. This was to scan the crowd at the venue and quickly filter it. Were the people present worthy enough of Sir Vidia’s august presence? Was the whiskey being served premium enough for him? It was a neat drill. She would stick her head in from an ante room, survey the scene quickly, and then disappear. If she appeared again, it was with Naipaul, who then greeted his subjects with a slight nod and settled into a corner with a tumbler of the best. Hosts got delirious at the thought that they had passed the Naipaul test! That the lofty one had deigned to honour them with his visit!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Since we did not supplicate ourselves, nor was I prostrating at his feet in sheer gratitude, I guess he figured if he wanted to enjoy a drink at our home, he would have to behave like any other guest. The sight of freshly steamed mini-idlis threw him off guard. He asked me in a somewhat cross voice, “What on earth are these?” I told him. He looked stricken. “Where are the implements to eat these things with?” he quizzed. Margaret scuttled off in search of suitable ‘implements’ (knife and fork). Apart from that, Naipaul was perfectly well behaved and, mercifully, didn’t insult any of our guests.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>My husband and I met the adorable Amartya Sen at a Jaipur Literature Festival dinner. Here was a Nobel laureate who wore his multiple honours as lightly as the navy blue pashmina shawl draped across his tweed jacket. Not for him the lofty grand standing or posturing of Naipaul. He was relaxed, charming, humourous and fabulous company. My husband and I had met him earlier, of course. But this was different. We were with his daughter Nandana (a close friend of ours), and her husband John Makinson (such a darling!). Amartya was with Emma Georgina Rothschild, his third wife, a quiet and observant scholar. The conversation sparkled minus any stiffness, as we discussed Bengali cuisine in minute detail and relaxed over glasses of a splendid red, carefully picked to complement the delicious Rajasthani food. A few years earlier, I had discussed a book idea with Amartya. He had been startled and might I add—a tad flattered! And what was the idea? I had vastly enjoyed Amartya’s The Argumentative Indian, which had become an international publishing sensation. Taking off from that terrific title, I wanted him to write, The Erotic Indian. Alas… it wasn’t to be! I am not sure who shot it down—it could have been Nandana, the loving, protective daughter! I still think it’s a great idea, and Amartya should do it!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Two brilliant minds. And so totally different in their thinking! Sen’s recent opinions on the Indian political scenario are radically opposed to Naipaul’s endorsement of the present government’s stated policies and outlook. Naipaul leaves behind a hefty body of work. So would Sen. Both men offer intellectual banquets to readers to feast on for generations to come. This is called legacy. I feel privileged to have met two unique geniuses at different points in their lives and mine. Friends with benefits? You can say that again!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/31/my-friends-with-benefits.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/31/my-friends-with-benefits.html Fri Aug 31 15:36:51 IST 2018 bhatt-and-his-daughters <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/18/bhatt-and-his-daughters.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/8/18/72-bhatt-new.jpg" /> <p>Mahesh Bhatt is invariably described as a ‘maverick’. And I wonder why. Is there a sly putdown buried inside the adjective? A suggestion he may not be the sort of person to be taken too seriously? And yet, after having known him over the years (and worked with him to create one of India’s longest running soap operas, Swabhimaan in 1998 ), I can say the Bhatt I know is intense, passionate and intellectually evolved enough to take nothing all that seriously, least of all himself!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>As a path-breaking filmmaker who readily confessed to cannibalising his own fascinating life, over and over again (perhaps unable to come to terms with his traumatic childhood, raised by a single mother), Bhatt likes playing to the gallery and shocking the naive with throwaway comments about being a ‘Bastard child of a Muslim mother’. Forty years ago, that statement generated shock and awe. Today, we live in a world where anything goes. And Bhatt is better known to this generation of film fans as ‘‘Alia Bhatt’s father.” It is, of course, Bhatt’s forte to turn even this description around as a badge he owns—which he indeed does.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>This ‘Daddy’ phase is dipped in déjà vu for his contemporaries. But with a charming twist. I remember Bhatt slipping effortlessly into the role of the equally indulgent and proud father, when Pooja Bhatt (Alia’s half-sister) debuted in Bollywood, with a film titled, Daddy. Unlike Alia, who is low-key and soft-spoken, Pooja was a spitfire who was expected to ignite the silver screen and stay there, thanks to her mentor being none other than ‘Bhatt Saab’. Nobody bitched about nepotism back then—it was smoothly taken for granted. Pooja’s career didn’t quite pan out as planned. But that’s another story. Today, it is Alia who is on top of her game, and it is good to see how gracefully she and Bhatt are handling her immense fame and popularity. There is nothing bombastic about Bhatt’s praise for his talented daughter. And he is uncharacteristically subdued when he discusses her future.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I remember Karan Johar talking to me about a ‘young, talented, plump’ girl called Alia, just before he signed her up for Student of the Year. We discussed the possibility of doing a book about her dramatic weight loss programme before filming started. It was a year that not just transformed Alia’s silhouette dramatically, but also changed her future forever. It is to Bhatt’s credit that as an established filmmaker of repute himself, he shrewdly left the launch of his lovely daughter Alia to Karan Johar—and look how that trust paid off! Perhaps even Bhatt had not realised Alia’s acting potential at that point. I spoke to him a couple of times at that time, but those were entirely different conversations, around social/political issues that concerned us both. Not once did he push Alia’s name into the chat. And I liked that. Bhatt has let his children chart their own paths—standing by them, sure, but not overwhelming them. This is hard for a parent, given the invasive levels of scrutiny. He is sensitive enough to figure there are three other kids in the family, who also need his support and encouragement. I can’t wait to watch Bhatt playing what may turn out to be his stellar role—Grandpa Bhatt! Of course, he will spin a movie out of the experience. Not for nothing is he Bollywood’s most loved cannibal.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/18/bhatt-and-his-daughters.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/18/bhatt-and-his-daughters.html Sat Aug 18 20:12:36 IST 2018 the-colourful-dilliwala-tycoon <a href="http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/04/the-colourful-dilliwala-tycoon.html"><img border="0" hspace="10" align="left" style="margin-top:3px;margin-right:5px;" src="http://img.theweek.in/content/dam/week/opinion/columns/Shobhaa-De/images/2018/8/4/71-the-colourful-dilliwala-tycoon-new.jpg" /> <p>As they say in old Hollywood movies, “You never know who you might meet in Moscow.” Well, I was fervently praying I would run into Dr Zhivago. Particularly since my beautiful Russian friend had taken us to the famous restaurant that bears his name. The traditional food served at this historic place was superb and all the waitresses looked like super models. But... there was no trace of Dr Zhivago. Moscow itself was glittering and preening for the FIFA World Cup.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>A few years ago, my husband and I had travelled to St. Petersburg and it had not been a very pleasant experience. After surviving that, we were braced to face just about anything in Moscow. For the first day or two, we only ran into well-behaved millionaires and billionaires from India.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>I met many other football enthusiasts from across India. Most of them were successful techies and dynamic entrepreneurs who had paid the top buck to attend what is undoubtedly one of the greatest shows on earth. I ran into them all the time and everywhere. But, it was my unexpected encounter with a desi, self-styled ‘tycoon’—in the elevator of the swanky Ritz Carlton Hotel in the heart of the city—that left the greatest impression during this turbo-charged trip. By the time this brief meeting took place, I had gotten used to the sight of every second person in Moscow strutting around with burly bodyguards while getting in and out of Maybachs with tinted glasses. Locals proudly told us Vladimir Putin’s cavalcade features eight bulletproof Maybachs. This may be why I didn’t pay special attention to the two heavies who tried to block our way while we were getting into the elevator taking us to the lobby of the opulent hotel after a super glam rooftop party.</p> <p>I overheard a nondescript looking man standing next to me, firing off loud instructions on his cell phone in fluent Russian. I turned to the rude, inconsiderate person, and oh-oh—the guy looked Indian! He was Indian! He noticed me staring, held out his hand and introduced himself by name. No, the name did not ring a bell. I was blank. He seemed like a cute puppy, eager to make friends. He added he was originally from Delhi and the men with him were his business associates from London. Okay. Encouraged and curious, I asked him conversationally and most casually, “Are you an arms’ dealer?” His heavies moved in a little closer, and stared menacingly at me, awaiting orders from the boss. Gosh! This was so much fun! The boss looked stumped for a moment, then laughed. “I am a tycoon—not an arms’ dealer. Mining. I have mines in 49 countries.” Oooooh! Fancy! He whipped out his phone and asked for my number. I promptly gave it. My husband glared disbelievingly. His wife had done it again! The mysterious tycoon said how fantastic it felt to speak Hindi with Indians like ourselves, in this bizarre setting. “I am sending you my business card... you will understand everything.” With that, he and his heavies marched towards their fleet of limos. He was back on his phone, yelling at someone in Russian. Minutes later, he called to say he had enjoyed meeting us and we were welcome to join him in any one of the 49 countries from where he runs his empire. I made a few polite noises and thanked him for the offer. The minute he disconnected, I googled him. He was indeed a self-made, self-styled ‘tycoon’. How come he spoke such fluent Russian? I so wished I had spoken some more to the guy, who had given the impression that he was on buddy-buddy terms with Putin.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>For now, I am still trying to piece Mr X’s story together. He came across as an upfront and brazen braggart. He wants to be understood! Or else those armed heavies listening intently to instructions on their ear pieces will make sure that there is no scope left for doubt. I liked the colourful Dilliwala tycoon. I get the feeling our paths will cross again someday. Till then—Nostrovia!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><b>www.shobhaade.blogspot.com</b></p> http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/04/the-colourful-dilliwala-tycoon.html http://www.theweek.in/columns/Shobhaa-De/2018/08/04/the-colourful-dilliwala-tycoon.html Sat Aug 04 17:23:23 IST 2018