Amodini's Book Reviews

Book Reviews and Recommendations

Of Cricketiquette

Written By: amodini - Nov• 17•06

Reading about the recent Pawar-shoving incident gives me the creeps. Why ? Because it reminds me that vermin like Pawar and his ilk, actually rule India, and are responsible for the “welfare” of the state. Does it bother me that a GREAT INDIAN POLITICIAN WAS (gasp) SHOVED ? No, not a whit. I’d have been more bothered had a common man on the street been ill-treated by Ponting or his team.

Ponting’s defence on his team being a little exuberant in their victory cuts no ice with me. No one asked them to do a sashtang pranam or pay obeisance. All that is expected of an adult is to not beckon, shove or gesture in a fashion that may be taken as offensive. Exuberance is OK, but one must conduct oneself with at least the barest of etiquette, especially in a foreign country. Even with my exposure to the Western concept of respect, and the fact that a non-Indian might be more in-formal, I still feel that Ponting and his team desperately need a crash course in general good manners.

Initially as the drama unfolded, I thought Pawar took it uncharacteristically well – for a politician that is. He dismissed the whole thing as a non-issue, and said that he did not expect an apology. However he later reverted to his true colors, and changed his mind calling it totally uncivilized behavior. Ah, well, I’m thinking – here comes the tamasha.

And tamasha it was. Tendulkar protested on camera, and ranted about on the slight to a person so dear to cricketers. All that love for Pawar. Well, the guy does want to keep playing cricket, doesn’t he ? So, he might as well kiss Pawar’s ass (on television, no less !) when he has the opportunity. And then as expected the NCP called a bandh to protest against the great man’s insult. Apparently water, electricity, roads, food, starvation are not issues, but an insult to the NCP leader is. Besides the fact that Pawar was the trophy presenter and had spent his time being there to honor the Australians, not much qualifies him as a great man.

However, it is the philosophy of babu-dom, that causes us to treat even the most lowly politician (and who’s to say that they’re not all lowly ?) with awe and undue respect. On TV, whenever you see a minister he’s surrounded by bodyguards and lackeys. Lackeys who run hither and thither pushing away people so that the great man/woman can walk un-impeded. Lackeys who hover obligingly – Shall I hold the umbrella so that you’re not blinded by sunlight , Sir ? Shall I hold the door open for you, Sir ? Shall I push the common people away, Sir (they smell, and they want food, water, electricity) ? Shall I wipe the snot off your nose, Sir ?

On crowded roadways, I’ve watched all traffic halt and wait as cavalcades of supposedly important people is rushed through. At airports, lesser politicians line up with garlands to honor the bigger fish back in desh, from whatever foreign land they’ve been vacationing in. Sycophancy is the shelter of the weak, of course, but what of the “leaders” who actually allow such bootlicking behavior to continue and flourish ?

On a an NDTV show, on a totally unrelated topic (spread of dengue), I think it was Sanjay Kaul who argued for the citizen to demand good governance. If one expects an elected leader to not do his work, you can bet he won’t. Treat them like the scum they are instead of heaping upon them the privileges of governance and they might see the light.

You’ve got mail

Written By: amodini - Nov• 10•06

There was a time when postal mail was very important. It still is – don’t get me wrong, but paper-less email by comparison is just wonderful. I think back to mail in India, and my father trundling up the stairs with a few papers in his hand, all mail and all important. No paper advertising, no people trying to sell you stuff, no calls for cheap insurance or stores screaming sales of swimming pool cleaners (and we don’t even have a swimming pool – you’d think that with all this technology somebody would do some research before bombarding us with useless bits of paper). I do like some mail – all the department store adverts are fun to look through, although the husband will trash them when he thinks I’m not looking. So some mail is good, but I don’t want to be absolutely swathed in the stuff. It’s paper, paper and more paper, coming through the door and never finding a way out.

Our mail basket, which is where our mail collects while it’s waiting to be sorted is always overflowing. The problem : the mail comes everyday, but we sort only once a blue moon. So, the mail comes, we look through it cursorily, separate out the critical items and dump the rest into the mail basket.

Dumping more mail into the mail basket , although I mention it so breezily, is actually a pretty complicated procedure. The mail basket, because of it’s ugliness (imagine random, differently sized papers, sticking out in all directions) is placed in a cabinet. It’s actually only about a foot high, but can reach up to double that when fully loaded. Adding paper to that ungainly mountain, is like one of those kid games (I think it’s jenga), where you stack blocks one on top of the other and the person who causes the pile to collapse loses.

To mask ugliness, and pretend we don’t have to sort it (and of course because we are cleanliness freaks in general), we simply close the doors to the cabinet. If you open the cabinet, and the mail spills out, you lose – you’re the one who’ll have to sort out the mess. It’s like that once you have kids, you find a problem – you fix it. Equality, sharing, and all that good stuff goes straight out the window.

As the days go by, and the volume in the mail basket grows, with every load you dump on it, the whole contraption threatens to overflow onto the floor, and cover all walk-able areas. The trick then, to avoid being the mail-sorter by default (and I abhor the task – it’s a little worse than changing a dirty diaper) is to place the new mail installment on the top as gingerly as possible, and shut the cabinet door quickly, before it un-balances. Ideally should take not more than a second, else you run the risk of the whole thing collapsing all over your person. Then you walk away as though you have other important things to do, and you didn’t hear the mail slithering all over the cabinet. Also you must be careful to do this when the husband is not hanging around, because with his sharp ears, he WILL hear the mail collapse and point out to you that it is now your turn to be mail sorter, because he’s done it the past 10 times and blah-blah-blah .

And since we actually pretend to be responsible, work-seeking individuals who wish to toil and clean every second of the day , instead of lazy, TV watching slobs who want bed-tea, I will succumb and will sort. Which is a fate I would not wish on anyone. Except the husband. I mean, someone’s got to do the dirty work, so why not him ?

I’m sure he’s thinking the same.

Categories : _misc

Viewing religion

Written By: amodini - Oct• 27•06

Reading Outlook I am amazed at the differences between the columns of 2 Muslim women . The first, Yvonne Ridley who converted to Islam writes on “How I came to love the veil” and the second, activist Asra Nomani writes on “Beyond the veil”. It seems to me that while Ridley defends her adopted religion, Nomani sees it’s problems and addresses them. I haven’t researched greatly into each one’s philosophies, however this difference in opinion brings home to me certain similarities in the way I view my religion.

P is an American. She’s white, the daughter of a wealthy doctor, was raised in the Southern United States and is now married to one of our desi friends. After marriage, she’s learned to cook desi food (well), dresses in graceful saris and salwar-kameezes when the occasion calls for it, is attempting to learn Hindi, and does all the desi pujas and rituals that her mother-in-law has made her aware of. In fact when my Mom visited the States and met P she was thoroughly impressed by her Indian-ness. And it’s true, barring one or two, P is the most traditional among all my Indian-born married friends/friend’s wives.

She travels to India often, and loves spending time there, although she does find it dirty in general and has much to say about the deplorable state of bathrooms in homes/malls etc. And like me, has problems with the way women are treated/looked at(eve-teasing/dowry demands etc.) in India. I’m not sure what the family dynamics are in India at her in-laws place but she seems to get along pretty well with everyone. And that might be because she’s a very nice person. Or cynically (because I know that she has a mind of her own), that everyone is conversing in the vernacular which she doesn’t understand very well.

The difference in my and her thinking stems from the fact that she, as a practicing Hindu has the whole “Indian woman” thing going on, while I, as someone born in India and won’t accept the traditional “female” role easily. It might be that she is unaware of all the baggage that comes with “being-a-good-Indian-girl”. Also, from her talk, it seems that she’s able to pick and choose the customs she wishes to follow without incurring any displeasure. How ? It might be that she’s viewed as the “American” who deigns to follow Indian customs (so nice of her etc.) – thus what she does is more than enough, while I, as an Indian woman am expected to follow them all (no choice in the matter).

It’s like from the “inside” one can see where and how social expectations develop, and be critical. From the outside, flirting with the exotic, knowing you have the option to pull out, and no one will damn you for it, blinds you to faults.

There are also circumstantial differences. As an American who’s well insulated from Indian society (by living far away) except for the once-in-2-year India trips, and having a maternal family and society which do not force upon her pujas and vrats for the good of the husband/sons/family/world in general, and actually concedes that she is a person in her own right (and not just through marriage) she has options. If she does do the Pujas – great. If she doesn’t – so what ? Doesn’t affect her parents/friends etc and doesn’t affect her relationship with the outside world. I, on the other hand am looked on a little oddly (she’s just different) when I wear my mangalsutra only as jewellery, or keep my maiden name. When in India, my telling-it-like-it-is is curbed by what the friends of my families will think and how my conduct reflects on them. I am reminded of my duties – this is what “women” should do – while I think P might have the option of feigning ignorance or a language handicap. I am not insulated from “what-everyone-will-say” or “what-everyone-will-think” because my families live there. And everyone, regardless of “how modern we are” have the same expectations from (Indian) women.

Categories : _india , _culture_and_society , _women

My Don Review on Rediff

Written By: amodini - Oct• 25•06

The review appears on Rediff here. The original (and more expansive) review appears on my Movie Blog here.

Categories : _films , _film_reviews

Desi Pundit going down in 5 .. 4 .. 3 . .

Written By: amodini - Oct• 19•06

Desi Pundit is going off the Web. Oh crap ! Just when I’m starting to get hits through them 🙂 . Ah well (philosophizing) All good things come to an end. DP is my daily read. My link to posts I would never have heard of before. There is such a dearth of sensible and remotely grammatical matter on the Net. DP helped such matters greatly.

Not any more though.

I can see what they mean when the DPers write about the lack of time, as a reason for shutting down shop. DP must take effort to sustain. Everyday. I will on my part, start a weekly round-up of 5 good posts, 5 posts worth a dekho, and link to them on Fridays. I’ll call it “Blogs for Fridays” or other such fanciful names, and all the blogs I link to will appear in Molten Gold letters . . .

An Ode to Twitching Eyebrows (or the new Don)

Written By: amodini - Oct• 13•06

Hmm, guess who’s eyebrows ? Shahrukh Khan’s ofcourse ! I didn’t think much of them in KANK , and I don’t think the twitch will help with the upcoming Don. I don’t condone the actual twitching. After all one must have one’s personal signature style; Rajesh Khanna had his immensely annoying mannerisms and we must forgive the Khan his.

newdon

With all the hype around Don, it looks like we have a major block-buster at hand. Or so says my husband, who’s an ardent fan, actually more of a devotee of the Big B. If worshipping at Amitabh’s feet was an actual paying job, I think he’d have done that. But then, I suspect, so would have millions of desi fans. He has seen Amitabh’s Don more times than I can count, and when he talks of the magic of the film his eyes glaze over. So when such an absolute devotee looks forward to a remake of THE CLASSIC, I am floored.

A Don Remake ? Blasphemy, I think ! Has Farhan Akhtar lost his marbles ? It is one thing to remake a crappy film, because you have a good chance of making it better. But to remake a 70’s classic super-hit, when the chances of recreating that magic are slim, one must be either really brave or really stupid. I thought Farhan belonged to the former category.

Plus he seemed to have the knack for story-telling an UNTOLD story – take “Dil Chahta Hai” or “Lakshya”. Both exude exhuberance and youthfulness, and tell well-crafted stories. They are modern day classics. They create original magic, the keyword here being “original”. Borrowed magic, my dear Farhan, is after all borrowed. Why borrow when you have your own ?

old_don

Don (1978) was the film it was because of it’s cast. Besides AB (much discussed and upon whom I could write reams), there’s Zeenat Aman, Helen and Pran. 4 actors I consider inimitable. Now consider the replacements : SRK replaces Amitabh. Can SRK recreate AB’s magic ? Hmm, can pigs fly ? You shake your head vigorously – No,No. I concur. SRK will be SRK, first and foremost. Any other character he might be playing comes second. Always. The only time he seemed to indicate otherwise was in “Swades”. But that was it. After that he has well and truly reverted to the SRK persona.

flg_pig

Yes, SRK does embody the modern-day Rahul as much as Amitabh embodied the yester-year Vijay. But, can today’s Rahul emulate the yester-year Vijay ? Again consider, will there ever be a time when pigs will fly ? You shake your head vigorously – No,No. I concur. And then of course then there’s the very indisputable fact : Bachhan can act. Can Shahrukh ? Yeah, let’s not go there . . .

Priyanka Chopra replaces Zeenat Aman. Yes, I agree that Zeenat couldn’t act either, but there the similarity ends. Ms. Aman had truck-loads more oomph, and a very upmarket touch-me-not aura to her. Chopra on the other hand is far more earthy; a poor man’s Zeenat if you will.

Then Arjun Rampal replaces Pran. Sacrilege ! Pran-like actors are born but once every googol years. To even think that Rampal can carry off Pran’s role, is inviting God’s wrath upon oneself. Rampal has the kind of face which belongs to handsome models, not raspy-voiced rascals with hearts of gold. Pran was the ultimate villain with acting abilities (even though he plays Officer Jasjit). Rampal in neither a villain, nor does he posses an iota of Pran’s dramatic talent. Don’t get me wrong; acting abilities or no, Rampal is very easy on the eye, and I do like seeing him on-screen. However not as Jasjit – please, please, Nooooooooooooooooooo . . .

Kareena Kapoor as Kamini. Helen was the original Kamini. A Kamini like no other. If there was ever a Kamini, then Helen was it. I am more kindly disposed towards Kareena after her blow-you-off-your-feet performance in Omkara, but that still doesn’t make her Kamini. It makes her Dolly. Still at least she can act. Which is more than I can say for the others.

Still Farhan Akhtar’s track-record leaves me optimistic. In the hope that he will take this ambitious project and be able to imbue a stale tale with freshness. Put a new spin on the old Don. Bedazzle us with visual imagery, enchant us with a tall-tale, and captivate us with cinema yet unthought of.

One hopes. And one waits with bated breath.

Categories : _films , _film_reviews

Old is as old does

Written By: amodini - Oct• 06•06

saree There’s a Chinese fast-food restaurant near my place of work. It’s yummy (read spicy food with lot’s of chili paste), reasonably priced, and the service is quick. So I frequent it often. I see quite a few older folk in there usually. Older couples mostly. Like the one I saw yesterday. In their 70’s or 80’s I’m guessing, they were well-dressed white folk. The man looked older and the woman had a short hair-cut, and carried a large tote. They didn’t look like they were made of money, but they looked reasonably well-off. And they looked like they’d dressed with care; she had make-up on. Probably retired I think. They’re still lunching leisurely as I leave.

Another time in a Mexican restaurant, as I’m dipping nachos into the guacamole sauce I see this gaggle of old ladies enter. It’s noon-ish and really bright outside. And the women enter all sun-glassed and make-upped. Nicely dressed, high-heeled shoes, fashionable handbags etc. Their clothes are colorful, some of them are pastels others brighter. I notice some of them put their keys into their purses ; they have driven themselves. It looks like it’s the ladies day-out or something; the group is large and the chatter is that of old friends. All the women would be about, or older than my grandmother’s age.

I remember my grandmother. She always wore white sarees, or very pale off-white or grey colors. The saree could be embellished with very light embroidery or have a self-print , but it was generally very muted. She used no make-up. I never saw her in high-heeled sandals or fashionable purses. Her skin as far back as I can remember was always wrinkly; she must have been younger when I was a little kid, but she always seemed very old. She used to have a gold chain around her neck, and wore “kadas” on her wrists, and heavy bejeweled earrings which had so enlarged the holes in her ears that now instead of just being ear-piercings they were 2 deep gashes in the ear-lobes. And she was tall, but walked stooped with arthritic knees. When she went out of the house in a “nice” but still white sari, and her good chappals, her shuffling gait still suggested an old woman. She must have been beautiful when younger; I don’t have any photographs though.

When my grand-father died, her older sons were the earning members of the family. And she always lived with one or the other son. When she visited us, she spent a great deal of time in her pooja with her rosary beads. When she spoke to me it was mostly about food, eating and learning how to cook, doing the bed, learning household tasks and generally “being” a girl. A couple of times she would generally ask about school. I’m not sure if she ever thought about herself, as in apart from the household, her clothes, her looks, her wants. I don’t think it ever occurred to her to have an autonomous house of her own where she could stay and do as she liked.

Speaking of this with a friend R, she told me about her grand-mother. Also widowed her grand-mother lived with R’s dad and the family. R’s grandmother was a Sardarni. Also always wore very light pastel colors, and limited her life to looking after the household. When one son’s wife died, she moved to his house to take care of his family; he had 3 young daughters. R said her grand-mother loved sweets, she would walk a short while in the evenings and buy toffees at the corner paan shop. She also loved milk and would get herself a glass of it from the fridge everyday. This apparently was considered most un-old-ladylike, and she was subject to much gentle ridicule by other family members for having the toffee-eating habit (like an old person that desires toffees – my, my !).

I know that my grand-mother and R’s grandmother came from a different time, for Indian women. They never worked outside, rarely stepped out of the home and had school-level education only. Still, that comparison between my grand-mother and this old lady in the Chinese restaurant jars. It’s not just her attitude which is so different, as in the American woman looks like she’s interested in herself; it’s not just about her family and children – she exists too. My grand-mother rarely talked about herself. There was always the deprecating note of “Apna kya hai . . . “ (loosely translated to “I don’t matter”). She would have long conversations with my parents but her concerns were mostly about her children and their children and what was for lunch today etc. Her life as she saw it seemed to be limited to living in a son’s household and being dependent on someone else. Always.

There is also the very notable attitude which Indian society seems to have towards older folk. Like they stopped existing. Or existed only for their kids. Like they gave up all wordly pleasures when they became grand-parents. Or like old age is only for pooja-path. It’s still considered allright for an older women to wear pretty clothes or want new clothes if her husband is alive. Become a widow and that goes too. It’s considered improper then, to want, to desire. How many colorfully clothed old widowed aunties have you seen ?

I guess money comes into it big-time too. Some of my mom’s friends are widows too. But they’re wealthy widows. One of them live in this posh, sprawling bungalow all alone. There’s a chowkidaar at the gate and a chauffeur to drive her around. She has a cook and a full-time maid. Her kid’s live in other cities or abroad (I hear she visits them from time-to-time or they come over), and I’ve never heard her begrudge them their independent lives. According to my Mom, she comes to the kitty-parties dressed in expensive silk sarees and matching jewellery. Diamonds wink at her ears and fingers. She has diabetes and spondilitis (that’s common between all the rummy-playing aunties) but she doesn’t whine and moan about not seeing her son or her grandchildren or her great-grand-children. She has a full life of her own. I’ve met her and she’s this little old lady. Her hair is jet-black (comes out of a bottle) and she looks graceful and put-together (money’ll do that for you – that’s the cynical side of me popping up).

Some folk might tell me that she has nothing to complain about. I can’t agree though, for I’ve seen many uncles and aunties who inspite of having all material comforts, want their children to stick to them and not live their own, independent lives. Like my aunt once said to my Mom – It’s about our son. He’s our life.

When I look at older people (and single older women) around me here, I see them having a level of independence unheard of back home. And yeah, although it’s annoying being stuck behind a slow-moving car on a narrow street, when I turn around to look at the driver as I pass her by, and see an old-lady with snow-white hair and glasses through which she seems to be peering real hard, and she seems to be like 70, I’m instantly contrite. This woman has gotten dressed, and decided to go somewhere today, by herself. She didn’t wait around to be driven around by a son/daughter or a younger friend. She is hopefully well-dressed (I can’t tell that though, from my car), and presumably independent. And I’m like “You go girl !”

Categories : _india , _culture_and_society , _women

Gandhi : now uber-cool

Written By: amodini - Oct• 02•06

ct. 2nd comes with a bang this time. Yes, it’s Gandhi’s Birthday allright, and all the netas are still doing the media rounds garlanding all Gandhi statues in the vicinity, so nothing’s changed there. But this time there’s a fervor sweeping the nation (or maybe just the media ?). Watching TV and all the stuff dedicated to Gandhi-giri in real life, would make you believe that Ram Rajya is coming back to town. It’s magic, see. Watch “Lage raho Munnbhai (LRMB)” and become a convert. Begin paying your taxes, shame corrupt officials into not taking bribes, and stop eve-teasers in their tracks with those wondrous words : “Gandhi-giri”.

The public’s collective memory is short, and the media will churn out the stories that bump up those TRPs. So as I watch NDTV cover the cast of LRMB celebrate Oct.2nd , I wonder if everyone’s forgotten that the star of “Lage Raho . .” is Sanjay Dutt, one of the accused in the horrific Mumbai blasts ? Apparently the media with it’s gushing deluge of Gandhi-ism and it’s so-called pratitioners forgets about the recent court verdict. Was it only last month ?

Gandhi is cool again. We talk about it, read about it and the general feeling seems to be that if we do this enough, Gandhi-giri will permeate through. Under our skins, in our consiousness, in our thoughts and our actions. No extra effort required. We’ll respect the bystander on the road, clean up after ourselves in public places and wait patiently in lines for our turn. And yes, we’ll ooze patience and the milk of human kindness, forgive and forget, turn the other cheek etc. Just like that.

It’s absurd to me. Am absolutely flabbergasted with all the tripe being hurled up into the mainstream by the media. Gandhism has existed for a long time now. Gandhi’s principles are well-known. Humanity and respect are basic requirements of civil society – Gandhi didn’t invent them. You don’t need Gandhi to popularise what it means to be human. You should (hopefully) know that for yourself. Gandhi’s principles just extend the concepts a tad. Take them further. He tells you not how to be good, he tells you how to be best. And when you are not good, it’s hard to be best.

In society where hired help and servants are treated like second-class citizens, and elected leaders in parliament routinely resort to bashing each other up physically with implements like chairs and tables (I remeber seeing the footage on DD), this tom-tomming of newly found uber-cool-Gandhiism is ridiculous. Aiming for Gandhi’s principles when basic human rights are not respected is like aiming for the moon. If all it took was a film and advertising, creating a concept, a brand if you will, to get Gandhi into our system, India would be the land of milk and honey indeed. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way (much as I wish it would), it takes law and order to persuade some of us to adhere to non-violence.

That 70s thing

Written By: amodini - Sep• 27•06

This morning as I rush about getting ready for work, I hear a familiar, evil laugh. No wonder it’s familiar, for there grinning away on screen is Prem Chopra. He has a gun in his hand, and is smirking (as only Prem Chopra can) at Rajinder Kumar , and saying “Aaeeye, aaeeye Saxena Sahab” (come, come Saxena Sahab). It’s been so long that I’ve heard anyone allude villainaously to Saxena, that I actually get nostalgic for the Prem Chopra genre of movies. If you recall back then, Saxena was ubiquitous; there was a Saxena in every Hindi film, and there was a reference to “Saxena Sahab” in every movie worth it’s salt. Saxenas abounded in the world. Kind of like the “Raj Malhotra” of nowdays.

Anyway, onscreen Rajinder Kumar looks worried. Sure, he looks worried. They have his son (Rishi Kapoor) all tied up. Of course Rishi doesn’t actually know that Saxena Sahab is his Dad. Oh, yay, this early in the morning, having switched on the TV for a split second, I have actually stumbled on the Father-Son reunion thingy. (or so think I, on intermittent trips from the bathroom to the TV). On cue, slimy Chopra says to Kapoor “Yehi hai tumhara Baap” or words to that effect. Rishi looks distraught : “Nahin !” But Chopra isn’t done yet – he’s going to kill both of them . Yet at this very crucial moment facing imminent death, they have choices. “Who wants to go first ?” he wonders “Beta pehle ya baap ?”

And then my dears the crowning glory – apparently Rishi’s girlfriend is also in Chopra’s evil clutches. He wants her to be brought out too “Iski memhbooba ko le aao” etc. A rosy-cheeked Neetu Singh appears. She appears suitable rebellious and hurls the choicest of epithets at Prem Chopra. But you know Chopra, quite unfazed and quite taken with her womanly charms. He smiles and what a smile; it stretches from ear to ear and still looks evil. And he leers. And what a leer – a cross between a fool’s grin and a psychopath’s all-knowing sneer. So there you have it, the long-lost father-son duo, the evil stereotypical villain and his henchmen, and the buxom, peppy heroine. Apparently the son doesn’t like the father, so there’s some familial tension there. But then of course in the climax true blood will tell. The good guys face the bad guys with enthusiasm. They laugh in the face of danger and each one’s righteous cries implore the villain to kill him/her and spare the others.

I have to go – the toothbrush overfloweth. But really how noble ! And oh, how 70s !

Hindi films and cultural slopes

Written By: amodini - Sep• 22•06

The hubby and I have decided that we will let the kids watch some Hindi movies. This will help the Hindi, we think and one must after all allow desi culture to seep in. The Hindi is varied in it’s dialect , goes from Mumbaiya to Awadhi to Punjabi. The culture is questionable. But still we persist; the keyword being “some”. No violence, no gory stuff etc. The usual strictures apply. Of course then , we can’t show them the intense dramas (too boring and hard to understand). That leaves the lighter fluffier movies. And I mean FLUFFY. Still one can’t get too picky.

What we, actually I, haven’t contended with is the insatiable curiousity of the said kids. I, as Mom, am dispenser of information (all types of information). When they were younger I ingrained it into them, that ALL moms know EVERYTHING. As in, if you didn’t eat your lunch completely at school, I WILL know. The kids have taken the knowledge bit too literally now, and I hesitate to disillusion them and rob self of imagined omni-potence. Dad can get away from information-seeking-fests by seeming to be too engrossed or too asleep. Therefore when the questions come they come to me.

On screen, a Nirupa Roy look-alike weeps copious tears, again and again and again.

They : Why does she cry so much ?

Me : She is sad ?

I know why she cries. She’s spent her life doting on her kids, and has no life of her own. Kids leave, mommy cries. I’d like to cut off her supply of glycerine, and send her to college/kitty party.

On screen, Kareena swings her hips, as though wishing to disconnect the upper and lower halves of her body. She sings lustily.

They : Does she like singing ?

Me : I guess.

They : Does she like singing in the rain ? (it’s raining now, but Kareena is undaunted)

Me : Some people might like it. I don’t. She’ll catch a cold though for sure, and then she’ll have to go the Doctor and get some horrible injections.

You can tell I’m trying to be fair and just and present the pros and cons for their digestion. What I’d do to Kareena if I was her Mom is another matter.

Now, Kajol in Fanaa. I bet she froze in that snow in her churidaars. In other films, where I see heroines singing in chiffon sarees and strappy blouses, in below-zero temperatures, I am astounded at the director’s cold-heartedness (the hero is warmly clad of course). The kid’s wonder about the heroine being impoverished. Isn’t she cold ? I’m sure she is. Is she poor ? No. Doesn’t she have any more clothes ? She does. Can’t she buy a jacket ? She can. All logical questions, all deserving logical answers. I assure them that the woman is rolling in the stuff, but she’s wearing the chiffons because she likes them (or because the director wants her too – but then that might lead to questions about the director . . .). However, I also roll my eyes big-time – this is a signal that the chiffon-clad woman on-screen is also lacking in the brain department – wearing summer clothing in dire winter, will leave you frost-bitten, with runny noses and a very good chance of catching various awful diseases. And then guess where she’ll have to go ? Oh my God, No – the Doctor ? And she’ll have to stay in the hospital for a very L-O-N-G time.

More on the song and dance routine, which is an ubiquitous part of the Hindi film. I mean, the most “documentary” like film will spring an item number on you nowdays (take Mangal Pandey, as an example). I prepare myself for a barrage of questions.

They : Do you like that dance ?

Me : No.

They : Does she like being chased ? (The hero is in pursuit/serenading his lady love by being his eve-teasing best, mid-song)

Me : No, definitely not.

They : Why is she smiling then ?

Because she is demented. The director is nuts. Any girl of sound mind, would at the very least hail the nearest auto, heave-ho and leave the loser hero to dance by himself. How do I say that though ?

Me : Because she’s a foolish girl. She’s not using her brains. Her parents should ground her.

They (about the hero) : And what is he doing ?

He’s being an ass. Besides which the guy has two left feet.

Me (out loud) : He’s being silly and rude. His parents should ground him.

Then I resort to plan B. I pick up the remote and fast-forward.

This is hard stuff. One day, I tell myself, I will sit down and give them background in Hindi cinema – differentiate between the do’s and the let’s- not- attempt-this-at-home behaviors . I haven’t thought of the slippery, cultural slopes I’ll have to slide down then, but soon I’ll have to give it some thought.