Indian Premier League - Fools Attired as Harlequins

Thackeray has asked Pawar if the IPL would solve the problem of the farmers of Maharashtra. I have a sneaking admiration for Thackeray in that respect. Trust him to come out with inconvenient questions such as this, while everyone is in a frenzy of feasting on cricket, cricket, and more cricket on television. One must remember that he is an artist, and a thinking person too. Some speeches of his I have listened to have a very satiric quality about them, which he no doubt uses effectively.

It's a shame I could't watch the mathch played in New Bombay last sunday. I could see the bright lights from my house, and the teams were living in The Park which is a short walk away. Still, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to be part of the sham, because, I think it is a shame that cricket is deified so much when our hockey, football, badminton, table tennis, et al, players are living in poverty and ignominy.

On second thought, I couldn't afford it. I couldn't afford the money (Rs 500), nor the time (10 hours, including queueing for tickets), both big investments for me. After all, what is a sham worth, especially for a cynic like me?

The money? Many thousand crores will go into the pockets of players such as Shaun Pollock, and Sanath Jayasurya (I've nothing against you, Shaun, Sanath, I am just quoting an example) while farmers are bearing the brunt of a hard summer in Vidharba and elsewhere. Pawarji, have you ever thought of organising water wagons for these parts, I am asking since you are the agriculture minister, in addition to the BCCI chairman. And one more thing: you were also publicly humiliated by Ricky Pointing, if my hazy memory serves me right. If you wanted you could have stopped this 'tamasha' in your own backyard, which is turning cricket in to something like, like, World Wrestling Federation (WWF).

Sporting glory? Is the Shreesanth episode any glorious? National good, NYAAH! Shaun and the like will make the most money. Then what? The flannelled fools have become logo-touting, obscenity shouting gladiators whose only aim is to show their prowess on the field and scoot back home with the money. I can also see that some players are taking it easy. What loyalty would Jayausrya have for Bombay, a city he doesn't even know? How come Ajit Agarkar is playing for Calcutta against Bombay? Where are his loyalties?

We have a way of dismisssing such tamashas as 'encouraging sports'. But as a country where some areas are facing twelve hours of electricity cuts, can we afford it? Can we afford the tamasha of imported cheergirls and fools attired as harlequin? Can we?

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Picture Blogging, Any Ideas, Anyone?

My last few mobile posts haven't appeared and my picture posting on Shozu isn't functioning either. Oh! I don't know if mobile blogging is worth all the money and time I invest in it. It's expensive, blogging in general, you have to have the latest mobile phone, and they charge me Rs 14 per day for net access.

To get mobile blogging activated I had to run to the Airtel office a few times, until fed up, the zombie there told me to shoo off. They only activate Mobile Office and don't know how to activate Gmail. So I had to figure it out myself. I guess with Shozu, the same will happen. In the end I will figure out how to upload pictures and videos.

Ah, well, that's risk I knew I was taking when I took to blogging in August 2003. Once picture blogging is in place, I can shoot a picture or video and blog it almost immediately.

Only thing left is to figure out how Shozu work. Anyone has any idea?

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For a mobile blogging experience: http://johnpmathew.blogspot.com, for all else: http://johnwriter.com

Mindless Bollywood; Mindless Television

I think Indian television is going the Bollywood way. I mean, it’s becoming more and more meaningless. Ho hum, by meaningless I mean, staid crappy entertainment, which is not funny or entertaining at all. Bollywood has gone so far away from meaningful entertainment that one is utterly flabbergasted by films such as “Rang De Basanti” and “Munnabhai” being hailed as new wave of film making. Come on, the supposedly new wave of Bollywood film makers such as Hrishikesh Mukherji and Basu Bhattacharya are dead or phased out.

I speak from a hazy memory here, but I know some of these are facts. And so are Guru Dutt, Ritwik Ghatak, Aravindan, John Abraham (not this lover boy John Abraham, but the director John Abraham [yes, there used to be one director by the name John Abraham who served journalists attending the premiere of his movie with Arrack, that too in plastic mugs!]), Satyajit Ray and Mrinal Sen.

I should say it reflects the corruption of the cinematic medium and today the darling of the media, the television is full of laughter, fun, songs, blood and gore (they have an new wrestling hero called Khalli), and NO NEWS. News channels these days sound and look more like a David Dhavan caper with Govinda doing a slapstick gag every second.

SCENARIO ONE

Here’s a rough study I carried out yesterday. One of our leading news channels had the following programmes in its prime time (a time when I was expecting some earthshaking news scoops):

The Bajji-Shrishant slapping controversy: with repeated pans of a seemingly unrepentant Bajji and a crying Shrishant. Okay, but this has zero news value in a country that is beset by a heat wave (in the North) and torrential rain (in Kerala), the Maoist risings, and farmers committing suicide.

Saif and Kareena’s latest capers. Um oh, who’s interested? (क्या सैफ करीना को शादी करेंगे?) I mean well for Saif (whom I have met in person), who I think is a decent human being. Again zero news value.

A poisonous snake found in New Zealand. Oh really? What does it do for us in India? Should we stock anti-venom shots? Again zero news value.

And then Raju Shrivastava (my favourite comedian): he comes on, wearing something like a steward’s dress (the sort I see waiters wearing in the Deccan Odyssey), puts on an act, and he is left clapping his hands and laughing at his own jokes. Oh God, how can my favourite comedian fall so low? Guess overexposure is not good for him.

Mindless entertainment to increase TRPs? You guessed right.

SCENARIO TWO

At the same time I switched to BBC and they had the following programmes:

The violence in the Gaza strip (live coverage, lots of news value)

The Hillary Barack tussle for Democratic nomination.

A documentary about Zambia, and how the Chinese are investing there and why Zambians don’t like working for Chinese companies. (Great news value)

Zimbabwean elections (live coverage, lots of news value).

Now when was the last time you saw a documentary about a state of India (forget a country like Zambia) on Indian news channels. Here are a few documentaries that are crying to be made and shown on Indian televisions:

1. The growing menace of plastic in Indian cities
2. The Sulabh-Shauchalay experiment that failed (this may be of interest)
3. What is frustrating marginal farmers in Vidharbha
4. An in-depth report on Special Economic Zones
5. A documentary on how migration is killing Indian urban infrastructure
6. A detail report on the politics of appeasement (free houses, free loans, etc)
7. How many this or that Yojana schemes have reached the poor
8. etc. etc.

Why don’t we see such coverage and instead of laughter, wrestling, cricketing, star affairs, even poisonous snakes of New Zealand is what beats me.

Two Recent Poems

Here are two poems I wrote recently:

Vision from My Office Window

Where Are Those Days?

If you like the play of words, the richness of rhyme, the beauty of thoughts, then go read and enjoy!

On Thane Creek Bridge

When I used to travel by the old Thane Creek bridge I used to look at the rail bridge that I am traveling now and used to wonder when it will be finished so that I can travel by it. It was then in a lot of flurried construction activity, with cranes, girders, barges and tugs everywhere. Now I travel on it everyday and don't feel a thing though it is a wonderful saving in time, offers a great view of he creek, and mesmerises me everyday the way the sea shimmers below it. When I near the area, away from the awful shitty smell of the city, I draw in a long breath. At least, New Bombay (where I live) doesn't smell as bad as the city.

Makes me wonder the way old gives way to the new, my old impatience to see the bridge completed has now given way to new aspirations, and I take the old longing to ride on the bridge as old stuff, to be cast away, like the small boat I can see now bobbing in the creek.

Seems we are ungrateful for God's small mercies!

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Of the diasporean tail wagging the dog....

Reference to this article in this blog, some where in the nether world below, I have been thinking (not unusual, no?). Dalrymple called the phenomenon of the diasporean Indian trying to out-wit and out-write the real Indian as 'the tail wagging the dog'.

Agreed, we are the dog, and they are the smart tail, powdered, made-up and sanitised. But they are smarter, the are able to communicate better, to be able to wag the dog (us) they have to be. We poor unfed, undernourished denizens who call ourself Indian Writers in English (IWE) have to hold on to underpaying jobs, work overtime, listen to peeves such as this - flowery language, too poetic, too verbose, too wordy - and still have to make a living for ourselves. It's actually very sad, I think as I look at the morning sun outside the speeding train, we are a generation of writers trapped in our own history of dissent and protests without any role models to follow.

Dalrymple says Arundhati Roy was (rather, still is) the only discovery that the Western world made and that all other writers who claimed they have been paid three million as advance (and still stuck to their desk jobs) have not even got the publishers their advances. Tut tut! Well a lot of would-be Arundhatis did send in their manuscripts, only to be told they weren't as original as the lady herself.

So when Pablo offered to bring in celebrity writers and give us a chance to interact with them, we should have actually jumped at the chance.

Instead, what did we do? We stayed away. A noble and sensitive writer like Indra Sinha came and spoke to a smattering of the usual 'poetry reading' audience, other luminaries like the editor of Spectator (Matthew something) came and the hall was half empty.

And who was masterminding the boycott? Couple of writers from England, yes the very own that Dalrymple calls the tail. No media came because they were giving the glad ear to the 'dog who was being wagged' by the tail in England.

I guess the Indian writers who stayed away were making common cause with the tail who actually are our worst enemies. They call themselves the smart tail but refuse to acknowlwdge the body they belong to. Hari Kunzru says he is not the smart tail at all, he disown being the tail! I think he should name himself Harry Kensigton or some thing!

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'Me' in Today's Mumbai Newsline

I have been quoted in Indian Express' Mumbai Newsline of today. Go see on page 7 of today's Mumbai Newsline. Will post a scanned picture here tomorrow. Go here to read online in Expreess Mumbai Newsline.

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For a mobile blogging experience: http://johnpmathew.blogspot.com/, for all else: http://johnwriter.com/

Baggage tags, Bong talk and the like....

I look around desperate for something to write today. Nothing? I saw an Indian laburnum in bloom outside my house this morning, its flowers had carpeted the floor so that it looked as if there was a thick yellow carpet on the floor.

There is tentative conversation from a gang of Bongs sitting next to me. The subject is a favorite of Bombayites: the price of flats and how he was smart enough to invest in time, how much Kharghar has developed, and how much Panvel will develop. Much is 'I am smarter than you' 'Keeping up with the Joneses' kind of talk, and each one is trying to prove that he is more successful and has made the wisest decisions. Then they talk of tonnages and how many ships are landing with its cargoes at which ports and I lose interest. I see that I can understand a bit of Bong from being with Bongs during my college days. One Saswata Deb initiated me to Bong culture, but we are hardly in touch these days.

Then I see the luggage rack above. Three of the bags have cabin baggage tags hanging from them. One is Kingfisher Airlines, and two are Deccan Airlines. I think: What does this indicate? That they want to show the world that they are somebody big who travel by air? That they have arrived in this rat racing, meme spouting, influence peddling, purgatory of a city that smells of shit everywhere? Come on, give me a break, remove those baggage tags and stop being hypocritical about two hours you spent in space in a claustrophobic tube!

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Indian Premier League, What the Heck?

Saw ipl match between Bangalore and Calcutta on tv. If this is the future of cricket, then, sorry, you have lost a fan. Not only is it boringly commented on ('fantastic wicket' 'fantastic player' 'fantastic shot', how come every thing is so fantastic?). Where are the delirious fans? Where is the jingoism that an India Pak match used to command.

I saw a guy waving the Indian flag. Poor critter, probably thought this was an India-Pak edge of the seat entertainer.

Its pure commercialism. For example doesn't Royal Challengers conjure images of whisky, which is forbidden from being advertised? Has the Advertising Standards Council been caught napping?

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William Dalrymple on the Indian Literary Dream that Wasn't

William Dalrymple on the Indian Literary Dream that Wasn't:

'The truth is, however, that since 1997 there has been no new galaxy of stars emerging to match the stature of those of the 1980s and 90s. Many of the Indian novelists who were signed up with such excitement 10 years ago failed to repay even a fraction of their advances. The only Indian-themed book to win the Booker - The Life of Pi - was written by Yann Martel, a white Canadian. In India itself, there is no new internationally acclaimed masterpiece, no new Roy.'

And then I read this and I weep tears of bitterness:

'Writers such as Kunzru, born in Hounslow or Edgware or Brooklyn or New Jersey, have a clear and built-in advantage over their cousins brought up in Jhansi or Patna. They have far more confidence in English, and their ethnicity and geography makes them natural bridges between cultures, able automatically to translate an Indian sensibility for the west - if that is what they want to do. Certainly, their background effortlessly puts them in a position to draw together a range of different influences, to work with ease in India and Britain and the US, and to produce art that is readily comprehensible at both ends of the globe.'

Seems my dream of being published is going farther and farther. Oh, great publishers, why haven't you replied to my emails, replied to me within a few weeks (as promised), when it is already one year and a half. The mind grows numb, hope dims, the distance seems blurred. Ah, well!