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directorsvision.rediffiland.com/
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AAMIR - a pathbreaker of sorts
I have always believed in writing for movies that have seemed special to me for different reasons – if Saawariya was a Broadway drama on celluloid, Aaja Nachle spoke for the cause of theatre as a dying mode of entertainment, Taare Zameen Par was a dyslexic child’s fight presented uniquely, Aamir is one of the best political Indian films I have ever seen.
It’s tough to be politically right, especially when you are handling about terrorists and hapless Muslims. Coz u can get overboard or sensitise the issue too much and go on blabbering your message. Aamir, on the other hand, takes the route of a thriller with a subtly given message that strikes you hard and leaves you dumbstruck.
The plight of hapless Muslim families who struggle to prove their patriotism isn’t a fact uncommon; I know this for myself coz one of my very good friends (coincidentally of the same name) was harassed in a Delhi hotel when he happened to arrive on 15th August.
Besides the plot, one needs to applaud the direction and acting. The running behind taxis or goons could have looked repetitive but the direction was apt and equally ruthless the editing. Aamir also acts as a launch of my favourite tv star Rajeev Khandelwal who delivers an amazing performance as the distressed Dr. Aamir Ali. ‘Aamir’ means ‘leader or someone who shows the way’ and though you see the hapless doctor running clueless through those areas of Mumbai most movies don’t wanna reveal, he finally shows the way to true patriotism and does justice to his name.
I won’t refuse that Aamir didn’t have a couple of flaws here and there, every movie does, but it outdoes those minor glitches and comes out strong as a path-breaking film. Aamir also justifies that you don’t need to spend a handsome budget or an ensemble case or amazing locales to make a good film. Now, Karan Johan has a huge task on his shoulders as his ‘My name is KHAN’ is supposedly going to deal with distressed Muslim families in USA after 9/11. All the best Karan!
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Mother's Day
This story is a tribute from my side to all the wonderful mothers around the world. They are just the best, wherever they are. They are the best thing that ever happen to people's lives... I love my mom a lot, and she will always be the most special person in my life. Please forgive the mistakes, if any, in the story... Hope you like it...
--Souvik Gupta
Ayush stands on the Lake Gardens bridge, looking at the setting sun. This is the place that he has always been whenever he had felt alone. In these 22 years of his life, Ayush Sengupta has passed through many phases which have taken a toll on him everytime. He still remembers the day when his mom walked out of their house, carrying her suitcase and all her costly items except him. How much had he hated her! He remembers how his dad cursed her saying, “She fell in love despite being married, what kind of woman is she?” He remembers his mother’s moist eyes when he stood at the court and said that he wanted to stay with his father…
It has been years. His mom had married another man and now has a daughter, half his age. She visists them sometimes, and though they are always nice to him, he could never bring himself to accept either his mom’s second husband or their daughter.
He brings out a photo from his shirt pocket – it had his mom and him, hugging each other. It was in Class II, a clear memory, when he stood first in class. He had just returned home, still in his uniform. He smiles at the photo as a drop of tear slowly rolls down his cheek and falls on the photo. Ayush brings out his handkerchief and slowly wipes the tear drop from it. He keeps back the kerchief and brings out his cellphone from the trouser pocket. He ponders for a while and dials a number. A man receives the call. It was his step father, Wriddhiman. Wriddhiman: Hello…
Ayush: Hello, I’m Ayush. May I talk to Mom?
Wriddhiman:Yeah sure, hold on. (calls Ayush"s mother) Priyanka, it’s your call, Ayush on the line.
Priyanka: Who?
Wriddhiman: Ayush, your son…
Priyanka: Oh, wait.
Wriddhiman tried to entertain him until his mom arrived.
Wriddhiman: How are you?
Ayush: I am fine.
Wriddhiman: It’s been a long while since you last came.
Ayush: Hmm… I’ll come soon.
Wriddhiman understood the cold vibes from Ayush and decided not to stretch the discussion further. He turned and saw Priyanka reaching up to him. He handed over the phone to her and went off to the dining room.
Priyanka: Hi beta.
Ayush: Hi, how are you?
Priyanka: I am fine. How are you?
Ayush: I am fine too.
Priyanka: Good, and your college? Is it going nice?
Ayush: Yeah.
Priyanka: Good!
Ayush:You were busy?
Priyanka: Yeah, actually your sister gave me a cake. We were only eating it.
A rush of tears fills the angry red eyes of Ayush. He felt so humiliated. He hadn’t wished his mom on Mothers Day but she didn’t bother about it as she was having fun with her daughter.
Ayush: Ohke. Fine, I will talk to you later then.
Priyanka: No, no, you can tell me. What’s the matter?
Ayush: No nothing, I just felt like talking to you once.
Priyanka:That’s it?
Ayush:Yeah.
Priyanka: Ok, take care.
Ayush:You too… bye…
Priyanka: Bye.
Ayush cancels the call, wipes his cheek and turns to go home. As he turns, he sees a little girl walking up to him. Meethi, the young girl, was approx 8 years old. She was wearing a school uniform, with a school bag strapped on her back and a water bottle in her hand.
Meethi said to him, “Do you know how I may go to Golf Club from here?”
"Yeah, this way,” Ayush said and pointed towards the way but suddenly it struck him by surprise that the little girl was alone on the street and he said, “You are alone?”
Meethi:(smiles) Yeah.
Ayush: (kneels down to the little girl) Where are you going? Your home?
Meethi: No, to my mom’s home.
Ayush:She doesn’t stay with you at your home?
Meethi:No.
Ayush: (pats the cheek of the girl and smiles faintly) Come, I will take you. You know where in Golf Club it’s located?
Meethi: Don’t bother; I will be able to go.
Ayush: I’m not bothering myself. Come along. You will get lost on your way and its getting late. By the way, I am Ayush.
Meethi: I am Meethi.
They shake hands.Ayush gets a taxi and they sit in it. They stay silent as the taxi goes on towards Golf Club. Ayush starts the discussion.
Ayush: How come you are going alone? You return alone from school everyday?
Meethi:No, I return by school bus.
Ayush:Your father knows that you are going to meet your mom?
Meethi:No, then he wouldn’t have ever let me go.
Ayush:Won’t he be tensed if you are late?
Meethi:I will just wish Mom and go home. I will reach home much before he returns from office.
Ayush:You will be able to go home from there?
Meethi:Yeah, I know the route.
Ayush sighs and stays silent. The taxi crosses the Anwar Shah traffic signal and moves towards Golf Club when Meethi pops out.
Meethi:Did you wish your mother ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ today?
Ayush purses his lips and shakes his head.
Meethi:Why?
Ayush:Because she doesn’t stay with me.
Meethi: Why?
Ayush: Because she doesn’t like my father anymore. (Smiles) You are too young to understand.
Meethi: So what if she doesn’t stay with you? Even my mom doesn’t stay with me, but I am going to wish her na? You should also wish her.
Ayush smiles at her and nods his head. Meethi goes silent too. Ayush:Do you miss your mom?
Meethi:Obviously! How can you ask such a dumb question?
Ayush smiles out and nods his head.
Ayush:Do you talk to her everyday?
Meethi:Yeah, every night I tell her about what I did at school that day.
Ayush slowly nods his head.
Ayush:Which class are you in?
Meethi:Class III, Section B, Roll number 31.
Ayush: (smiles) You tell all that together everytime?
Meethi:No, but since you ask so many questions, I thought you would ask them all one by one, so I answered them at one go.
Ayush laughs out loud. He nods his head and says, “Okay, now I won’t ask any more questions, sorry!”
The taxi moves on as they sit side by side silently. Suddenly Meethi remembers to tell something. Meethi:Left, left!
Ayush: (to the taxi driver) Bhaiya, take left please!
Meethi: (Looks at Ayush with curious eyes) Do you want to see what I will gift my Mom?
Ayush:Yeah, sure.
Meethi delves into her bag and brings out a plastic bag from it. One by one, she brings out two articles from the plastic. One was a beautiful rose and the other a small greeting card. On the cover of the card, there was a picture of a little girl holding a lady’s hand. They were both dressed in red – the girl in a red frock and the lady in a red sari. Ayush:(Looking at Meethi) You drew this picture?
Meethi:Yes.
Ayush:It’s beautiful.
Meethi:Thank you, it’s really kind of you.
Ayush again giggles and pats the little girl’s cheek. He flips the cover and finds a small message written by Meethi.
Ayush looked at Meethi and said, “May I read it?”
Meethi gleefully nodded her head, “If you wish!”
Ayush smiles and reads the small message.
“Dear Mom,
I know you that I tell you all of this everyday. But, you don’t ever listen to me. So, I am telling this again because today is mother’s day and my friend Saakshi says that if we give some presents to our mothers on this day and ask them for something, they won’t say no. So, I have made this card for you and brought a rose too. Now, you will have to listen to me.
Please come back Mom, I miss you a lot! Even papa does. Please please come back.
I love you Mom. Yours Meethi.”
Ayush feels a drop of tear rolling down his cheek. He quickly wipes it and is about to hand over the card to Meethi when she shouts,“Right, right!”
The taxi turns right. And almost immediately, Meethi shouts again, “Stop, stop!”
The taxi stops.
Ayush looks around but there are no houses to be seen.
Ayush:Where is this?
Meethi grabs the card from his hand and says, “This is where my mom stays.” She points her finger and quickly gets down the cab. Ayush looks where she had pointed. For a moment, his breath stops. He can’t believe his eyes. He sees a graveyard across the street. Meethi gets down from the taxi and rushes into the graveyard. Ayush gets down from the taxi too and goes towards the gate of the graveyard.
He sees Meethi kneeling in front of a grave and saying something on her own. She places the rose and the card on the grave.Meethi kneels before her mother and spoke to her.
“How are you mom? It’s been almost 2 months since I last visited you. Dad doesn’t even know that I have come here… Do you see my new uniform? It’s for the students of 3rd standard. By the way, I forgot to say, Happy Mother’s Day Mom! These two gifts are for you. Now, you will have to listen to my wish. Saakshi says that if we gifts to our mother……” Ayush fails to resist his tears which roll down like a stream down his eyes, as he stood at the gate watching the little girl talk to her mother as if she could see her.
Suddenly, the phone in Ayush’s pocket starts ringing. He brings it and sees written, ‘Mom’! He receives the call.
Ayush: Hello!
Priyanka:Ayush?
Ayush:Yes Mom.
Priyanka:Beta, are you free tonight?
Ayush:Yes… why?
Priyanka: Actually, your sister wanted to have dinner outside. So, I was wondering if you could join us tonight?
Ayush: Oh!
Priyanka: Will you be able to beta?
Ayush:Yeah mom, I will be.
Priyanka:Great, I will pick you up at sharp 8 o’clock. Be ready.
Ayush:Okay mom.
Priyanka:Take care, ciao.
Ayush:Ciao.
Ayush cancels the call and slowly wipes his tears.
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Rajat's decision
More than a hundred people seemed to have crammed up the Bhosle drawing room. I entered through the door, trying to find where Rajat was. But he was nowhere to be traced, nor his parents. For a moment, I felt lost in the crowd who were cheering for apparently no great reason. I took out my phone and dialled Rajat’s number. After quite some time, my host received the call. “You fucker, where are you?” I blurted, “I am waiting near the door.”Rajat arrived shortly, looking unnecessarily happy and surprisingly handsome. He was clad in a black pin striped suit, and an awesome red tie. “Sexy tie,” I couldn’t help complimenting, “but why are you wearing a suit at home. It’s neither your engagement nor your marriage reception.”
“Am I looking bad?” he joked. “Obviously not…”
I smiled, “no one looks in such a dress.” He smiled and replied, “Dad gifted me this; especially for this day. He is very happy.”
I smiled sarcastically at Rajat and shook my head. Yes, the party was more for Rajat’s father’s dream fulfilment rather than his achievement. Oh yeah, the occasion was Rajat got his CPL – Commercial Pilot License. I have seen Rajat putting in a lot of effort behind this. And wanted his efforts to be fruitful. But, seriously speaking, I didn’t want him to take up the profession of a Commercial Pilot. Coz he was himself never interested in it. His dream was the Administrative services. And he was fit for that role from all angles. Sadly, his father never realised it.
Uncle, Rajat’s father, dreamt of being a Pilot in his youth but he failed to clear the medical fitness test due to some eye problems. Shattered but the rejection, he resolved to make his child a pilot. And, unlike many other sons, Rajat silently obeyed his father’s resolution and fulfilled it too.
“You and your dad,” I said this again (don’t remember how many times I have made this comment
before also), “I sometimes wonder how you put up faking yourself.” Rajat never replied to this remark, perhaps he was now used to it. As always, he just smiled and said, “I will tell you.”
Most of the guests were gone. I sat on Rajat’s bed, eating. He was sitting on a chair in front of me, occasionally lifting something from my plate.
“It’s not always faking you see,” he said all of a sudden, “it’s sometimes adjusting with the fact.” “There is a difference between adjusting and sacrificing,” I retorted, “You wanted to be something else but you are ending up doing something because someone has burdened you with his unfulfilled hopes. I was losing my temper a bit too much but Rajat was in a habit of maintaining his calm.
“You might be right yaar, but I don’t find them as burden,” Rajat replied in his usual saintly calm tone, “I find it something I should do.”
I looked at him in surprise.
“Not one night have I gone to sleep without any of my wish unfulfilled. Even when we were going through a bad financial phase, my parents never ignored any of my desires because they thought it was their duty to fulfil them as they had given me birth. But I have seen Dad living through the depression of not being able to fulfil his dream. But, never did he put me or mom through those humiliations.” Rajat paused for a while and cleared his throat. “It was not possible for me to see him in that pain throughout. If he could fulfil all my dreams, can’t I just complete one of his?”
“What about your dream?” I asked, “you will put that on your son?”
Rajat smiled at my question, “No, I will fulfil that myself. I might not give more than 3 years to this profession. And dad is ok with it. I will concentrate on my IAS preparation after 3 years.”
The idea didn’t seem very feasible to me. The life of a commercial pilot is very luxurious. If he spends 3 years in that profession, the chances of him coming out of it seemed very less to me. I just shook my head and said, “Whatever.”
Rajat patted my cheek and went off.
As I came out in the drawing room to wave them farewell, I saw Uncle standing on his arm-chair and Rajat standing behind him, massaging his shoulder. Uncle asked me to sit for a while and have another ice cream. I refused but he insisted. So, I sat down, pretty sure that he wanted me to sit not because he wanted me to have another ice-cream but to tell me something.
“I don’t know what you think of Rajat’s decision to be a pilot,” he said, “but you must be as proud of him as I am. After all you are his best friend from school.”
I looked up at Rajat who smiled at me shyly and signalled me not to be harsh. Even if he hadn’t signalled me, I wouldn’t have been harsh to his dad. But, I was in no mood for his gyaan either.
“You don’t know how a father feels when his son fulfils his incomplete dream,” he went on, “Rajat is going to help me in living a life which I always wanted. I might not still be able to sit in the cockpit but I will fly through his experiences. I have assured him that I won’t resist if he feels like leaving the profession after 2-3 years. I don’t know what he owes to me but I owe to him these 3 years, which he is sacrificing unconditionally.”
He was at the verge of breaking down into tears. Rajat hugged him from behind and said, “I can never give back what I owe to you.”
I am scared of such senti scenes. I excused myself and got up in a hurry.
As I reached home, I saw my mom watching TV, the food kept un-served on the table.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” I said, “its pretty late.”
“Your father wanted to see you home before eating,” she said.
It was one of dad’s habits. I guess all dads and moms across the world have such sick habits — caring unnecessarily for their children and thinking that they would never grow up. I don’t know whether Rajat was right or not. But he definitely taught me something that day – to care for those sick habits. I don’t know whether sacrificing 3 years of your life for your father’s incomplete dream is cool or not but it definitely takes load of guts. But on second thoughts, it is indeed noble to think the way he did. Those who give years of their lives just for us really do deserve something from us too. To what extent we can repay that is an individual choice…
I can’t help ending this blog abruptly because I have nothing very concrete to conclude. It’s for you to decide whether Rajat was right or not. Would you have done the same thing had you been in his position?
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I saw her dance
My cousin has board exams from this Friday. Though (like me) she isn"t a very serious about studies, but like all hapless students, she is counting every second these days, wishing that they would get multiplied by at least 2, if not 4 or 5. Like mine and my brother's habit, she is also in a habit of studying late into night... I stay awake till around 3 in the night, so I am a witness to her efforts to study till late at night, and the irritating grunting sound she makes while reading. Last night, when I was writing my blog, suddenly the grunting sound stopped. And, it didn"t start for quite some time. It was around 1:45. Now, it was too early for her to go to sleep. "Was she sleeping? Is she solving problems?" -- there were many questions which started making me inquisitive. I walked down the corridor and peeped into her room.. The lights were on, but she was not there. The bathroom was empty too. I was surprised. What can she do at such late in the night? Must be talking to her boyfriend over the phone (Yes, she is in class 10, still has a boyfriend and only I know about that at our home)--- was my immediate reaction.
I came out into the drawing room. And there she was. Not talking to her boyfriend, though. With the ipod connected to her ears, she was dancing. My cousin is a trained Bharatnatyam dancer. And, speaking unbiasedly, she is a good dancer. Though not very flexible, she coordiantes her movements very well with the tracks she dances to. She kept on dancing alone, without thinkin that I was watching her. And so wonderful it was! Because, she was dancing for her own soul, to forget the tension of the imminent exams. And when, someone does anything from his/her soul, it"s always beautiful.
Her dance brought back memories of one day, around 6-7 months back. I hadn"t started blogging then, or else would have surely written about it. I was returning from Delhi, the pre-paid taxi speeding across the deserted streets. It was raining heavily as I looked outside. Suddenly, one of the tyres of the cab got punctured. The driver got down from the car to replace it. It was a pre-paid taxi, so my fair wasn"t increasing and he couldn"t ask me to get another cab either.
I sat alone in the taxi as the driver was struggling at his dexterous best to replace the tyre. I looked around, nothing else to do. Suddenly, I saw a little girl on the opposite side of the street. She belonged to a poor family, which was apparent from her dress. She was clad in an untidy and semi torn frock. She seemed to be of around 8-10 years of age. Alone on the street, under the pouring skies, she was dancing to herself. There was no one to clap for her, no one to cheer her up, yet she was dancing. WIth her hands thrown out into the pouring rains, the little girl"s feet were playing with the wet ground. I don"t know what song she was dancing to, might be "Barso re..." or sth else. It sisn"t actually matter. She was making movements of her own, some copied perhaps, enjoying every drop of the pouring rains.
The taxi-driver came back, totally drenched. He quickly sat back in his position, wiped himself with a piece of cloth. He put the engine on, and soon we were far away from the little girl.
We have so many talent hunt shows, but who will let this tiny magician take part.
I know she would never read this blog and I might not find her again ever, but this part of the song from Taare Zameen Par, goes out for her...
"Tu dhoop hai, chhanse bikhar, tu hai nadi, o bekhabar... Beh chal kahi, udh chal kahi, dil khush jahaan, teri toh manzil hai wahi...."
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the punch passes on...
Karan (name changed) is one of my closest pals in class. We are pretty similar in many aspects, though (unlike him) neither am I an engineer nor I have a couple of years work experience. But, we both come from middle class bengali families, families that have an ingrained in us a lot of self respect and humility, we both have loads of dreams, and both get emotional at tiny stuffs. But we share all these qualities on different angles -- if he dreams to be the next biggest thing after Vijay Mallaya, I want to be the next Raj Kapoor or at least Sanjay Leela Bhansali.[:P]; if not getting highest marks make him depressed, I shed tears watching Taare Zameen Par / Masoom nth time over.
One day Karan pinged me up at gtalk and wrote that he had been a victim in crude class politics. Now, we have a particular election coming in, for college General Secretary and its perhaps the biggest thing in our academic calender. Like many other colleges, GS in our college too is the next highest position after the Principal (and sometimes more than him).
Karan is one of the most deserving candidates for the position of GS, and I would say he is the most deserving candidate (trust me, I am not being biased). And his sole rival is Nabjot, another famous contender (a nice guy but a bit dumb at times :P). Pretty much like other colleges, our GS contenders here also want to outwit each other.
A few days back, there had been a call to start a new club in college. According to Karan, he was one of the earliest proponents of this club. But, Nabjot grabbed this opportunity to gather prominence and took over the arc-lights in this new campaign. Karan, who was one of the proponents, was intentionally sidelined for obvious reasons.
Karan was upset at this introduction of unfair politics and wanted something to get back. I asked him to conduct something without introducing Nabjot in it. "Why not Saraswati Puja?" I said, "if you can push this idea, you will create a milestone in the history of our institute. We have never had Saraswati Puja. Just see, you don"t hurt the feelings of non-hindus."
Karan thanked me for the idea and said that he would definitely think over it. Days passed by and I forgot about the idea. I, myself, was not very interested in initiating this puja as I was a bit sceptical about bringing in a Hinduism notion.
Saturday evening, when I was coming out college, the guard smiled at me and said, "So, IIFT is having its first Saraswati puja this monday!" I initially didn"t understand what the guard said. But, then it struck me. "Saraswati Puja is happening!" I was shocked as I didn"t get to hear anything abot it in the previous few days. The guard (like all other self-appointed information providers) went on saying, "Karan took this idea to the head-sir and then he started arranging for it."
It made me a bit sad (that Karan had told none of us about it), but I felt happy at Karan"s success. I went back to class to congratulate him and offer my help. When I reached, he was discussing the itinerary of the puja with 5-6 other students of the class. Pretending as if I had left anything in class, I entered the class, looked all around and then went out.
Karan has involved others in secrecy but didn"t even bother to inform me? That too something I had suggested him. It seemed unbelievable. One of my best friend in class, who talked to me when he felt cheated, whom I gave the plan, ditched me like this. Did he do something very different from what Nabjot had done to him. A rush of tears filled my eyes as I walked towards the bus-stand. But, I wiped them off and started smiling to myself. It all seems so funny.
The incident reminded me of a pretty stupid game we used to play in school. One of the guys punched another on the arm. This guy, in turn, would pass the punch to the next guy sitting beside him. And the punch was more often delivered with all of one"s might. So, basically, everybody was getting punched hard for no reason, and he avenged that punch by hitting another guy without any reason either.
The former might be a standalone event and the latter a childish game. But, isn"t man"s basic tendencies on a macro-level pretty much the same? He gets wronged by some at some level. He keeps the grudge growing within him, and takes it out at the next guy whom he faces under similar conditions. "If someone can do this to me, why cant I do this to someone else?" -- this is what he says as explanation. But, is the world a forum of revenge -- where you either get wronged or do wrong to others. Just because my boss shouted at me, I need to scream at my servant. Just because my teacher crossed a right sum of mine, I discredit a good dish prepared by mom. Just because my cricket captain didn"t take me in team, I don"t allow my younger brother to touch my bat --- is this how we are supposed to be? No. Life is too short to hold grudges. Go ahead, forget all that has gone by. Good memories make lives, unfulfilled grudges destroy it. You might face certain unfair practices from someone, but for God"s sake don"t be unfair to those who love you.
I hope you agree with me...
Wishing you all the best
Souvik...
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the best selling wood
this was one of my articles published in our college magazine, blame them if you think it"s trash :-)
Okay, guess… which is the highest selling wood in India? That wood which everyone in the country likes, and that has been ruling over the country for almost 76years now. Well, if you haven’t guessed it by now, you must be dumb for sure--- thakurrr it’s our own desi BOLLYWOOD!
Hindustan’s reply to the L.A. industry produces the highest number of movies every year, though the greatness of the movies is a controversial pie to lay your hands on.
But what is it that has kept the Indian Hindi Film Industry ruling people’s hearts? Sex and Shah Rukh? Not exactly! On second thought, might be yes too. Bollywood has always believed in bringing out films that sell in the Indian market, even if that means making the same shaadi-vivah movies n times over. Of the global 6bn population, if your own 1bn people see and love it, there are few you need to think about.
However, over the past few years Bollywood has been making its presence felt on the international platform. The response is encouraging too! And before you sit up and smile---‘it’s only the NRI market they are catering to’, let me tell you this is no longer the scene. I won’t claim that Bollywood has edged ahead in preference from the German, Italian or French film industries; but it is not lagging far behind either. No more is Indian Film synonymous to Satyajit Ray, because the BigB now stands tall at Madame Thussaud along with his daughter-in-law and the Baadshah Khan and now even Sallu miya.But what is it that has kept the growth steady? The answer is simple --- MARKETING! The gurus of Bollywood know their 4Ps pretty well. They know how to entice out 160 bucks from your pocket. And those who don’t know perish! Now, let’s take a unique and recent example. KRRISH. When the superhero Hrithik Roshan jumped from skyscrapers and fished across a sea, the audience jumped and cheered with him. But few know the fact, that KRRISH is the first film in the history of Bollywood, which had made profit even before releasing at theatres. How?
- The international music rights were sold at a mammoth amount
- KRRISH toys flooded in the market and made a huge profit
- And add to that, the initial payment from distributors--- Yash Raj Films
KRRISH was a winner even before the race had started! If marketing only reinforced the credibility of a good movie in case of KRRISH, there have been cases where sincere marketing came as a boon for films which received tremendous flak but yet were hits because they had made their money by the time the negative word could spread. For example, let’s take the example of Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna. The movie was criticized from many corners, but before the buzz could spread, Karan Johar had already made his money. Because he had the most ‘saleable stars’ in his film.
Apart these two films, let’s take certain other successful films and check what marketing factors went in favour of them.
- SHOLAY : Huge star cast. Innovative posters and ‘Mehbooba mehbooba’…
- MAINE PYAR KIYA : New comer Bhagyasree’s face on the posters everywhere.
- MOHABBATEIN : Amitabh Bachchan and Shah Rukh Khan together for the first time together. And Manish Malhotra’s costumes.
- KOI MIL GAYA : Science fiction and JADOO…
- Mr. INDIA : The inviible man.
- MAIN HOON NA : Shah Rukh Khan--- that is star power.
- GURU : The Dhirubhai Ambani factor.
- SANGAM : First Indian film to be shot abroad.
- SATYAM SHIVAM SUNDARAM/ MURDER : Zeenat Aman/ Mallika Sherawat.
And the list goes on
Another factor that has acted as a major marketing factor for hindi movies is the evergreen Bollywood music. HMV gifted Rajesh Roshan a Mercedez Benz after the path-breaking success of Kaho Naa Pyar Hai’s music, which to a large extent assured the success of the film too.
Rishi Kapoor starrer ‘Hum Kisise Kam Nahin’ was no better than an average commercial Hindi flick. But its success was guaranteed by unforgettable tracks like ‘kya hua tera vaada’, ‘chand mera dil’, ‘yeh ladka hay allah’ and so on.
Another mentionable part in this is that of Dev Anand’s ‘Hare Rama Hare Krishna’. and these are not certain hand picked exceptional cases to cite for you. And if you want to check further if music can make films or an actor a hit, who better to ask than our serial kisser Emraan Hashmi, who had the fortune of having super-hit success with the tracks of his films like ‘Gangster’, ‘Murder’ and ‘Aashiq Banaya Aapne’.
And the latest one --- Om Shanti Om, for which, the stars walked on a special ramp show which was organised to promote the 70s style, which was a major feature of the blockbuster. The ramp show was a major success and so was the movie.
But does efficient marketing ensure success? Saawariya spent 20crores for the film promotion but proved to be dud. Similarly, Jhoom Barabar Jhoom spent heavily on promotion but turned out to be YRF’s biggest disaster.
Bollywood keeps reinventing its marketing strategies and you can never say that ‘this’ is the maximum it can get. Some work heavily, some proved to be duds, but the film-makers never stop experimenting when it comes to evolving promotion strategies, even if not the story. Lets just hope that the new-age film makers start experimenting with the storylines as much as they do with the marketing techniques.
With best wishes and lots of love for my dream industry…
Souvik Gupta
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LETS SAVE OUR STARS-- review
TAARE ZAMEEN PAR Most of us associate Aamir Khan with superb selection of films, new storylines with a patriotic touch, a kissing scene and Aamir’s excellent acting. Somehow, I felt that good actors don’t make good directors and vice-versa. It isn’t that such examples are rare – while Dev Anand and Rishi Kapoor proved duds as directors, people like Satish Kaushik and Rakesh Roshan is an average actor turned good director. Yeah fine, Raj Kapoor saab is an exception. But so is Aamir Khan. You love him, you hate, but you just can’t under-estimate him. And his latest film ‘Taare Zameen Par’ proves just that.
You hardly get to see such fine, detailed yet flawless direction in first attempt. And if he being technically and emotionally efficient insignificant parameters in your judgement rule book, then you should give an applause just for Aamir’s courage – not only for trying for trying such a virgin subject but handling with such confidence. The little Ishaan (the taara in the story) was not only the hero of the story, he carried the entire first half on his shoulders; Aamir appeared in the last half minute of the first half. And yet, nowhere would you feel the absence of a hero.
Darsheel Safary (who plays the protagonist Ishaan Awasthi) takes you along with ex-pressions, dreams, struggles, and moist eyes. You eye him in wonder when he bends down and catches fish from the muddy water or feel bad for him when he gets scolded from his father. And if you are weak-hearted like me, you are bound to shed a tear or two when he cries alone in the hostel toilet.
And when Aamir appears on screen, the movement just gets better. It’s a tough job to direct kids and it’s even tougher to act with them in your debut direction. Wonder how Aamir did that!
The penultimate art-scene just melts your heart with a unique blend of curiosity and fun. A special mention in the context of TZP deserves the paintings used. Undoubtedly, the final two paintings by Ishaan and Nikumbh were amazing, but I can’t but mention the flip-book pictures which the little guy left behind to express his feelings upon being separated from his parents.
Though the magazine back-cover idea wasn’t actually superb but it can be forgiven, after the previous two and half hours.
Besides, Aamir and Darsheel, it should be mentioned that everyone acted their part efficiently and effectively. From his mother, Tisca Chopra to the English teacher, everybody was well placed and nicely equipped.
The music of the film isn’t the best of the year, but two tracks are memorable – the title track and the song ‘Maa’, which makes your heart go weak. All in all, Taare Zameen Par is a journey to cherish, an experience to remember. If you have seen it, you will agree and if you haven’t, catch it soon.
Last but not the least, I would like to bestow my regards to Aamir Khan for his professionalism, an actor of his stature gave his name in the titles after the debutante child, though it was appropriate in all senses.
I would end with a dialogue from TZP—
‘people in Solomon islands do not cut trees to make roads; all they do is collect around the tree and curse it, the tree dies on its own a few days later.’
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half a pound sugar
this is one of my least liked poems among my friends, but i have a sort of weak point for it... perhaps thats bcoz parents are a bit supportive about their weaker kids... i hope you like it..
half-a-pound sugar
“Had money been a fruit in my courtyard’s banyan tree,
I would have distributed all my items for free.
But, my dear young lady, that is not the case,”
The grocer, Kishore, looked at Champa with a grumpy face.
“Don’t shout at me,” Champa said, “I’m not a beggar.
I will pay you back soon; I just want half-a-pound sugar.”
Champa knew Kishore for almost six years now
Ever since she came here with Moti as an orphan child.
In these six years, she had grown up and changed a lot, and
Unlike earlier, she is no longer clumsy, anxious and mild.
“Go away, I don’t have sugar for you,” shouted Kishore,
“I give on credit to normal men, not to a fucking whore.”
Champa turned and went back, dropping a tear behind:
She knew why the smiling monster suddenly turned unkind.
A fortnight back, on a rainy night, Kishore came
But she was afraid and so she declined him.
She was not sure but knew that Kishore was ill.
Her mates said that the disease passes and can kill.
Today she wanted half-a-pound sugar
But there was no other grocer around.
It was an urgent need yet no option was to be found.
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aaja nachle
MADHURI IS BACK- AAJA NACHLE
Expectations galore, the eternal diva of Bollywood returned to where she belongs – in front of the camera. As a viewer, it’s such a pleasure to watch Madhuri Dixit back on celluloid after a 5 year hiatus in a role that truly belongs to her. Guess it must have been a dream come true for Anil Mehta!Madhuri is still very much the queen who left her throne voluntarily to let the princesses reign. But a queen never forgets how to rule, and neither does this magician, who was the undisputed queen throughout 90s and early part of new millennium.
Hrithik is undeniably the leader among the male actors when it comes to dancing, but there was some amount of doubt as to who would take Madhuri’s position of being the best dancer among the female actors. However, with Aaja Nachle, it’s confirmed that no one is yet fit enough to be in that spot. Whether it’s the opening sequence where she breaks into ‘Dance with me’ track or the title song or the most beautiful yet under-rated song of the film, ‘Morey Piya’, her dancing might make even Shri Nataraj feel a bit insecure.
Okay, now coming to the film, Aaja Nachle might not be the film you were waiting throughout the year but certainly it has a charm of its own. It talks about one of the contemporary truths – the decay of the theatre medium. Stage is perhaps the most genuine platform of talent, but its less glamorous appeal fails to attract audience and even artistes.
You might already know the story, so I am not elaborating on it. But there are certain things which I would like to say. Besides Madhuri and Vaibhavi Merchant’s excellent choreography, Aaja Nachle boasts itself of neat characterization and stellar performances. You find Kunal Kapoor in a new avatar, Konkona is as good as ever, Vinay Pathak is superb, Ranvir Shorey is good and Akshaye Khanna is great. Even Sushmita Mukherjee, Raghuvir Yadav and the girl playing Madhuri’s daughter were competent. There are some really nice sequences (like the one in which the goons beat up the cast of Madhuri’s play) and the climax theatre part was top-notch.
However, there are certain flaws in the scripting which will be evident if you see the film. But if you can ignore these typical hindi movie flaws, you should be more or less satisfied with the product. And if you like dance and theatre, you have your film.
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