Let Kashmir Decide Its Own Fate

Just about five years ago, I was a strong believer in the authoritative proclamation: “Kashmir hamara hai.” Anyone who even wandered about other alternatives was automatically considered an anti-Indian (or pro-Pakistani, which more or less meant the same thing!).

Thinking about that polemic and rather one-dimensional sentiment now, I think that belief originally stemmed from a strongly conceived notion that Pakistan was trying to snatch Kashmir out of our hands, and we can not let them succeed. It was by no means a wrong judgment of our neighbor’s motives. Pakistan did try (and is still trying) everything they could to make sure that Kashmir remained at the forefront of India’s major concerns for last 61 years.

Then there was another (rather indirect) justification that if we let Kashmir go then other states and regions will start (or, restart) making secessionist or irredentist demands. This was an obvious concern since India has seen many secessionist movements after its independence - Nagaland, Tamil Nadu, Punjab, Assam and Mizoram.

Adding legitimacy to the belief was the fact that the Maharaja of Kashmir, Hari Sing, signed the Instrument of Accession in 1947 and according to that, Kashmir became a part of India. [Here is the full text of that Instrument of Accession]

Thus a strong national pride challenged by the malignant neighbor, a valid concern for the integrity of the nation, and legitimacy in the form of Instrument of Accession kept alive the staunch and stout belief that Kashmir is an integral part of India and we can not let it go.

My believes have changed over the years and now I realize that in all those rationalizations, I forgot to consider one vital point. The will of Kashmiri people. And how we promised to respect the will of the people by conducting a plebiscite. This promise remains unfulfilled, as it was contingent on Pakistan withdrawing their military presence from the Kashmir region. This is not totally unfair claim on India’s behalf. Pakistan does occupy the so called ‘Azad Kashmir’ and also another sparsely populated region known as ‘Northern Areas’. Pakistan gained both of these areas in the war of 1948.

Since then, Pakistan kept on infiltrating the region with terrorist, and training Pakistani as well as Kashmiri people in their camps. And India kept on sustaining and increasing its military presence in the region to counter-attack the terrorism, which came with the unfortunate side-effects of subjugation of the inhabitants and in some cases rapes and extortion of innocents. In the midst of power/dominance struggle between two nations, the fate of Kashmir remains uncertain. We never actually stopped and asked the Kashmiri people what they want. 

In last 61 years, India had tried everything to please the Kashmiris (in the hope that they would stay amicably as a part of India). But  the situation have gotten only worse and more tenuous. What’s becoming more and more clear is that the Kashmiri people - especially in the Valley - don’t want to stay with us. They look at us as oppressors and consider Indian “occupation” of Kashmir as one form of colonialism.

Being a democratic nation, India is being unfair with a state that has no desire, and have never had any desire, to stay as a part of India. (Consider the following: Junagadh was a mirror image of Kashmir in 1947 - a Hindu majority state with a Muslim ruler. When the Nawab declared that he wanted to accede with Pakistan, India sent military to Junaghdh and the Nawab had to flee to Pakistan. Our justification for military intervention? The will of the majority is to stay with India, we said. But alas, we didn’t use the same yardstick with the situation in Kashmir. The will of the Maharaja took precedence over the will of the population.)

If we let Kashmir go, then following their streak, what if people from (let’s say) Punjab come up with the same demand, you might ask. First of all, that’s very unlikely. All secessionist movements in India had died away. And even if they get renewed, the case in point would be different and it would warrant a different solution than that of Kashmir. (Kashmir is the only Muslim majority state in India. The only state with majority of the population that never wanted to accede with India.)

It’s time to hear from the people of Kashmir. A plebiscite is long overdue. If Kashmir wants to stay with us (the Hindu majority Jammu and Buddhist majority Ladakh region are likely to vote in favor of India) - fine. If not, let them try independence or merge with Pakistan. (The Muslim majority Valley is likely to go either way.) This, obviously is not easy to implement overnight, and I am no political guru who can lay out the game plan for how India and Pakistan should proceed. But as a believer in liberal democracy, I feel that we should take necessary actions and move in the direction of holding a referendum in Kashmir. Let Kashmiris, not the military, not the politicians, decide the fate of Kashmir.

Further reading:

Vir Sanghvi argues that we should hold a referendum in Kashmir, not only because of democratic and ethical but also for economical reasons.

Swaminathan Aiyar writes about the farcical democracy of Kashmir that, according to him, started with Sheikh Abdullah in 1951. He compares Indian claim to the Valley with British claim to India before 1947. (I don’t agree with all of his point of views though.)

Amit Varma believes that a plebiscite is desirable but impossible given the imperatives of Indian and Pakistani politics.

The Importance of Second-tier Leadership

While reading Stephen Philip Cohen’s lucid, analytical and insightful book about Pakistan’s past, present and future: The Idea of Pakistan, I learned how Pakistan struggled with a void of political leadership that was immediately felt after the untimely death of its founding father Mohammed Ali Jinnah in September 1948. Jinnah’s close associate Liaqat Ali Khan, then the prime minister, was assassinated in 1951 and then Pakistan slipped into a state of political (as well as social & economical, for that matter) instability that “oscillated between unstable democracy and benign authoritarianism”. No wonder the army was compelled to take over the political void and in 60 years of history of Pakistan’s existence there were four coups by army Generals: Ayub Khan (1958), Yahya Khan (1969), Zia ul-Haq (1977) and Pervez Musharraf (1999).

There are many reasons for this political turmoil in Pakistan (which Stephen Cohen has explained in detail in his book) but I am not going to divulge on that here. What made me wonder was the striking difference in terms of the lineage of political leaderships between India and Pakistan.

The father of the nation of India, Gandhi, passed away just several months before his counterpart in Pakistan died. (Gandhi was assassinated in Jan 1948.) Other significant political leader, Patel, died soon after in 1950. But India had a cadre of great national leaders whose patriotic zeal and dedication was thriving to lead India into a politically stable, socially liberal and economically growing nation for years to come after independence. These leaders included people like Nehru, C Rajagopalachari, Rajendra Prasad, Jayprakash Narayan, Maulana Abul Azad and Kripalani among others.

If you trace back the rise of all aforementioned leaders, you will find that it was Gandhi’s influence that worked as a stimulus to bring them into the centre stage of freedom struggle. They might have had their disagreements with Gandhi time to time, and some of them were active freedom fighters before they met Gandhi, but after their engagements with him, they all became his staunch followers, adored their leader and learned a great deal of political acumen from him.

When Gandhi was 62, a foreign journalist asked him whether he would agree to become the Prime Minister of the future government [of India]. To this, Gandhi simply but resolutely replied “No. It will be reserved for younger minds and stouter hearts.”

That was in 1931, 16 years before India actually became free. But Gandhi’s search and recruitment for the leaders of free and independent India started even earlier than that - right after he came back to India in 1915, to be precise. Gandhi seem to have selected his disciples carefully from all around India (Patel from Gujarat, Kripalani from Sindh, Nehru from Allahabad, Rajagopalachari from Madras, Abdul Ghaffar Khan from NWFP, Abul Kalam Azad from Calcutta, Narayan and Prasad from Bihar, Sarojini Naidu from Hyderabad). 

Gandhi’s recruitment also transcended the political boundaries. His close associates included Kalelkar - a scholar from Maharashtra, Ghanshyam Das Birla - a marwadi industrialist, Vinoba Bhave - a social activist from Maharashtra, Jamnalal Bajaj - another marwadi industrialist, among others. Apart from achieving independence, Gandhi’s other visionary goal was to prepare India for independence and create a foundation for a politically stable and economically self-reliant nation.

As liberal democracy continues to survive in India, 60 years after independence (in stark contrast with its neighbor Pakistan), we should be grateful to those great leaders of the yore who dedicated their lives to not only attain independence but build the foundations of our country with a futuristic vision.

Alas, the leaders of pre-1947 Pakistan seem to have completely missed on this foresight. Jinnah’s strong but dominant leadership left no room for second tier leadership there. And for past six decades Pakistan has been paying a very high price for that.

Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na (Movie)

Abbas Tyrelwala is, originally, a screenplay writer, a story teller. And the first movie he makes (Jaane Tu), is much more about the characters, the dialogues, and the treatment than it is about the story. 

The director knows that it is a cliched love story. And he toys with that idea through a cynic character (I forgot her name) to whom the story is told. After getting a glimpse of what the story is about, she declares that this is a bakwaas and even boring story and she doesn’t have any interest in hearing it. I felt that this is as if Abbas Tyrewala is throwing a challenge to the audience - to prove that he’s a good director who can tell you a gheesi-peeti story and you’ll still like it because of great direction! Just for fun, I am speculating the thought process that might have went though his mind when he thought of directing a movie: “I have already proved that I am an excellent story teller. Now I am going to direct a film. What’s the best quality of a good director? To be able to turn a run-of-the-mill story into a good movie that everyone can enjoy. Yes, let me just stick to a cliched love story, and prove that I can convert that into an interesting, charming and fresh movie.”

So he throws a challenge to the audience that you’re going to love it, however bad or bakwaas you think the story is. And I think he did a wonderful job as a director. The story was very predictable and you know where and how it was going to end. But it’s not the journey from point A to point B that interests you, it’s the characters who go through that journey, and along the way you get attached to them and want them to be, happy-ever-after. Almost all of the characters are well-developed in the movie, you feel like you know them personally. Most noteworthy are: Aditi’s brother Amit played by Smita Patil and Raj Babbar’s son Pratik Babbar, and always charming Ratna Pathak Shah who has this amazing ability of turning even simple dialogues into something that leaves a chuckle on your face. I wish actors like her were given more roles in movies. I felt that the weakest link (in terms of acting and depth of character) was Genelia. After a long time (first time after Cheeni Kum) I actually liked and enjoyed Paresh Rawal’s comic role. He badly needs to get out of the Priyadarshan-style comedies and remind us once again how he could be subtle, real and funny.

I don’t know what Abbas Tyrelwala is going to work on next, but I, for one, will be eagerly awaiting his next directorial venture.

Bhule Bisre Geet

There are few first-rate singers who sang beautiful song(s) just in one or two movies and then vanished. (Note: We’re only talking about Hindi movies here.) I don’t know the reasons for their disappearance, but I wish they had sung more songs because these singers (details below) had quite unique (and unconventional) voices.

The first song is from the movie Kudrat (Music by R D Burman). This movie had a very famous, loved-by-all song sung by Kishor Kumar: “Humen Tumse Pyar Kitna”. But the song (one of my personal favorites) I am referring to was sung by Praveen Sultana, who got a national award for Best Female Playback Singer in 1981 for this song. I don’t think we heard from her again after this one wonderfully-sung-written-and-composed song. (The lines “Tumhe Koi Aur Dekhe, To Jalta Hai Dil” from Kishor’s version is nicely replaced here with “Koi Jo Daare Tumpe Nayanva, Dekha Na Jaaye Mose Balamwa, Jale Mora Manwa, Jale Mora Manwa.”) Hers was not the most suitable voice for a mainstream actress, but I wish she had been given some more classical songs.

Gaman (1979) had a couple of beautiful ghazals composed by Jaidev - who was quite underutilized in my opinion. This song in particular was sung by Chhaya Ganguli: “Aapki Yaad Aati Rahi”. (She also got a national award for Best Female Playback Singer for this song.)

With a simplistic structure, haunting tune and minimal instrumental arrangement, the pang of separation that it tries to convey is very effectual. Chaaya Ganguli’s melancholic voice takes it to a level that very few other songs can attain. A timeless classic!

Koi Deewana Galiyon Me Phirta Raha, Koi Aawaz Aati Rahee…

Next song “Aaye Zanjeer Ki Jhankar” is sung by another rarely heard singer Kaaban Mirza. Khayyam (one of the greatest music composers of yesteryears) composed music for this movie - Razia Sultan.

Khoon Dil Ka Na Chaalak Jaaye Meri Aankhon Se, Ho Na Jaaye Kaheen Izhaar Khuda Khair Kare…

Talking about Khayyam, very few people know that her wife - Jagjit Kaur - also sang few songs in Hindi movies. The following song is from Baazar called “Dekh Lo”. (Two more popular songs from this movie are: “Karoge Yaad To” and “Seene Mein Jalan”.)

Another song by the ace music composer Jaidev from the movie Gharonda, “Tumhe Ho Na Ho” was sung by a Bangladeshi singer Runa Laila. Although very popular in her native country, she never made it big in India. I just love the unconventional tune/structure of this song and even more unconventional lyrics (I mean, you can find at least, I would say, five songs for any given situation. But how many songs can you recall in which the girl is telling her boy-friend that whatever his feelings for her are, she’s pretty sure that she herself is not in love with him?) Other popular songs in this movie (“Ek Akela Is Shehar Mein”, “Do Deewane”) were written by Gulzar, but “Tuhme Ho Na Ho”, however Gulzar-ish it might sound, was actually written by Naqsh Lyalpuri.

Sudha Malhotra, who sounds much like Asha in the following duet from Prem Rog, is not as rare as other singers mentioned above. She sang some more ghalzals (“Ishq Ishq Hai”), and being a “typed singer” some children songs too, but was never given much opportunity. Lyrics of “Ye Pyar Tha” were written by Santosh Anand.

The following Punjabi song, with quite rhetorical lyrics (It’s okay to break a temple of mosque, but breaking a heart? No way.), is from Bobby: “Beshak Mandir Masjid Todo”. Chanchal sang this song, bagged a National Award for Best Playback Male Singer (1973), and then disappeared from the music scene. (Again, because of his unconventional voice which was probably considered unsuitable for lead actors.) Music was by Laxmikant Pyarelal and lyrics by Inderjeet Singh. (All other songs of Bobby were written by Anand Bakhi.)

Hemlata is another singer that remained almost a one-time-wonder. After all these years “Akhiyon Ke Zarokhon Se” hasn’t lost an iota of its freshness. With the innocence of Hemlata’s voice, and the unparalleled honeydew sweetness of this melody composed by Ravindra Jain, this songs remains to be one of the best female romantic solo. (Although, every time I hear this song, I can’t help but notice how Hemlata mispronounces Jharokhon as Jharokon!) 

Let me end this post with a poignant lullaby written by Gulzar: “Do Naina Aur Ek Kahani” from Masoom - composed by R D Burman and sung by Aarti Mukharjee.

I Recommend

Here’s a list of five books that I’ve read in the past year or two, enjoyed quite a bit and would recommend:

1. Blank Slate by Steven Pinker (Non-fiction). If you’re even slightly interested in the science of human nature, evolutionary biology, cognitive science, or behavioral psychology, you’ll love this book. And if you’re not, after reading this book I am sure you will become quite interested! After rejecting the theory of tabula rasa, Pinker goes on to explain the reasons (not justifications) behind gender inequality, racism, and even nazism. (I used to joke around with my wife that every chapter, if not every page, in this book gives me an intellectual orgasm!). Wittily written and quite persuasive, this book remains as my most favorite non-fiction book.
2. The Complete Hitchhiker’s Guide by Douglas Adams (Science Fiction). There’s no other author whose writing style I’ve enjoyed more than that of Douglas Adams. (I am referring to the joy that comes from jocular and often whimsical phrases like “In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”, and “Arthur and Trillion had the fixed expression of rabbits on a night road who think that the best way of dealing with approaching headlight is to stare them out” and “The thing that used to worry him most was the fact that people always used to ask him what he was looking so worried about.”) This book, which includes stories like The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, and Life, the Universe and Everything, is a delightful read.
3. The Last Mughal by William Dalrymple (Non-fiction). I’ve already written my thoughts on this book earlier here.
4. Sacred Games by Vikram Chandra (Fiction). A Mumbai noir that takes you on a journey to the Mumbai underworld and gives you an inside look into the lives of the Mumbai police force. The intertwined and rather epical stories of a Sikh cop and a gangster are quite gripping, exiting and often melancholic. With 900 pages, this book is an unlikely choice for picking up from the shelf, but once you do, it’s hard to put it back! After finishing this long drama of crime and punishment, I was left with a feeling of yearning for more. 
5. The Argumentative Indian by Amartya Sen (Non-fiction). A historical analysis of the argumentative nature of the Indian mind. Sen argues (being an argumentative Indian himself!) how, contrary to Western perception of Indian philosophy and tradition as mystical and spiritual only, Indians have a long tradition of skepticism and rationalism. He lays out his arguments along with some great examples like Asoka, Akbar and Nehru, among others. With fascinating insights into the philosophies of religions of Indian origin (Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism and Jainism), Sen’s well written book is bound to impress the reader.

The Myth of Rational Voter

In a thought provoking book, The Myth of Rational Voter, economist Bryan Caplan argues that democracies fail because voters are irrational, possessing systematically biased beliefs about economics. (It’s important to note though that the argument he makes is not against democracy, but excessive democracy.)

These systematically biased beliefs can be categorized into four families: anti-market bias, anti-foreign bias, make-work bias and pessimistic bias.

Anti-market bias: A tendency to underestimate the benefits of the free market mechanism. Leaders from pre-independence era (in India) are immediate examples that come to mind. “Profit is a dirty word” said Nehru once, expressing his disbelief in market system and endorsing his socialistic ideals. The motive (i.e. greed) behind business is usually the prime focus (and cause for disapproval), instead of the discipline that those personal motives along with market competition enforce. Any action that is performed to satisfy personal motive/interest is automatically considered bad, or anti-social. We tend to look at profit as a one-way transfer of wealth (often from the poor to the rich). But as Caplan explains:

“Profits are not a handout, but a quid pro quo: If you want to get rich, then you  have to do something people will pay for.”

Profit encourages productivity, movement of resources from less-values to more-values industries, and innovation to come up with new useful products. There are some possible explanations Caplan comes up with in his book (that I don’t want to get into here in this post) for why the “invisible hand” remains invisible to a common man’s eye.

Anti-foreign bias: A tendency to underestimate the benefits of interaction with foreigners. Alan Blinder’s passage succinctly explains this bias:

“People around the world scapegoat foreigners. When jobs are scarce, the instinct for self preservation is strong, and the temptation to blame foreign competitors is all but irresistible. It was not only in United States that the bunker mentality took hold. That most economists branded the effort to save jobs by protectionism shortsighted and self-defeating was beside the point. Legislators are out to win votes, not intellectual kudos.”

(There’s another beautiful paragraph by Steven Landsburg that I can’t help but mention “There are two technologies for producing automobiles in America. One is to manufacture them in Detroit, and the other is to grow them in Iowa. Everybody knows about the first technology; let me tell you about the second. First you plant the seeds, which are the raw materials from which automobiles are constructed. You wait a few months until wheat appears. Then you harvest the wheat, load it onto ships, and sail the ship westward into the Pacific Ocean. After a few months, the ship reappears with Toyotas on them.”)

The Law of Comparative Advantage, one of the most fascinating theorems in economics, remains a distant and misunderstood concept for general public.

Make-work bias: A tendency to underestimate the economic benefit of conserving labor. When we think in terms of productivity, higher productivity is intuitively better than lower productivity. But when we include ‘jobs’ into the equation, the intuitive understanding is turned upside down. More jobs with lower productivity is seen as better alternative to fewer jobs with higher productivity. We tend to ignore the fact that the latter situation encourages more work to be done, and enlarge GNP. While the former situation, which garners more public support, implies that prosperity is equated with jobs (instead of productivity). Frederic Bastiat ridiculed this as “Sisyphism“.

Pessimistic bias: A tendency to overestimate the severity of economic problems and underestimate the recent past and present performance. People always tend to glory in the past (the “good old days”) and believe that things have gone worse since then. In spite of increased living standards, we tend to perceive the world as less safer and more “corrupt” than before. (And while we’re on that subject, watch Steven Pinker’s impressive speech on TED: The Myth of Violence. According to him, we are probably living in the most peaceful times in the existence of our species.)

With these strong prejudices, however benign the voters are in their motives, they end up voting for bad policies. In any case, because of the miniscule probability of one individual vote to flip the outcome of an election, the material cost of a wrong decision is insignificant (as compared to the psychological benefits of comfortable beliefs) for a voter. And that makes a strong case for more reliance on markets, doesn’t it?

What I Took Away From Aamir (Movie)

What a movie! Direction (by debutant Raj Kumar Gupta who assisted Anurag Kashyap in No Smoking), Cinematography (by debutant Alphons Roy), Performance (by debutant Rajeev Khandelwal), Music (by debutant Amit Trivedi), Editing (by Aarti Bajaj) - all are top notch.

This post in not a review. (There are many good reviews available online.) It contains my personal interpretations about the message that the movie tries to convey.

SOPILER ALERT: If you haven’t watched the movie yet, don’t read this post.

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There’s a lovely song by Eddi Reader “It’s Not What You’ve Been Given, It’s What You Do With What You’ve Got”. (Listen to it here, it’s really beautiful.)

And that precisely what, I think, the central theme of the movie Aamir is.

“Kaun Kehta Hai Ki Aadmi Apni Kismat Khud Likhta Hai?” is the tag-line of the movie. The answer lies in the movie, in the final scene, to be more precise.

When the kidnapper tries to preach Aamir and tells him about the difficulties that Muslims face in India, Aamir shots back at him and asks who’s stopping them to break the social and economic barriers and make a decent living? After all, as his argument goes, he himself is one of them (i.e. a muslim) and became a doctor in spite of living in the same discriminating society! Although Aamir loses that verbal debate, he, in the end, wins the ideological debate. Aamir could have left that bomb in the bus as he was asked to do, but he chose not to. In that sense, however limited his options were, he finally chose his destiny. He chose not to become a terrorist and kill innocent people. (That’s the only thing he does willingly in the entire movie.)

This message could be easily extrapolated into the realms of our society. There are many poor, oppressed, discriminated against, subjugated people, but not everyone chooses to take the wrong, negative or destructive path (of robbery, violence, terrorism etc.). However, some do opt for baleful ways to either take revenge or in order to end their misery. But (as I’ve pondered over that earlier here) that can cause a vicious cycle of hate and retributions that can eventually have cataclysmic results for the society.

The circumstances might limit the number of options that are available to you. But it’s YOU who finally make the choice.

The main character is aptly named as Aamir (which means leader). In the entire movie, he had to do what he was forced to do by the kidnapper, but in the end, by doing what he could do (and wanted to do in the given circumstance), he became a true leader. Leader of his own fate, who led his life to a respectable, noble and courageous end.

Update: I just watched Cavite, the Filipino thriller from which Aamir clearly seem to have been… inspired. I wanted to say copied, but I read somewhere that the producers of Aamir have bought “adaptation rights” from the makers of Cavite. If they did that, I am glad and I really appreciate that. But I found huge similarities, not only in the story, but in the screenplay, in locations (narrow alleys in slums, squatter camps etc.) and in the political backdrop (terrorism, muslim/minority oppression). And all of that can’t just be coincidental. I am highly skeptical about (director) Raj Kumar Gupta’s and (creative producer) Anurag Kashyap’s claim that the script of Aamir is original. That’s just hard to believe. Two people could have coincidentally come up with similar stories, but only identical twins who got separated at birth (for a chuckle, see the cartoon below), could have executed the movie in the exactly same manner. I mean, come on!

Changing the end of the movie, and replacing a hand-held (constantly moving) camera with a steady one, don’t make one’s script original. If your movie is an adaptation, get the rights, put a disclaimer at the beginning of the movie, and that’s it. Don’t try to pass it around as an original script (as Anurag Kashyap has done here, co-producer Vikas Bahl has done here, and Raj Kumar Gupta has done here) and hope that we’ll blindly believe you.

Satya - The First Mumbai Noir

It’s been 10 years since Satya redefined the way Bollywood “looked” at Mumbai underworld. It established a new genre in Bollywood - Mumbai noir. Before Satya, most of the movies in which the protagonist has a negative character, showed us an honest, non-violent, Mr Nice Guy, who has a lovely middle class family, a nice girlfriend and lives a simple happy life. Then something really unfortunate and “unexpected” happens and it takes everything he loved away from him (or put it in jeopardy). Hence, he is left with no other choice but pick up and gun to either take revenge or save his helpless family. 

Satya gave us a break from all that cliched nice-guy-harassed-by-society-and-becomes-a-bad-guy theme. Here the protagonist enters the underworld as if he is trying to find a purpose in his life! 

We’re not even told why Satya came to Mumbai or where he came form. Does he have some skeletons in his closet? Does he have a family somewhere? Did he deserted them or did his family threw him out? Why? We don’t know. It’s irrelevant. The movie is not about what happened to Satya, it’s about what happens to Satya after he comes to Mumbai. And probably that’s what made Satya more interesting - the mystery and strangeness that revolves around him. (Director Ramu toys along with the audience about this. Satya is asked many times about his past and his family, but every time, we get vague answers. “Kya faraq padta hai?” is his reply when Bhiku asks him where he came from. “Mar gaye honge shayad.” is what he tells him when he inquires about where his parents are.) We see Satya staring blankly at the ceiling of his tiny flat, and outwards from his window. We wonder what he is thinking about. Perhaps there’s nothing but a vacuum, which will be soon filled with his next door neighbor, Vidya.

While his new friend Bhikhu teaches him how to operate a gun, Vidya teaches him how to smile and love. Satya learns both skills with ease, but we know that he is better at the former. He is simultaneously driven to two separate paths, one can lead to destruction and the other to happiness. Both Bhikhu and Vidya needed Satya. Bhikhu is a hot-tempered don who is no more than a puppet in the hands of don-turned-politician, Bhau. And Vidya is frustrated from her continuous struggle to make a living as a singer in an industry where “Kucch paane ke liye kucch khona bhi padta hai”. Satya completes Bhiku, the don of Mumbai underworld, as he helps him make strategic decisions.(”Hamara fayda unke dar se hai, unki maut se naheen.”) And he also completes Vidya who finds a friend and companion in Satya.

Many dialogues in this movie are aptly written and executed in such a way that it leaves an impact on the audience. (”Ek Jaayega, to sab jaayenge.”, “Mauka sabhi ko milta hai.”, “Karna hai, to karna hai.”, “Kasai bhi bakra tabhi katta hai jab log use khaate hai. Sirf Kasai pe kyon ungli uthaate ho?” etc.) There are some scenes in the movie which exemplifies Ramu’s genius as a director:

- Satya’s first murder

- Satya’s attack on that hafta-wasooli guy with a razor blade

- The sweet scuffle between Bhikhu and his wife

- Bhikhu’s proclamations as “Mumbai ka don” on a seashore rock facing the city (excellent location)

- Amod Shukla’s murder and Khandelkar’s reaction

- Satya’s escape from the theatre

- Bhau’s murder, Mule’s murder

- The final scene

The mood of Satya composed by Sandeep Showta is one of my most favorite movie themes. Ram Gopal Varma once said that Sandeep Chowta understood the character of Satya more than himself. Almost all characters are well defined and well developed. Chakravarty as Satya was a very good choice. The character of Satya needed a new face because strangeness was the main essences of his character. The character grows on you in the movie. Just like the other leads in the movie (Bhikhu, Vidya, Bhau etc.) the audience also looks at Satya initially as a stranger. We learn more about Satya as the other characters in the movie learns more about him. (Contrast this - choice of actor - with the choice of Ajay Devgan to play the character of Malik in Ramu’s other underworld saga - Company. There was no time for building the character of Malik in this movie as the movie was more about the ‘events’ rather than the ‘characters’. So Ramu needed an established actor whom the audience can take seriously from the very first scene.) And then there’s Bhiku Matre. Manoj Bajpai convinces you that no one could have played the role of Bhiku Matre better than him. 

After Satya, there have been many more Mumbai noir movies that followed its footsteps. But any movie that’s based on Mumbai underworld is going to have some inspirations from Satya. In that sense, Satya is to Bollywood what Godfather is to Hollywood.

Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na and Ada - Initial Reaction

I have been listening to Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na and Ada since last two days, and here’re some of my initial thoughts:

Kabhi Kabhi Aditi is a catchy, light and peppy number. I loved it in the very first listen (on the promos). Although Rashid Ali did a commendable job and his voice suits well to the movie’s young and fresh look, I wish Rahman had given this song to Adnan Sami. I think this song belonged to Adnan. (Isn’t Rashid Ali’s singing seem to have inspired from Adnan?) The rationale behind not using Adana though is probably that they wanted to have a new voice for the new face (i.e. Imran Khan) - at least for this ‘opening’ song. 

Rahman has re-used one of his own tunes for this song. The mukhda of Kabhi Kabhi Aditi is same as the guitar interlude in Mustafa Mustafa song from the movie Duniya Dilwalon Kee. I am actually glad that he has done that (i.e. re-using one of his tunes from the interludes of his own song). There are many song by arr which has wonderful instrumental (or chorus) interludes that can be used to create a mukhda of new song (The violin interlude in Ae Ajnabi, Swarnalatha’s humming in Sunta Hai Mera Khuda, chorus from the starting of the song Naheen Saamne etc. etc. etc.)

Jaane Tu Mera Kya Hai conveys the melancholic mood effectively. I liked the version sung by Sukhwinder more than the one sung by Runa Rizvi (which is also very good), mostly because of the opening music/tempo and the operatic chorus in the background that takes it to another level. (The techno beats of Runa Rizvi verion reminded me of songs of Tehzeeb.)

Pappu Can’t Dance has a very catchy tune and feet-tapping beats. However, I don’t think it’s gonna be one of those songs that I will yearn to hear in a way I feel about most (or at least, so many) of arr’s songs.

After a long time, arr gives us a smooth jazzy number, sung by himself, Tu Bole Main Boloon. A very enjoyable track sprinkled with saxophone background and light drum beats. (Is Vennila Vennila from Iruvar the only other jazz song by arr?)

Abbas Tyrewala has done a good job as a first time lyricist (His earlier work includes dialogues for Munnabhai M.B.B.S.). I really liked that he used the immortal lines ’Papa Kehte Hain Bada Naam Karega’, giving a nod to Aamir Khan’s first movie: Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak. (JTYJN is Aamir’s nephew Imran’s first movie.)

Moving on to the other album released simultaneously with JTYJN - Ada.

Rashid Ali’s pronunciations in Ishq Ada sounded a bit weird to me. I think he tried to add an Arabic/Middle-Eastern element to the song - the lyrics, heavy on Urdu words, also confirms this (I hope there’s some relevance to that in the movie.)

All songs except Ishq Ada and Meherbaan are written by Nusrat Badr. I was excited to see his name on album cover because I loved his work in Devdas (after which he almost disappeared). But honestly, I didn’t find anything extraordinary in his lyrics this time.

Gumsum Gumsum sounds infinitely ordinary (by arr standards). If Ada is a musical journey by arr, then this surely is the worst destination. Tu Mera also belong to the same category. (The lines ‘Jise Chaha Mil Gaya’ sung by Chitra reminded me - both lyrically and musically - of similar lines ‘Tu Mujhko Mil Gaya’ from Tera Jaadu Chal Gaya. Vague similarity, though.) 

Meherbaan is wonderful and instantly likable. Hai Dard and Milo Wahan Wahan both are, for the lack of better word, interesting - both in structure and sound, very unlike-Rahman, I think (and hope, even more so) these ghazal-like songs has some ‘growth potential’. Rahman has rarely used Sunidhi before (in fact, only once in Nayak) who joins Sonu Nigam in Gulfisha - another song that didn’t really impress me.

Overall I am disappointed with Ada, and enjoyed JTYJN. As it’s universally known, arr’s songs (specially the “heavy”, deep and long-lasting ones) need repeated hearings and some time to grow on you. Being an ardent arr fan, I hope that it will happen this time too, and my initial assessments will be proven wrong. But deep down, I am skeptical!

Mumbai or Bombay?

 

Vir Sanghvi writes about Marathi chauvinism in his recent column in HT. Now, I don’t always share his opinions, but this article looks interesting to me. Here’s an excerpt:

[W]hether we like it or not, Bombay is not an ancient Indian city in the sense that, say, Delhi is. It is a colonial creation. There is no record of any city on the site of Bombay before the Europeans got here. 

That explains the name. It is generally believed (though there are other theories) that the word ‘Bombay’ comes from a Portuguese phrase which means beautiful bay. This was later anglicised — when the city passed to the British — to Bombay. So Bombay is not a Maharashtrian name. In fact, it is not even an Indian name. And that’s because the city did not exist before colonisation.

So where did ‘Mumbai’ come from? The general view is that it is a corruption of ‘Bombay’. Indians have a tradition of corrupting city names when we use them in different Indian languages.

There are no references here, but the proposition confirms what I knew about the origins of the names.

 

One can think of many such corruptions of city names in India. Like (as Sanghvi mentions in this article) Ahmedabad, is commonly and informally spoken of as Amdavad by Gujaratis. But no one claims that Amdavad is the proper term, and everyone refers to it as Ahmedabad in writing. Bangalore is probably another such dialectical modification of the original name: Bengaluru. 

 

Burma  is another example that comes to mind. John Wells (a professor of Phonetics) wrote about this in his blog: (link)

As we all know, the ruling junta in Burma would prefer that we call their country Myanmar. In Burmese, this name Myanmar is essentially just a variant of the name Burma. It is transliterated as Myan-ma or Mran-ma, and in the local language pronounced something like [ma(n) ma], as against [ba ma] for the traditional name.

 

According to Wikipedia: Within the Burmese language, Myanma is the written, literary name of the country, while Bama … (from which “Burma” derives) is the oral, colloquial name. In spoken Burmese, the distinction is less clear than the English transliteration suggests.

 

Coming back to the Indian context, it looks like politicians are, once again, using this “purification” campaign to incite junta and thus earn political dividends. It looks like the Marathi manoos is falling for that, and the politicians are winning in their unstoppable zest of attaining and exploiting power, once again.