Simbly Bored

It's me that's bored enough to blog. The posts are interesting enough.

Phir Mile January 27, 2010

Filed under: Nostalgia,Randomness,The Way I See It,Too Much Time — The Goddess @ 10:34 pm

Ok, so every Indian who grew up with DD has already ripped apart the new “Phir Mile Sur Mera Tumhara” video. So I don’t have anything wittier or new to say.

But what I can do for my wonderful readers is put together some of the best comments I’ve heard so far…

The makers, Zoom say, “More than 60 of India’s icons have lent their support to this initiative which has taken almost a year to create. It took more than 60 days of on-location shoot, across 15 cities of India, 30 days of post production, 22 of India’s biggest superstars, 18 of India’s best musicians, 13 of India’s best artists and singers, 15 of India’s most renowned icons to create this magnum opus. Each artist speaks of a cause and the video is shot at places which have historical value and significance.”

Evidently, it takes a year to travel by boat from Kashmir (where Rohit Bal is buying spinach) to the Qutub Minar (where the star kid is playing the santoor)

Amitabh Bachchan said,

“People from film industry along with so many other individuals have given their voices to make this wonderful song of India. I am the only person in the song who has a repeat value,”

Does that mean he’s the only one who gets to sing his lines and then say them?

Some latest tweets:

Is there any difference between Om Shanthi Om’s Title track and Phir Mile Sur Mera Tumhara? Could have used that video as well!

I feel so cheated: Zakir Hussain doesn’t shout, ‘Wah, Taj!” at the end of his bit in Phir Mile Sur Mera Tumhara.

Q: Why wasn’t Rajnikanth in Phir Mile Sur Mera Tumhara video? A: Because Rajni ‘Kant’ be seen with ordinary actors!

— could have used more role models and less models

has gotto b d WORST National Integration Project ever! D music itself is SO un-integrated!

What was SRK thinking? He looked as if he was singing to his estranged lover.

Krish Ashok has methodically dissected the video (frame by frame) on his blog here. In his words:

” This 16 minute Bollygasm will put blade like a Kiwi farmer on a sheep during shearing season. It’s a showy, shallow, cringe-worthy, slow-tempo, un-coordinated and unwatchable piece of crystalline Crappium Craptide wrapped in crapé paper.”

Do read the entire post. It’s hilarious.

What do I think? You mean aside from the fact that I’m relieved that I’m not the only one who thought there was too much Bollywood? Well, I’m relieved I’m not the only one who feels some of the actors could lip sync to a national integration type song in a mildly (or very) obscene fashion. It’s nice to know other people feel the video could have been shorter. Everyone I know (including me, of course) feels the video was a joke.

Oh, if you know any kids who’re too young to have seen the original, do them a favour and have them watch it.

But really, I agree most with Greatbong who says:

“Now I wait eagerly for “Phir Baje Sargam Har Taraf Se” with Pritam, Himesh and Rakhi Sawant.”

 

You Know You’re Getting Older When… August 3, 2009

Filed under: My Idea of Humour,Nostalgia — The Goddess @ 8:11 pm

…the items on your shopping list start to have the following key words:

  • Vitamin enriched
  • Anti oxidants
  • Wrinkle fighting
  • High fibre
  • Low fat
  • Low cholesterol
  • Whole grain

…you have any of these songs on your ipod:

  • Kumar Sanu-Anuradha Paudwal duets
  • DDLJ music
  • Cream of Clapton
  • Boyzone, Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls or any of the other 90’s boy/girl bands (that includes Boyzone’s pathetic “Words” cover)

…you find yourself criticizing drivers who:

  • switch lanes without an indicator
  • drive more than 10mph over the speed limit on an empty road
  • honk
  • look like they’re college students

…you vividly remember these Bollywood movies (for good or bad):

  • Mr India
  • Andaz Apna Apna
  • Qurbani
  • Rangeela
  • Raj Hindustani
  • Trimurti
  • Hum Aapke Hain Kaun
  • Jeans
  • Beta

…you watched any of these shows on TV:

  • Ramayan
  • Mahabharat
  • Sword of Tipu Sultan
  • Malgudi Days
  • Karamchand
  • Chandrakanta
  • Zee TV’s Saanp Seedhi
  • Small Wonder

Any others come to mind?

 

What I Really Miss August 1, 2009

Filed under: Nostalgia — The Goddess @ 10:24 pm

This was my farewell lunch from my last day at work…

DSC01520

DSC01521

 

The Great Indian Railways July 15, 2009

Filed under: Little Things,Nostalgia,Personal Favourites,Priceless — The Goddess @ 5:37 pm

You can’t really separate the railways from the food. Most of my memories seem to revolve around food. Read on!

Travelling from Tatanagar to Howrah on the Steel Express eating Jhalmuri. The amazing bhel that came seasoned with mustard oil. It never ceased to surprise me that Nanna didn’t object to the rusty cans the ingredients were carried in, the jalmuri-wallah’s dirty hands or the coriander, onions and lemons chopped with a very suspicious looking knife. But he seemed to feel the need to draw the line somewhere, and that was at the sliver of coconut bhaiyyaji used as a garnish. One of my first acts of “rebellion” as I grew older was to eat the coconut. It was terrible, of course. But I proved a point. I think! 😀

Stopping at Kharagpur and Rourkela stations, we would never miss the puri-bhaji. The puri was fried in oil that no one wanted to learn the origins of in a blackened kadhai perched atop a kerosine stove. The liquid potato curry (the potatoes still had their skins on, of course) would miraculously never drip out of the leaf-cone it was served in. Amma or Nanna would hold up the curry for Annayya and me to dip into. Self-centred brats that we were, we never bothered to ask why they always waited for us to eat first…

As we moved further south, we hit the Vijayanagaram and Vizag stations. There was amazing Mango Jelly and even better milk sweets, pala kova as they were called (Vijaya dairy of course!). The best of all were the packets of buttermilk. Spicy, salty, cool, wet packets picked out of the ice bucket cut open deftly with a small blade (or one’s teeth) and sipped through green, blue and pink straws. No one worried about holding the “cold” packet with a tissue or wiping the water that dripped off the packets (Vizag humidity… Pah!). The clothes just dried by themselves as the train moved on towards more goodies!

At Samalkot station came the meals plate. Who can ever forget the dal/sambar/unknown liquidy substance and the unidentifiable curry and the sour curd that was inevitably part of the meals plate? For some reason, we considered this a treat, growing up!

Then came Rajamundry station with a treat unknown to many children “back in the old days”. Pineapple juice! Fresh pineapple juice poured straight out of the mixie with a foamy top J

The idly wada and the dosa at Vijayawada (and Rajamundry too). The masala chana in the South Indian stations. The biscuits, chocolates and gold fingers. The constant flow of food in the Shatabdi trains. The tiffin dabbas of other families that always seemed so much more interesting… The chicken curry-chapati of Vijayawada families, the idli, curd rice and pulihora from Vizag, the biryani from Hyderabad…

Food just seems to define Indian life. What we eat, when we eat it, how we carry it… It’s all such an intricate web. But nowhere more so than on trains. We inferred so much about a family just from their dabba. How many times did we hear the question “Brahmins aa?” as mom shared out the puri-curry and curd rice in the train? How many times did we whisper under our breath, “They must be xyz (caste, state, religion)” just by observing their lunch?

Train travel was certainly the “national integration” experience the posters said it was!

Watching North Indian women cover their head and knit furiously. Watching the obnoxious traveler occupy half the space of the meek one. Watching students get onto the train traveling to the city nearby where they attended college. Watching little children make friends with each other just as we did as little children ourselves. Listening to the men discuss politics and cricket.

Watching the hills, the rivers, the trees and the villages speed by. Watching little children wave to the train. Reading Tinkle and Chacha Choudhry. Feeling grand and important when Nanna allowed me to accompany him to get water at unknown stations. Looking wide-eyed at the stations around. Listening to Nanna bargain with the coolie and then watch him pay an extra Rs 10 because, “The poor man depends on us to make a living”. Taking an auto to go back home at the end of a vacation and asking the autowallah, “Did it rain recently?”

As I think back, I feel some of the best times we spent as a family were the train journeys we made. On the train, Nanna had no phone to answer, he brought no reports to read, he was relaxed and talked to us about everything we saw. Amma didn’t care what we ate and when. She would eat everything that came along too! There were no rules. We all talked and shared jokes and stories. For the 18 hours or 24 hours or 36 hours it took to get to wherever we wanted to go, it was all about us as a family.

As I think back, I finally understand why my parents continue to travel sleeper class even though they can afford the AC.