Vilakudy Days

The Kerala Moment At Matunga

2009-08-31T10:36:00.000-07:00

Was sauntering through Matunga in Mumbai. The streets wore a festive -- Onam -- look. That is when the Kodak Moment happened. At a nook, everything had a Kerala touch: tender coconut, fresh plantain, kasavu, a smoker despite ban and the ubiquitous wine shop. What was missing then? Perhaps, a Kerala beauty.

DADA: PACK OF WOLVES TASTES BLOOD, FINALLY.

2008-10-07T09:27:00.000-07:00

The wolves have tasted blood. Finally. After lurking around in the wild baying for the Bengal Tiger’s blood, a pack of wolves has finally made him retreat to his den. Every time they kept hunting, Sourav Ganguly emerged from the woods unharmed. But whenever he was hurt, they rubbed salt and found pleasure. Every time Dada’s towering sixes hit the sky, they dug up to unearth chaff. Yet, Sourav scripted a fairytale comeback -- what has been called one of the best comebacks in world sports.

On the course, he took everything in his stride. Not once did he show that it was taking its toll. Every time, he said that there was enough cricket left in him. His bat replied, but it did affect him. His fans and admirers gave up, but he did not. He played some of his best knocks -- and shots, including some imperious pulls off bollers like Nitini -- in Test cricket after his comeback. But the body took its toll. His hair turned grey. Finally on October 8, he proved that he is after all a man in blood and flesh. He decided to quit. At a press conference, in a choking voice, he said the most painful word a sportsperson can utter: quit.

Dramatic you may call, that was over in fleeting seconds. India was shocked. Even my wife, a Rahul Dravid devotee, had tears in her eyes as we stood in front of TV. Channel after channel. Call after call. The news started sinking in. There will be life, cricket, and TV without my dearest Dada at the crease. My mind went blank. I wondered what Rakesh, my friend and a loyal Dada fan, did when he heard the news. I did not call him.
I could not take his grief. Nor did he give a missed call. He was the one who performed some special pujas in or village Ayyappa temple for Ganguly. I know he would have shed a tear or two. It does not matter.

But the pack of wolves must be savouring the blood. Though he did not limp out the way they would have loved, they will sure cherish this long-awaited moment forever. Let their unbridled happiness flows forever till they find another Dada-like human being. There will be no one like Sourav. Here are some who will rub their hands in glee.

Greg Chappell: The happiest man on earth now. The man who entered India on Dada’s recommendation was the first to challenge him. Could not stand up to Dada’s authority and charisma. Chappell thought cricket is football, where coach runs the show. It was cricket, man. The worst allegation Sourav ever faced was by Greg Guru himself: Ganguly is playing for endorsements (read money). That was a hit below the belt. For Chappell’s information, Ganguly’s family (one of the richest in Calcutta) can buy him and his grandfather. Chappell went and came back in new avataar. When Dada finally hangs his boot up in India, he will be there on Indian soil -- this time helping out Aussies on ideas on manipulation.

Kiran More: The pocket-sized obnoxious weed grew into a huge wicked tree. As the selection panel chief, he acted vindictively again and again. Said he, “As long as I am at the helm, there is no future for Ganguly.” There was not. Even when Ganguly was scripting a fairy-tale comeback, More was there on Times Now channel, cribbing and lamenting. More is less, boss.

Rahul Dravid: Don’t get surprised by this name. The unkindest cut of all came from this old roommate, who described Ganguly as the God of off-side. No doubt, The Wall was his best pal in the Indian dressing room and outside. But when captaincy was thrusted upon that frail shoulders, the wicked mind started playing. Insecurity crept in. Journos in the know say the Rahul-Chappel-More trio tried its best to keep Dada away from the India crease. Finally, Dada scored his way to the team, but the relationship was never the same again. Rahuls’ brooding shoulders and body language bore testimony when Dada walked into a practice match in Chepauk before his grand comeback. Pehaps this back-stabbing would have hurt Dada the most. The God of off-side became an omnipresent devil.

M S Dhoni: The ‘globalised’ New India’s favourite cheerleader was plucked and nurtured from a place called Jharkhand. Sensing his talent, Ganguly promoted him to the No 3 slot and Dhoni never looked back. Not even to Dada. For the 20-20 folks, it was Ganguly who spotted him at the nets in Jharkhand and took him to the Indian team. As things turned around, Dhoni became the captain, and he never wanted the Fab Four – including the mighty Sachin Tendulkar –to be in his team. ‘Insecure’ was the word, again. How much ever the new India may hail him, such a parvenu will find an enemy sooner or later. Age was Dhoni's problem. Dhoni’s was thanklessness at its best. Had it not been for Dada, Dhoni may never have achieved what he got now. We never know. Not many know the fact that Dhoni is yet to play a great Test knock. Does the 20-20 generation know that?

Rajan Bala: The fiercest critic of Ganguly, even at his best of times. Not sure why. One of India’s senior-most sports journalists, Rajan Bala spewed venom every time he wrote about Dada. Was a cheerleader of Rahul’s captaincy. Even after Ganguly was out of the race and the team, his campaign continued through his columns in Asian Age and Deccan Chronicle. Maybe, there is a story underneath. The words sounded like swords. Luckily, his articles never appeared in the other side of India.

R Mohan & Vedam Jaishankar: Two South journalists hell-bent on destroying Dada. Article after Article. It was like a campaign to dethrone Ganguly and anoint Rahul Dravid the captain. Maybe, the South connection or the proximity to Rahul. No wonder, the latter wrote a biography on the Wall.

John Cheeran: The man who led the anti-Ganguly campaign in the blogosphere. A Dravid fan, he did on Net what Rajan Bala did in newsprint. I never understood what the real reason was. Posted comments on his blog, but never got a reply. It is long time since I checked his barrages. Waiting to see what he writes about Dada's exit.

Srikkanth: It may again surprise you. Because he selected him for the Australia series amid contradicting reports. It was no doubt a great gesture, but before that there is a long story of hatred while he was a commentator. Let us not scout through the old files. Picking him now was touching. All sins have been washed away in the Hooghly, chikka.

Bishen Singh Bedi: Was ferocious. What made him different was that he never made the articles look biased. Because he always stood out in his criticism -- be it Harbhajan or Murali. Yet, Dada was his favourite whipping boy.

Shiv and Salil: My old roommate and colleague. They had their own stories and arguments. What puzzled me was their refusal to even acknowledge Sourav’s captaincy. He is the best ever we had.

AND: Some who stood by him all through the turmoil.

Arjuna Ranatunga

Geoff Boycott

Sanjay Manjarekar

Ajay Jadeja

Kunal Pradhan, sports journalist

Most of West Bengal (other states should learn to respect its heroes)

Loyal fans, not just from West Bengal, like this blogger.

Tailpiece: When the match-fixing row surfaced, the needle of suspicion fell on every player. When a top bookie was asked if Ganguly had any role in the scandal, he said, "Sir, we wanted him. But nobody had the guts to ask Ganguly whether he could fix matches for INDIA."

The bookie said it all. Need I say more?

HERE AGAIN...

2008-07-28T06:25:00.000-07:00

After an eternity, here is a piece which I wrote for Knol, expecting some discordant notes. HERE IT GOES:

THE ART OF RE-VIEWING

2007-04-27T04:15:00.000-07:00

Reviewing is an art. Especially, movies. A great critique need not be a great filmmaker. In most cases, it is not. In most media organisations, KIDS have donned the critics lobes. Most of them fail to understand what a movie is all about. They just write stories. And the plot – the worst thing one can do to a film. It essentially kills the film. And any interest left in a prospective movie-goer.

Many don’t have even a clue about its cinematic pluses or minuses. Either they get carried by the leading actor and actress. Or by the director. Or by the big production houses. Filmmakers are livid when they read or watch or listen to the reviews. Most reviewers don’t even touch on the direction, or its technicians who would have spent sleepless nights before the movie’s release date.

Take this example. Director Bala, who rewrote the Tamil cinema’s characters, with his brilliant Sethu, Nanda and Pithamagan, told me in an interview that he could not sleep for seven days prior to the release of Pithamagan. The tension was visible on his face though he tried his best to hide it. We had a three-hour chat at his Chennai residence two days before Pithamagan's release. He told me about the perils filmmaking. Though he enjoyed every bit of it, he said, it was too stressful, especially before the release. I could not believe that such a master technician could have such a nervous period. I could understand Bala. I have seen what he did and what he does. Like our Bharatan or the matchless Satyajit Ray, he has drawn the entire scenes on a sheet of paper and made it a log-book. Every frame is a result of a thousand thoughts. Such was his passion to cinema. The Outlook magazine called him Lord of Crypts. Later after the release when I met him, Bala was all smiles – for obvious reasons.
Sorry for deviating from the topic. That is the pain that filmmakers take. It is their blood. So when some kids (some elders as well) who sit in glasshouses tear apart a movie, directors will not agree. And will feel hurt. Of late, the bloggers too toe the line. It is rare to read good reviews.
Which is why when one of my friends Don Sebastian mailed me the afterthoughts of Tamil film, Veyil, I read it with pleasure. To me, it is the best ‘review ‘in recent times. The interesting part is that he did not write the piece for a media (though he works for one) or a blog. He just scribbled it down as self-impressions. The observation of capturing light and the sun-burnt lives was brilliant. And Veyil being a character itself. And the reference to Tornatore's epic Cinema Paradiso. Don said, it is not a review, but just impressions. It was, really.

The review is here for you:

NO word could embody so much of Tamil Nadu as Veyil does. (Veyil is sun, sunrays, light and heat.) When Vasanthabalan chose the word for his debut movie's title, it has to be about sunburnt lives. From the first scene, the movie tries to capture the blinding sun of tropical Tamil Nadu. Light gives birth to photography, but Tamil Nadu's light is a challenge for photographers, who opt for the soft light of Pollachi and Theni.
Virudhu Nagar in southern Tamil Nadu epitomizes everything that puts off cameramen. Barren landscapes, parched riverbeds, dry bushes and an overexposed sky. Still sun and cinema are living characters in Vasanthabalan's movie. Veyilodu vilayadi, Veyilodu uravadi…Muthukumar's theme song and Vasanthabalan's visualization sizzles the air-conditioned auditorium. It's the free, raw, vibrant, innocent spirit of the land.
Consider this fleeting frame: Boys eating stolen corns by the shadow of a lone palm tree.
The tagline says, 'Life journey of two men'. These men raided cornfields, chased moon and bunked class to watch movies as little boys. Adult idealism and corporal punishment followed and the elder brother elopes with his mother's ornaments. Midway, MG Ramachandran's smile waylays him. Here, in a small-town talkies, he finds his destiny. The projector operator is a hero in a land full of matinee idols.
Like all wannabe filmmakers, Vasanthabalan must have dreamt of making a movie like Cinema Paradiso when he was assisting Shankar the director. (Veyil is the third movie from Shankar the producer.) His protagonist Murugeshan travels through MGR, Rajnikanth, Vijayakanth and Karthik. He finds and loses life and love in Kaniappan talkies, like Salvatore in Guiseppe Tornatore's Cinema Paradiso.
The inspiration turned into brilliant evocation of Tamil Nadu's endless fascination with celluloid. Reel and real merge here. Light, like sunrays, creates and manipulates lives. But the movie refuses to rise to the league of Paradiso. True to Indian tradition, the filmmaker kills his protagonist. We still need a death or wedding for a climax of our movies, when the protagonist is not a superman out to eliminate the evil ones.
Yet Veyil lets in the light to the stagnant cinema. Balan joins the league of Thankar Bachan, Cheran and Bala who keep good cinema afloat amid all those hysteric flicks. In a one-liner, the movie may be unimpressive. But the detailing, so true to life, makes it a memorable movie. Pasupathi's Murugeshan, who takes beatings after beatings from life, is a poignant portrayal of longing for love. A man's search for his space in life.
The scene: Pasupathi's Murugeshan hides the soap so that his long-lost mother comes to bathe him. Wonder anyone bothered to depict a grown-up man's yearning to lie on his mother's lap. (Not to forget Ram.)
By DON SEBASTIAN

CAN HE EVER BOWL KERALA OVER?

2007-01-08T09:25:00.000-08:00

The Mid Day, Bombay’s most influential tabloid, ran a front-page headline: “Move over Mammooty and Mohanlal, Sreesanth has arrived.” Ravi Shastri and Harsha Bhogle were heard on TV saying Sree is the most popular Malayalee in Kerala. All this happened after the Kerala speedster ripped through the South African top-order at the Wanderers. I wondered: Was it so? I never knew. Then some of my colleagues started congratulating me on behalf of Sreesanth just because I am from Kerala. They asked me if he was a superstar in Kerala. I said ‘No;. Sreesanth was suddenly the talking point. But frankly, I was not excited. Nor am I a fan of Sreesanth. If I love and admire anyone in this Indian team, it is only one man: the courageous Sourav Chandidas Ganguly. Let me not talk about Dada. No blogger can capture his determination and passion.

Is Sreesanth the most popular Keralite? No. Days after the Wanderers Test, a Malayala Manorama poll named Achutanandan, the Kerala Chief Minister, newsmaker of the year. I was not surprised. Nor did my friends. Many Keralaites (maybe few) whom I talked were not impressed with Sreesanth’s attitude and behaviour. The way he behaves himself at public functions in Kerala left many Keralites completely angry. At a public function, he demanded more security for himself from no less than a DGP, seeking more policemen for his protection. What did he think? Would the crowd have attacked him? No way.
The irony is even in the Indian dressing room, he does not find many friends. Though his performance in South Africa may have changed other players’ perception towards him to an extent, it still lingers. According to a Bombay-based newspaper, Harbhajan Singh, another controversial figure in Indian cricket for his outbursts, gave Sreesanth a dressing down at the dressing room after Sreesanth sledged Sachin Tendulkar and Sehwag in the Challenger Trophy. I don’t know how many people have seen him taking on the “gentleman” Sachin Tendulkar. It was like this: Sachin defended two balls in a row. An excited or angry or arrogant Sreesanth went up to Sachin and mocked at him: “Why don’t you hit me?” Sreesanth, I have seen it, came dangerously close to Sachin, and stared at him. Sachin was taken for surprise. Why the kid is behaving like this? He would have mumbled. The gentleman he is, Sachin remained calm. Sreesanth was inviting trouble. And Sachin let the bat to do the talking. The next ball, Sachin stepped out and hit Sree for a huge six; then went up to him and said, “Don’t ever come this near to me.” Later, he also abused Sehwag, who hit two boundaries off his bowling. He asked Sehwag, “Why don’t you hit boundaries like this in International Cricket? That was a kid asking a great cricketer like Sehwag. In the evening, back in the dressing room, it was Harbhajan who put Sreesanth in his place. He was dropped from the team. According to Bombay sports journalists, it was not purely because of his performance, but on factors like this as well.
Dada was arrogant, but not against his own teammates. He was at his aggressive best against Steve Waugh and Andrew Flintoff. Not against his teammates and not against some tail-enders. Giving the devil its due, in the current form, he is the best bowler in the country after Zaheer Khan. The six priceless wickets at Johannesberg gifted India a rare victory overseas. The ball he dismissed the world’s best batsman Brian Lara in the West Indies tour was a peach of a delivery that took Lara by complete surprise.

Here is another tale. Soon after he got a place in Indian team and tasted the initial success, our man suddenly thought of changing his name. Again according to sports journalists in Bombay, he is obsessed with superstitions. He went and met a leading tarot reader in Bombay and changed his name from Shantakumaran Sreesanth to Sreesunth. He messaged to leading sports reporters in Bombay about his name-change. If you did not notice, he made two minor changes for better luck and prosperity. First, he dropped his father’s name. Then, he changed that ‘a’ to ‘u’. The world was informed through the media, but not his parents. Only when some reporter called up his home to confirm the news, his parents came to know about it. His father reportedly cried and called up his son and asked him to revert to his original name. That is how Sreesunth again became Sreeanth. Even Malayalam daily Mathrubhumi reported the tamasha. Another Kerala scribe tells me how he started ignoring ex-BCCI official SK Nair, who was instrumental in pushing him to the national level , after getting into Team India. That is thanklessness at its best.

Probably, this is why he has not yet been a huge favourite among Keralites. Kerala, I have a feeling, does not like arrogant upstarts like him. Prithviraj, despite his terrific acting skills, is yet to strike a chord among Malayalees. The young suave actor had a vitriolic attack on Mohanlal and Mammooty even before he set his feet firmly on the Malayalam silver screen. Kerala loves open-hearted, less-arrogant, modest, but strong personalities. That is why the affable Achuthanandan, not the powerful Pinarayi, is the favourite politician even at 89. That is also why Mohanlal, at 45 +, remains Kerala’s Numero Uno actor. Sreesanth has a long, long way to go before becoming Kerala’s THE poster boy.

MR SADDAM, WE ARE SORRY

2006-12-31T03:52:00.000-08:00

For once, I felt ashamed of BEING an Indian. On a cold morning while I was still fast asleep, when someone called up me and said Saddam Hussein, the former President of Iraq, not the Iraqi dictator, as foreign news agencies make us publish and believe, was hanged, I could not believe myself. Though the previous day, I read reports indicating his imminent hanging before the New Year. If the execution was sad, then India’s response was shocking. ‘Disappointed’. That one-word was India’s reaction to the murder of Saddam Hussein. Not that a 100-word stinging reaction would have mattered. But that would have made a difference. Saddam died a dog’s death. A man who loved India and Indians. A man who steadfastly supported India’s causes during all major crises. It was only Saddam who came out with open support when the Kashmir issue was discussed at the OIC conferences. He had great respect for the late Indira Gandhi, whom he called the “Iron Lady and “his sister”. Saddam’s Iraq was the only country which stood by India when the Babri Masjid was brought down by a bunch of hooligans. There were no Muslim or Hindu sentiments in that. Iraq was the only secular country, where women partied, wore whatever they liked, watched movies. There was no space for fundamentalism. He loved India. India played safe right from the moment he was pulled out of a rabbit hole by a jackal-supported Kangaroo government. His mock trial continued; he was tortured. India maintained a deafening silence. More than a poor Iraq, we wanted a richer US. Our foreign policy (if any) is in tatters. That is why watched the drama silently. Ordinary men and women shared the pain. But, where was Manmohan Singh? Where was Pranab Mukherjee? Where was the official India?
In Bombay, where I EXIST, nothing happened. Everything was normal. Or they were busy welcoming, partying for the New Year. Or they were busy thinking ways to make more money in the New Year. I was shocked even by the absence of an animated discussion or a serious talk over the execution. But I felt proud of a small state, where I was lucky to have born and brought up, in the tip of our country. It was Kerala, where I LIVE. It again showed the world that it is truly an International state. Whether in maintaining health standards, or in rural development or the human development index. Kerala went into a State mourning when the news was flashed by news channels. The state went into a bandh-like mode. In many places, nobody asked shopkeepers to keep the shutters down. They did on their own. Kerala was seething in anger. The number of calls I got from various parts of the state was a testimony to that. All parties, except the characterless BJP (if at all it can be counted as a party), organized protest marches across the state. George Bush was hanged and burnt in effigy. Everyone shed a tear or two. Fishermen refused to go to sea. Some fishermen dumped back all their day’s rich catch back into the sea in protest. They decided they would mourn their hero for the next four days by not going to the sea. On the famous Saddam beach in Parappangadi, women descended and wailed as if they lost a family member. Shattered Sivasankara Pillai, who had been to Iraq and felt the warmth of Saddam on many occasions, could not even speak on TV. The Citibank outlet in Kochi was stoned. Had there been a US consulate in Kerala, someone would have burnt it down. I wish it were. Unlike its Centre counterpart, the Kerala government lashed out at the US and Bush. Achuthanandan, Kerala’s luminous Chief Minister, led from the front and ripped the US government apart. So many others followed. I always carried my love for India on my sleeves. But this muted, spineless response even after a close friend’s death was a shock to me. Even after death, India owes an apology for that. But I was proud that Kerala did the damage control the way it could. For once, I was proud to declare that I am a proud Keralite than an Indian. Yet, on a larger picture, I bow my head in SHAME.

FREEDOM OF CHOICE

2006-04-02T06:29:00.000-07:00

THE LAST EMPEROR'S WISH
If needed, here is another testimony to India’s hospitality and compassion. After years in exile, the Dalai Lama says he will be happy to die in India. In an interview that covers Tibet to Osama bin Laden, the unflappable Dalai Lama becomes passionate on India and its kindness. He should know. When he was thrown out of China, he was given asylum by the then Prime Minister Nehru as a persona non grata. That was in 1959. Considering the volatile Sino-Indian relations then, it was a highly risky decision by Nehru. Many countries denied entry to him and his followers. But India opened its doors and offered him and his followers an Abode at Dharmasala. Forty-seven years later, the world has changed. But the situation in Tibet has not. One of the most widely travelled persons on this planet, the Dalai Lama knows international realities like the palm of his hand. And when he says India is full of compassion, the world will listen. With the dream of a free-Tibet remains a mirage, he knows his final days will be spent in Little Lhasa in India. It is like a home away from home. A million others, like Chakmas, Bohras and Sri Lankan Tamils, will agree. I stop here; read the simple, but brilliant interview in Daily Telegraph.

DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THIS MAN?

2006-03-31T09:54:00.000-08:00

BUDDHA'S MOMENT OF RECKONING
Ratings don’t matter. He is the best Chief Minister in the country. Defying the sacrosanct politburo, Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee is trying hard to change the face of West Bengal through his pathbreaking policies. I don’t want to call him a reformer. Despite all the fast-track progress he has made, a small trouble is brewing in rural Bengal. The farmers are speaking up. A strong voice of dissent and dissatisfaction is creeping into the Writer’s Buildings. Like his many counterparts, Buddha can’t ignore such voices. The land acquisition for the Salim Group, an Indonesian firm, has ruffled many feathers in rural Bengal. Farmers are worried of displacement. The Salim Group, amid much opposition, is going ahead with four projects: a health city, knowledge city, an SEZ and an Express Highway. The investment will change the face of South 24 Paraganas- one of Bengal’s most backward districts. I completely back Buddha on the project. But on the way to development, he has to tread a cautious path. The controversy is brewing over the acquisition of nearly 5,000 acres of land in a compact block. Critics accused the state government of reneging on its pledge to improve the lot of small and marginal farmers and sharecroppers. It could prove disastrous. My memories went flooding back to Andhra Pradesh. Years ago, its then Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu has learnt the rural lessons in a hard way. The media, especially English language ones, created a halo around him and termed him the best chief minister. Naidu, who had a humble beginning, rose to dizzying heights after his blue-eyed Hyderabad-centric projects hogged international limelight. In some interviews, he conveyed across a message saying that he would rather listen to Washington (US powercentre and World Bank headquarters) than New Delhi. He made more visits to the US and other countries than trips to New Delhi. His agendas were international. Hyderabad, not Andhra Pradesh, was gleaming on the world map. The World Bank, the Asian Development Bank, Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, McKinseys…….all premier institutions and personalities came calling to Cyberabad. Undoubtedly, he changed the face of Hyderabad in 10 years. But there was another face of Andhra Pradesh, which everyone blissfully pushed under the carpet. About 77 per cent of the population fell beyond the poverty line. Jobless workers moved to Bombay in hordes. Hundreds of farmers committed suicide. The crops started withering. Naidu was busy entertaining the Other World. The media wishfully stayed away from the parched realities beyond City Limits. India Today rated him the best chief minister of the country. The other side was completely ignored. The farmers’ deaths and their million problems were dumped in brief columns. Only some “anti-development” journalists like P Sainath travelled beyond that 20-km dreamland. The Hindu, probably the only paper, devoted its space for the rural realities. Left in the lurch, the poor was waiting to strike. Waiting for the next elections to make their voice heard. Those who were basking in the glory of a Shining Hyderabad- mostly IT and corporate men- did not cross the road to vote. But just 20 km away from the bluechipp-ed city, lakhs of farmers, probably nothing else to do, did cross and exercise their franchise. The result was disastrous. The Indian Express, the country’s most vocal pro-reform newspaper, and a staunch Naidu supporter, flashed a sarcastic headline. Naidu= Cntrl + Alt+ Delete." The political requiem was complete there. So was the fancy story.
Naidu was thrown out by the people. In his moment of ignominy, no none was there. The English media quickly deserted him and wrote editorials on the way he neglected the rural AP. He was painfully alone. No Bill Clinton. No World Bank. No Tony Blair. Naidu quietly went to the US for a political hibernation. He paid the price. That was that.
The story is different, though in West Bengal. The biggest advantage for Buddha is that the Opposition there is in tatters. Mamata’s Trinamul is a joke. The Congress just exists. The BJP is virtually non-existent. Even a last-minute Mahajyot alliance- like the last time- were to be cobbled up, it will not be a force to reckon with. But Buddha should be careful. The people, the supreme force, are watching. No force on earth can stop the will of democracy. I don’t want Buddha to go Naidu’s way. Never ever. He is probably the most promising chief minister West Bengal has ever had. He is, perhaps, the only person capable of bringing back a declined Calcutta to its glorious past. But that should not be at the cost of rural development. Every farmer’s issue has to be addressed. If a farmer will not be addressed in a Communist Bengal, it is less likely to be addressed elsewhere. Buddha is a hope for not just Calcutta. Not for CPM. He is the guiding light of West Bengal and a prime-ministerial material.

PALESTINE PACKS THE PUNCH

2006-03-29T11:26:00.000-08:00

WHO WILL PICK UP THE PIECES?
The Palestinian package, aptly titled ‘Dreams of a Nation’, came as a real humdinger at the ongoing Mumbai International Film Festival. The aspirations of a nation thinking of peace and a world without war and calamities were pictured in a poignant way by Rashid Masharawi and Michel Khleifi, two of the most-celebrated filmmakers there. While Rashid’s Curfew – the first-ever movie shot at Gaza Strip – narrates a 24-hour curfew period, his Haifa deals with the psychological and emotional impact of the Israeli occupation. The other movies were Canticle of Stones and Tale of Three Jewels. Though places like West Bank and Gaza Strip are always in news, the world will be shocked to watch the state of affairs there. The first shot of Gaza in Curfew left me dazed: it looked like Dickensian slums. From a top-angle shot, it looked like Dharavi. The films’ documentary narrative is fully justified as it throws open a hitherto unknown facets to the world. Cuddled under dilapidated structures, a generation lives and yearns for a country of their own. From the films, I learnt, the radio is the most important possessions of a Palestine family. Every crackling on the radio is being listened with hopes of a landmark peace deal in Tel Aviv or Washington. Not a day passes in the ‘self-administered’ Palestine without staccato of Israeli gunfire, which packs hospitals with paraplegics. Despite such lugubrious clouds hanging over their nationhood, it was heartening to know from the movies that they all have a common passion: football. And they all loved, respected and trusted only one leader: the late Yasser Arafat. Arafat has gone and Hamas has taken over the reigns. But the idea of Palestine, and the country, lies in ruins.

BEYOND BOLLYWOOD
The ‘Indian Vista’ evoked mixed reactions. Though there were not many takers for
films other than Hindi, the regional movies presented a different picture. Achuvinte Amma, the first Malayalam movie to have screened, should not have screened at the festival. It is an ordinary, but popular film. Another Malayalam movie, Daivanamathil, directed by national award-winning director Jayaraj, deals with the contemporary state of Kerala Muslims. While a section of them has taken to terrorist activities especially in the aftermath of Babri Masjid demolition, many of them advocate a peaceful coexistence and root for a secular India. The efforts of a young educated Samira with the help of a liberal grandfather to bring her husband back from the brink of puritanical fundamentalism are reflective of the progressive outlook of most Muslim families in Kerala, where they constitute a major percentage of the population. Producer and scriptwriter Aryadan Shoukath, a Muslim himself, had earlier written for Padam Onnu Oru Vilapam (Lesson One: A Wail). And that was much powerfully conceptualised. In a land of Kunhalikutty (accused in a sex scandal) and Madani (accused in Coimbatore serial blasts), Kerala needs more Shoukaths.

LATAJI, YOU CAN LEAVE BOMBAY

2006-03-26T09:15:00.000-08:00

THE VOICE AND VOICELESS

Again, the Peddar Road flyover issue is on the boil. A day after the Maharashtra Government decided to go ahead with the project, residents are up in arms. And unlike many voiceless citizens, an illustrious daughter of the place has taken the protest-chorus into a new pitch. Furious, Lata Mangeshkar has threatened that if a flyover comes up, she will leave the city soon. This happens when personalities grow higher than the State. Sachin Tendulkar did it when he sought tax exemptions to import his Ferrari. My initial impression was that she might lose her flat once the flyover came up. I was wrong. The maximum damage, it does, will be that it affects her privacy. Imagine this happens in a country where millions had been thrown out - euphemistically called displaced – when dams and such ambitious projects are constructed. When the poor get ‘displaced’ without alternative measures, there are not many voices in support. They are poor and voiceless; Lata is the Voice and rich. Incidentally, it was the same day a feeble voice called Medha Patkar met the Prime Minister seeking his intervention in the resettlement and rehabilitation and of those displaced by the Sardar Sarovar dam across the Narmada in Gujarat. In a time where newspaper spaces are being sold, The Hindu front-paged the feeble voice.

Coming back to Peddar Road, it seems Lata had threatened to stop singing when the controversy happened last time. The project did not take off. And she kept singing. Now, she threatens to leave Bombay. But this time, the flyover is all set to take off. And Lataji, you can start packing the bags and cassettes. You may be a great singer and the Voice, but on a larger picture, you are another citizen of India. Just another citizen.

GLIMPSES OF WORLD'S REALITIES

2006-03-25T04:35:00.000-08:00

BOMBAY TO ISRAEL- A JOURNEY ACROSS OCEANS

I am seeing the world. From South Asia to West Asia to Europe to Latin America. Film festivals offer glimpses of world culture. That is why I love International Film Festivals. It is your door to the world. It gives you the humanity on a platter. Not just places. Every country comes calling. Not just nations. Its culture. Its life. Its idiosyncracies. Its foreign policy. And, more importantly, the way a country presents itself to a world beyond its shores.

That is why I don’t want to miss International Film Festivals. The Bombay International Film Festival is finally (that is a different story and a different piece) here. This is my fifth such festival and the first one in Bombay. Having seen four world-class festivals in Trivandrum, its Bombay counterpart offers nothing much. It may be a harsh comment, but if one goes by the first three days' movie list, it is palpable. The packages and the audience speak for itself.

Even the opening film, The Chorus, a French Film, was a damp squib. The film, which narrates the story of a proctor at a correctional boarding school – something like our juvenile homes- failed to portray the chemistry between the ‘supervisor’ and students. Stuffing the movie with top-angle shots and camerawork added to the misery. In any case, it does not deserve the feat of being the opening film. An awful beginning, indeed.

The second day offered nothing more. If ever a movie can be judged by the first 10 minutes, then Ruchi Narain’s Kal was a big disappointment. I walked out in a huff and was relieved to learn from the audience later that the movie was a flopshow. My media friends told me Dombivli-Fast, a Marathi movie, that captures the city's lifeline (should I explain?), had taken them on a nostalgic trip. But I missed the train.

My search for a meaningful cinema ended with Bar Mitzwa, an Israeli film. A diligenty meshed film, it narrates a middle-class family's- which lives on the Israel-Lebanon border- troubled existence in harrowing circumstances. The camera travelled with the movie, unobtrusively. A football-crazy boy, sporting a Ronaldinho-style hairdo, turns out to be the best character in the movie with his visionary outlook. Maybe, the director wanted to show the world that there is hope in the GenNext of Israel, at least.
I hate Israel for everything it does. Or whatever it does not. Though occasionally I tried to understand how it could survive amid such unfriendly neighbours. And I always looked to that country through the hazy prism of its foreign policy. Never did I think about such families, who bear the brunt of any policy decisions. That is the impact a film can have on you. The boy's Bar Mitzwa celebration sermon left me in tears. The concluding line was visionary: “Let Israel be the most peaceful place on earth.”
I wish it were. If that happens, not just Israel, the entire West Asia, will embrace peace. Let violence come down from the Golan Heights and takes its stripes off at the Gaza Strip. Thousands of miles away, I burn a small candle for that ever-lasting peace. Amen.

MR KURIEN, YOU ARE GANGULY NOT TENDULKAR

2006-03-21T04:44:00.000-08:00

LEAVING UTTERLY AND BITTERLY

It is a sad end to a great career. I shed a tear or two for Mr Verghese Kurien, who was unceremoniously booted out of an institution which he had nurtured and literally made from the scratch. If India is the world’s largest producer of milk, then the credit should go to him. Inspired by him during my college days, I even wrote the entrance of IRMA (Indian Institute of Rural Management) at Anand. Needless to say, I failed. I still remember one incident where he tore apart the high-flying IIM-A pass-outs. He told a stunned IIM audience, where he was an invitee for its annual convocation, how uncommitted and useless the students passing out from the institution were.
He said, “You talk of service. I will give you more salary than what you would get with a multinational. My only rider is that I will not let you see the face of a city for a year. Will you see the country, where it exists.No, not at all.” That was Mr Kurien.
Coming to the headline, when a reporter asked him if he felt like Ganguly or Tendulkar after the ordeal, Kurien said, “Tendulkar."
No Mr Kurien, you are not Tendulkar. You are Ganguly. Both had been given the boot by their own institutions (Team India was an institution and an idea Ganguly almost single-handedly made) by their own protégés. I know very well that the two can't be compared. Mr Kurien achieved more than what Ganguly did, by any means. But it is an attempt to compare. If anyone objects, I agree with them.
Rahul Dravid can’t be entirely made responsible for Ganguy’s exit from the team. But he was a silent party to it. When Chappel was hell-bent on removing Ganguly from the team, Rahul Dravid did not do anything to prevent it. He could have. He was shrewd enough to not to take a stand: he wanted Ganguly, but was afraid of Chappel to speak up for his long-time friend, and his trusted captain for many years. In Mr Kurien’s case, Amrita Patel has backstabbed Kurien. At least, Patel, told a hurriedly called press conference that it was a SAD end. In Dravid’s case, it was left with a deafening silence. Even when Chappel told Guardian that Ganguly clung to captaincy, Dravid kept his silence.
We have to learn to respect our heroes. Today, people forget yesterdays with an eye on “their better” tomorrows. Behind every success, there were days of hardwork. It is high time we remembered our old heroes. Like Ganguly, Kurien was very cautious when he met mediapersons. In an interview to HT, he said he did not want to involve farmers in the controversy because he felt the situation might get volatile. That shows his sincerity.
When Kolkata called for a bandh and series of protests after his ouster, Ganguly was firm. He said, ''Indian cricket is bigger than players and coaches. Let us not rake up controversies."
Both really care for their institutions, no matter whether they are in or out. Mr Kurien, you will be remebered as long as milk is there. You have changed many lives, and created a revolution. Now you sit back and relax. Take this as a blessing in disguise. Now the world, particularly our neighbours, need your expertise.Contribute to a Milky Way.

IS TIME RUNNING OUT FOR SACHIN?

2006-03-19T06:33:00.000-08:00

END-ULKAR?

16, 23, 19, 14, 23, 26, 16, 28, 4, 1……….This is the world’s best batsman’s scores after that world record-breaking century. Ganguly was under fire for not performing. Then what about Sachin? And finally, the pressure is now on Sachin. He was booed off by his own Wankhede crowd. Unimaginable, that is the word. Will they drop Sachin? No. Ganguly was given the boot by More and co with the blessings of Greg. Sachin will stay as long as he wants. That is Indian cricket for you.

MILOSEVIC LOVED INDIA

2006-03-19T05:18:00.000-08:00

To say the least, Slobodan Milosevic died a dog’s death. History will record him as a Butcher of the Balkans. Whether he deserves to be called like that is a different story and argument altogether. But, it is interesting to know from Sunday Express that he loved India and Indians. In fact, he named India as his second choice—after Russia—for treatment for his ailments. That is India for you. Known outside as the land of Bapuji, we are considered as one of the most-peace-loving countries in the world. Our hospitality is well known. Ask Dalai Lama and a million others. Only Express can spot such stories and then front-page it. Kudos.

THE CRYING BUDDHA

2006-03-18T07:08:00.000-08:00

IS PINARAYI KERALA’S BUDDHA?

Kerala, they say, never exists in the country’s political map. Kerala shares its 15 seconds of limelight in the National media through ayurveda, tourism, the tag of the most-literate state (no more it is). And it is one of the states where the Communists still have a strong presence. A correspondent of a national daily tells me that he is “tired’’ of doing stories on the same topics again and again. Then, for the last two months, there is Sreeshant (not Sreesunth).
Now out of the blue, the media has found a whipping boy in Achuthanandan, the 83-year-old Marxist warhorse, which was tipped as Kerala’s next chief ministerial candidate. Suddenly, things changed. VS, as he is fondly called, had lost out to the Pinarayi Vijayan group and the party has decided not to field him in the elections. There comes the story: as many as three National dailies have written editorials on the issue arguing that a hardliner like VS has been thrown out of Kerala’s CPM’s poll race by a reformist Pinarayi Vijayan. The Lutyen’s Delhi’s armchair journalism is at its best here. The English media is known for taking stands without bothering to find out the ground realities. The Express, which usually carries reliable stories and still remains one of my favourite papers, has compared Pinarayi Vijayan to West Bengal Chief Minister Buddhadeb Bhattacharya. This will be the biggest insult- the insult by US ambassador David Mulford looks much smaller- on Buddha in his life. Those who follow the Kerala politics seriously know what Pinarayi is made of. VS, for that matter, has toured across the state and knows the state like the palm of his hand. Whereever there were serious issues where the common man was affected, VS was there. From Wayanad to Parassala, he was in the forefront of not just party’s agitations, but problems faced by the common man. Cutting across political lines, he has been termed the most sincere leader in Kerala now. And his palms are not greased. Pinarayi was always considered as a party strongman in the politically volatile Kannur. There his job was to take the RSS, a very strong force in Kerala, head-on in the political battles. Let there be no doubt about it, there he was highly successful. That was limited to Kannur alone. But there ended his contributions to CPM and Kerala. And there are various allegations against him over the years: a Congress leader himself has accused him of taking Rs10 crore from K Karunakaran, now out of the Congress and formed a new party, to include him in the Left Front. And then the Lavlin case. Calling Pinarayi a reformist of Buddha’s credibility and stature is blasphemous. The reformist tag could have been attributed to S Ramachandran Pillai, Thomas Issac or MA Baby. (But Buddha is class apart, one can’t draw comparisons from Kerala). But they should have checked. And it was silent on the widespread protests by VS followers on Thursday and Saturday. Even channels like CNN-IBN carried such protests extensively.
The HT was no better. It labelled VS as a dinosaur. At least, its Kerala correspondent has been writing very balanced reports since the controversy erupted. Not that he is the perfect candidate. Not that VS will become the best chief minister Kerala has ever had. But given the options and names, he is the best and only man to do the job in CPM now. If he can't, then no one can't.

ISRAEL A ROLE-MODEL?

2006-03-17T07:59:00.000-08:00

Yes, it can be. According to BJP's new president Rajnath Singh, Israel can be a role model for youngsters. Why? He should have explained. Was it because it is a permanent threat to Muslim countries in West Asia? What does he mean by cultural nationalism?

THIS IS NOT MARXISM

2006-03-17T02:55:00.000-08:00

PERHAPS, the CPM in Kerala is going through its darkest phase.
VS Achuthanandan, the common man’s quintessential leader and long-time chief ministerial candidate, has been given the boot by the party politburo. To say the least, the decision to deny him a seat in the Assembly polls is shocking. The party should have faced the polls by projecting VS, as he is fondly called, as the CM candidate. The party may argue in a cadre-based party like CPM, it is party ideology that does matter. But here the ideology has been sent for a toss. The 80-plus leader is considered as the most sincere leader of the CPM in Kerala now. People, across party and caste affiliations, admire VS. He is a man known for his stern (if this is hardline, then let it be) stands: he was against forging an alliance with old warhorse K Karunakaran; he was against including the Muslim League; he was against incorporating R Balakrishna Pillai into the LDF foray. He basically stood with the common man. And he was omnipresent: he travelled through the breadth and length of Kerala for cementing the party.(All the THREE elements can be put into one basket called opportunists to the core and no character of their own). He is definitely not a hardliner as Express wanted the rest of India to believe. Express, known for its courage of journalism, is 'manufacturing images' against a grassroot leader. He remains the party’s most sincere leader. By this move, the CPM has dug its own grave in the coming elections, which could have been a cakewalk for the Left. Keeping VS away from the poll scenario will be disastrous. There have been unprecedented violence and protests across Kerala since Thursday against the politburo decision. The "reformist" (Pinarayi a reformist....it is a joke; what does he reform?) Pinarayi Vijayan, the man behind the ouster of VS, may be laughing. But at what cost? Paloli, the party’s chief ministerial candidate, is a nice man, though. But he will be remote-controlled by Pinarayi. And that is what he wants. But not the Keralites. They may opt Chandy again. That will be suicidal for CPM.

NUKE SIGNS

2006-03-10T06:43:00.000-08:00

India is basking under the world spotlight of the nuclear deal which it has recently signed with the US. But the euphoria may not last long as it needs to be cleared by the Congress. More and more persons and media organisations are coming out against the deal and urge the Congress not to "pass the test". Read what the most- revered The Economist has to say:

CHAPPELL STOOPS TO CONQUER

2006-03-02T05:02:00.000-08:00

From under-arm bowling to below-the-belt comments on Ganguly, Chapell stoops to conquer.

It has been a long time since I blogged. Not that it is something earthshaking. But there are lot of things happened which I strongly felt about. Like the Bush visit, and the subsequent nuclear deal. Sad, but India is getting dangerously close to the US, especially after the UPA Govt came to power. But Bush says times have changed. So do things. But when it comes to Pakistan, things have not really changed for the US. Its Cold War ally remains still an ally. That, too, despite being ruled by a dictator like Musharraf. When it comes to Israel also, things have not really changed for Uncle Sam. It is all double standards. Nothing else. There is no character.

For Bush, at least, he says the times have changed. But for a man, who is obsessed with Ganguly, he is showing that nothing has really changed. Again and again. Though he really achieved what he wanted: removing Ganguly from a team he has nurtured and made. Still the man, who has asked his brother to bowl under arm in an international match, shows the real character now. In an interview to Guardian, a paper revered across the world, he says Ganguly stuck to captaincy for his financial gains. This is really the limit.

Again, Chappell is ignorant. He does not know Ganguly's financial positions. Of his royal background. Of his family. And of course his talent. And that he owns Asia's biggest printing press. If exaggerated, he can buy Chappell himself. It is high time somebody (BCCI, Indian Government) gagged him. There is a LIMIT.

Hindu Under Fire

2005-12-02T05:41:00.000-08:00

ALLEGATIONS FLY THICK AND FAST: It is sad rather shocking to read and hear from the blogging community that one of the best writers of the Hindu has been accused of lifting an article from NYT. Gautaman Bhaskaran, one of the best film critics in the country, has apparently or allegedly in journalistic terms lifted an NYT review and published in the prestigious columns of Hindu. Plagiarism is not new in journalists' circle. From the famed V N Narayan to all those little souls who hog the featurish limelight.
Having said that, he should not be treated like this. He has written some of the brilliant pieces for Hindu in the last two decades. Along with Gowri Ramnarayan (my favourite art and film writer), they have taken the Friday Review to another level. And Bhaskaran has written several pieces on Indian Cinema, which he could not have taken from NYT. Let us also not forget his past contributions. Let us not see him through the dark glass of plagiarism. And for heaven's sake, don't blame Hindu for carrying the piece. It has to trust its employees.

THE GREATEST LIVING INTELLECTUAL

2005-10-31T06:26:00.000-08:00

NOAM CHOMSKY needs no introduction. His dissent against the US imperialistic policies has caused ripples across the world. He has offered the rest of the world and the US administration in in particular glimpses of the other view of the American population. What the US does according to its whims and fancies has no approval of the entire population. Chomsky, a linguist, has toured worldwide protesting the US attacks in Afghanisthan and Iraq. His was the most powerful dissent voice. The last time, when he came to India, I remember, he had got a rousing reception. From Delhi to Madras to Kerala. In Madras, the Music Academy Hall at Mylapore was brimming with listeners. And in Kerala he was given a red carpet welcome given its Communist leanings. Some of the questions by listeners left Chomsky amused. In Delhi, at JNU, he would have got a even better audience, who might have understood every word of what he said. Every word counts. That is why he has been voted recently as the greatest intellectual in the world.

Here I am downloading an article from The Guardian. Don’t just read. Read and Think. Because he is one of the very few people who can make you think.

NOAM CHOMSKY — THE GREATEST INTELLECTUAL ON EARTH

Despite his belief that most journalists are unwitting upholders of western imperialism, Noam Chomsky, the radical's radical, agrees to see me at his office in Boston. He works here as a professor of linguistics, a sort of Clark Kent alter ego to his activist Superman, in a nubbly old jumper, big white trainers and a grandad jacket with pockets designed to accomodate a Thermos. There is a half-finished packet of fig rolls on the desk. Such is the effect of an hour spent with Chomsky that, writing this, I wonder: is it wrong to mention the fig rolls when there is undocumented suffering going on in El Salvador?
Ostensibly I am here because Chomsky, 76, has been voted the world's top public intellectual by Prospect magazine, but he has no interest in that. He believes that there is a misconception about what it means to be smart. It is not a question of wit, as with no 5 on the list (Christopher Hitchens) or poetic dash like no 4 (Vaclav Havel), or the sort of articulacy that lends itself to television appearances, like no 37, the thinking girl's pin-up Michael Ignatieff, whom Chomsky calls an apologist for the establishment and dispenser of "garbage". Chomsky, by contrast, speaks in a barely audible croak and of his own, largely unsuccessful, television appearances has written dismissively: "The beauty of concision is that you can only repeat conventional thoughts." Being smart, he believes, is a function of a plodding, unsexy, application to the facts and "using your intelligence to decide what's right".
This is, of course, what Chomsky has been doing for the last 35 years, and his conclusions remain controversial: that practically every US president since the second world war has been guilty of war crimes; that in the overall context of Cambodian history, the Khmer Rouge weren't as bad as everyone makes out; that during the Bosnian war the "massacre" at Srebrenica was probably overstated. (Chomsky uses quotations marks to undermine things he disagrees with and, in print at least, it can come across less as academic than as witheringly teenage; like, Srebrenica was so not a massacre.)
While his critics regard him as an almost compulsive revisionist, Chomsky is more mainstream now than ever as disgust with the Bush government grows; the book he put out after the twin towers attacks, called 9-11, sold 300,000 copies. Given that until recently he worked full-time at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, there remain suspicions over how he has managed to become an expert, seemingly, on every conflict since the second world war; it is assumed by his critics that he plugs the gaps in his knowledge with ideology.
Chomsky says this is just laziness on their part and besides, "the best scientists aren't the ones who know the most data; they're the ones who know what they're looking for."
Still, of all the intellectuals on the Prospect list, it is Chomsky who is most often accused of miring a debate in intellectual spam, what the writer Paul Berman calls his "customary blizzard of obscure sources". I ask if he has a photographic memory and Chomsky smiles. "It's the other way round. I can't remember names, can't remember faces. I don't have any particular talents that everybody else doesn't have."
His daily news intake is the regular national press and he dips in and out of specialist journals. I imagine he is a fan of the internet, given his low opinion of the mainstream media (to summarise: it is undermined by a "systematic bias in terms of structural economic causes rather than a conspiracy of people". I would argue individual agency overrides this, but get into it with Chomsky and your allocated hour goes up in smoke). So I am surprised when he says he only goes online if he is "hunting for documents, or historical data. It's a hideous time-waster. One of the good things about the internet is you can put up anything you like, but that also means you can put up any kind of nonsense. If the intelligence agencies knew what they were doing, they would stimulate conspiracy theories just to drive people out of political life, to keep them from asking more serious questions ... There's a kind of an assumption that if somebody wrote it on the internet, it's true."
Is there? It's clear, suddenly, that Chomsky's opinion can be as flaky as the next person's; he just states it more forcefully. I tell him that most people I know don't believe anything they read on the internet and he says, seemlessly, "you see, that's dangerous, too." His responses to criticism vary from this sort of mild absorption to, during our subsequent ratty exchange about Bosnia, the childish habit of trashing his opponents whom he calls "hysterical", "fanatics" and "tantrum throwers". I suspect that being on the receiving end of lots "half-crazed" nut-mail, as he calls it (he gets at least four daily emails accusing him of being a Mossad agent, a CIA agent or a member of al-Qaida), has made his defensive position rather entrenched. Chomsky sighs and says that he has never claimed to have a monopoly on the truth, then looks merry for a moment and says that the only person who does is his wife, Carol. "My grandchildren call her Truth Teller. When I tease them and they're not sure if I'm telling the truth, they turn to her and say: 'Truth Teller, is it really true?'"
Chomsky's activism has its roots in his childhood. He grew up in the depression of the 1930s, the son of William Chomsky and Elsie Simonofsky, Russian immigrants to Philadelphia. He describes the family as "working-class Jews", most of whom were unemployed, although his parents, both teachers, were lucky enough to work. There was no sense of America as the promised land: "It wasn't much of an opportunity-giver in my immediate family," he says, although it was an improvement on the pogroms of Russia, which none the less Chomsky can't help qualifying as "not very bad, by contemporary standards. In the worst of the major massacres, I think about 49 people were killed."
The house in Philadelphia was crowded, full of aunts and cousins, many of them seamstresses who weathered the depression thanks to the help of the International Ladies Garment Union. Chomsky was four years old when he witnessed, from a passing trolley car, strikers outside a textile plant being beaten by the police. At 10 he wrote his first political pamphlet, against the rise of fascism in Spain. "It was all part of the atmosphere," he says.
The Chomskys were one of the few Jewish families in an Irish and German neighbourhood, and Chomsky and his brother fought often in the street; he remembers there were celebrations when Paris fell to the Germans. His parents kept their heads down and until their deaths, he says, "never had an idea of what was going on outside".
Chomsky had a choice of role models. There was his father's family in Baltimore, who were "super-orthodox". "They regressed back to the stage they were at even before they were in the shtetl, which is not uncommon among immigrant communities; a tendency to close in and go back to an exaggerated form of what you came from." He smiles. "It's a hostile world."
Or there was his mother's family in New York, who crowded into a big government apartment and got by solely on the wages of a disabled uncle, who on the basis of his disability was awarded a small newsstand by the state. Chomsky chose the latter and his radicalism grew out of the time he spent, from the age of 12, commuting to New York at weekends to help on the newsstand.
"It became a kind of salon," he says. "My uncle had no formal education but he was an extremely intelligent man - he'd been through all the leftwing groups, from the Communists to the Trotskyists to the anti-Leninists; he was very much involved in psychoanalysis. There were a lot of German emigres in New York at the time and in the evening they would hang around the newsstand and talk. My uncle finally ended up being a pretty wealthy lay analyst on Riverside Drive." He bursts out laughing.
It was a time, says Chomsky, when no one knew what was going to happen. They discussed the possibility of a socialist revolution, or of the country collapsing entirely. Anything seemed possible. Compared with these sorts of discussion, he found high school and, later, college, "dumb and stupid". He was thinking of dropping out of the University of Pennsylvania when he met his second mentor, Zellig Harris, a linguistics professor who encouraged him to pursue his own academic interests. Chomsky had grown up in a household where language was important; his parents spoke Yiddish and his father wrote a PhD on 14th-century Hebrew, which the young Chomsky read with interest. And so he pursued a study of linguistics and many years down the line formulated a ground-breaking theory, that of "universal grammar", the idea that the brain's facility for language is innate rather than a function of behaviourism. It sounds to me as if he was an arrogant young man who thought, with some justification, that he knew more than his teachers. Chomsky bridles at the word arrogant and says: "No. I assumed I was wrong and took for granted that the standard approach [to linguistics] was correct."
Even though he went on to study at Harvard, he still, in a rare concession to the romance of outsidership, describes himself as "self-taught".
There were only a couple of years in the mid-1950s when he gave up activism altogether. He had met and married Carol Schatz, a fellow linguist, and they had three young children. Chomsky had to choose whether to commit himself to activism or to let it go. The Vietnam war protests were getting under way and, if he chose the former, there was a real danger of a jail sentence, so much so that Carol re-enrolled at college in case she had to become the sole breadwinner. But Chomsky was not, he says, the sort of person who could attend the occasional demo and then hope the world would fix itself.
"Yeah, my wife tried to talk me out of it, just as she does now. But she knows I can be stubborn and that I'll carry on with it as long as I'm ambulatory or whatever."
These days, Carol accompanies her husband to most of his public appearances. He is asked to lend his name to all sorts of crackpot causes and she tries to intervene to keep his schedule under control. As some see it, one ill-judged choice of cause was the accusation made by Living Marxism magazine that during the Bosnian war, shots used by ITN of a Serb-run detention camp were faked. The magazine folded after ITN sued, but the controversy flared up again in 2003 when a journalist called Diane Johnstone made similar allegations in a Swedish magazine, Ordfront, taking issue with the official number of victims of the Srebrenica massacre. (She said they were exaggerated.) In the ensuing outcry, Chomsky lent his name to a letter praising Johnstone's "outstanding work". Does he regret signing it?
"No," he says indignantly. "It is outstanding. My only regret is that I didn't do it strongly enough. It may be wrong; but it is very careful and outstanding work."
How, I wonder, can journalism be wrong and still outstanding?
"Look," says Chomsky, "there was a hysterical fanaticism about Bosnia in western culture which was very much like a passionate religious conviction. It was like old-fashioned Stalinism: if you depart a couple of millimetres from the party line, you're a traitor, you're destroyed. It's totally irrational. And Diane Johnstone, whether you like it or not, has done serious, honest work. And in the case of Living Marxism, for a big corporation to put a small newspaper out of business because they think something they reported was false, is outrageous."
They didn't "think" it was false; it was proven to be so in a court of law.
But Chomsky insists that "LM was probably correct" and that, in any case, it is irrelevant. "It had nothing to do with whether LM or Diane Johnstone were right or wrong." It is a question, he says, of freedom of speech. "And if they were wrong, sure; but don't just scream well, if you say you're in favour of that you're in favour of putting Jews in gas chambers."
Eh? Not everyone who disagrees with him is a "fanatic", I say. These are serious, trustworthy people.
"Like who?"
"Like my colleague, Ed Vulliamy."
Vulliamy's reporting for the Guardian from the war in Bosnia won him the international reporter of the year award in 1993 and 1994. He was present when the ITN footage of the Bosnian Serb concentration camp was filmed and supported their case against LM magazine.
"Ed Vulliamy is a very good journalist, but he happened to be caught up in a story which is probably not true."
But Karadic's number two herself [Biljana Plavsic] pleaded guilty to crimes against humanity.
"Well, she certainly did. But if you want critical work on the party line, General Lewis MacKenzie who was the Canadian general in charge, has written that most of the stories were complete nonsense."
And so it goes on, Chomsky fairly vibrating with anger at Vulliamy and co's "tantrums" over his questioning of their account of the war. I suggest that if they are having tantrums it's because they have contact with the survivors of Srebrenica and witness the impact of the downplaying of their experiences. He fairly explodes. "That's such a western European position. We are used to having our jackboot on people's necks, so we don't see our victims. I've seen them: go to Laos, go to Haiti, go to El Salvador. You'll see people who are really suffering brutally. This does not give us the right to lie about that suffering." Which is, I imagine, why ITN went to court in the first place.
You could pick any number of other conflicts over which to have a barney with Chomsky. Seeing as we have entered the bad-tempered part of the interview, I figure we may as well continue and ask if he finds it ironic that, given his views on the capitalist system, he is a beneficiary of it. "Well, what capitalist system? Do you use a computer? Do you use the internet? Do you take an aeroplane? That comes from the state sector of the economy. I'm certainly a beneficiary of this state-based, quasi-market system; does that mean that I shouldn't try to make it a better society?"
OK, let's look at the non-state based, quasi-market system. Does he have a share portfolio? He looks cross. "You'd have to ask my wife about that. I'm sure she does. I don't see any reason why she shouldn't. Would it help people if I went to Montana and lived on a mountain? It's only rich, privileged westerners - who are well educated and therefore deeply irrational - in whose minds this idea could ever arise. When I visit peasants in southern Colombia, they don't ask me these questions."
I suggest that people don't like being told off about their lives by someone they consider a hypocrite. "There's no element of hypocrisy." He suddenly smiles at me, benign again, and we end it there.
EMMA BROCKES/ THE GUARDIAN

HOPE FROM LATIN AMERICA

2005-10-30T02:28:00.000-08:00

THIS MUST BE GREEK AND LATIN TO UNCLE SAM
In an increasingly globalised world - read Americanised world- it needs COURAGE to stand up against the self-claimed sole world super power in any partof the world. Iraq and Afghanistan have learnt it the hard way. Possibly, Syria and North Korea will have a taste of the super power effect sooner or later. But a small country, that too under the nose of the US in Latin America, is standing up against the US and fighting a lone, worthy battle. The man, who leads the way with his unique policies, is none other than Hugo Chavez.
The above listed article taken from the NEW YORK TIMES proves that Chavez is here to stay. And he has arrived on the world stage.

HUGO CHAVEZ – MARCHING AHEAD

Firmly in power and his revolution now in overdrive, President Hugo Chavez
is moving fast to transform Venezuela's economy by bucking free-market planning with what he calls 21st-century socialism: founding state companies, seizing abandoned private factories and establishing thousands of cooperatives and worker-run businesses.

The populist government is reorganizing the country's colossal oil industry, taking a bigger share from private multinationals. Planners are reorganizing the banking system, placing stringent restrictions on lending while creating state banks. Venezuela is also developing a state-to-state barter system to trade items as varied as cattle, oil and cement as far away as Argentina and as near as Cuba, its alley.
"It's impossible for capitalism to achieve our goals, nor is it possible to search for an intermediate way," Mr. Chávez said a few months ago, laying out his plans. "I invite all Venezuelans to march together on the path of socialism of the new century."
According to many mainstream economists, the change is simply a mix of plans taken from the protectionist policies of the 1960's and others adopted from Cuba and countries of the former Soviet bloc. It may not be communism - as detractors contend it is - but it mixes socialism with capitalism and what some call improvisation.
Many of the president's grandest plans are put into practice at the year-old Ministry for the Popular Economy. Planners there have already created 6,840 cooperatives that employ 210,000 people nationwide, many producing for the state.
The banking system is crucial to the government's plans. Regulators tightly control interest rates and demand that private banks devote 31.5 percent of all loans to agricultural projects, housing construction, tourism and microcredits, loans to tiny startup businesses.
The new measures - which include the seizure of factories, mines and fields the government says are unproductive - are playing well domestically. Mr. Chávez has an approval rating topping 70 percent.
"I'm not afraid of socialism and never have been," said Rivas Silvino, who works in a diaper factory run by workers and managers under a state co-management plan. "The world is afraid. I say, don't be afraid."

So far, no noticeable exodus of foreign companies operating in Venezuela has occurred. Banks and oil companies are making record profits thanks to oil prices that have left the country, the world's fifth-largest exporter, awash in petrodollars. This year, the oil industry is generating $20 billion for the government, nearly $8 billion more than last year.
Still, there is restlessness in the boardrooms, with executives worried about government intervention, which is sometimes seen as haphazard and improvised. Economists say the government has not made the investments needed in the oil sector. And political analysts and mainstream economists warn of recession and dourly note that foreign investment is about a third of what it was five years ago. They say that Venezuela's vast oil profits give the illusion of prosperity - the economy's growth rate is 9.3 percent - but that if prices fall, or Venezuela's growing spending catches up, the economy could founder.
Domingo Maza Zavala, the director of the Central Bank, warned of recession as soon as 2007. "There is uncertainty and instability because of the strategies being used by the state," he said in an interview. "If there was a strategy, defined, well established and clear and with objectives, this would create a climate of confidence that could generate a recuperation of investments."
In the tumbledown barrios where Mr. Chávez draws much of his support, it is easy to see why the new system has been warmly welcomed. The hills around Caracas and the farms in the outback are filled with cooperatives and other businesses in which the state plays an important role. Workers produce everything from shoes to corn.
Aura Matos, 28, is a seamstress in a state-run textile factory that sells to the state, a job she has held just a few weeks. "I was in my house, with nothing to do, and President Chávez and God gave me this opportunity," Ms. Matos said as she took a break from sewing jeans and blouses.
One of the government's most ambitious ventures is a new state airline, price $110 million so far. The airline, Conviasa, now has three planes, which regularly serve Bogotá, Havana and other nearby destinations. It plans to expand to 14 jets in about a year and travel as far as Beijing and Europe.
What about competition in this cutthroat industry? "The philosophy is not to compete, but to cooperate with other airlines," said Wilmer Castro, who as Venezuela's tourism minister oversees the airline. "Our policy is to have fares that are lower than the others in the market."
Another project gives workers a stake in the ownership and management of tottering private companies. In return, management - made up of the original owners and the workers - receives government credits and other incentives.
"The businesses closed by the neoliberal system - factories and farms - are reopening, but it's done by the people," said Elías José Jaua, minister of the popular economy. "This is a state that has the duty to push and support this."
The state is also founding a mining company, an iron and steel company, a tractor factory and a state computer company, which Mr. Chávez says will produce "Bolivarian computers" in honor of his guiding light, the 19th-century independence hero Simón Bolívar. The government has even spoken about acquiring nuclear technology from Brazil and Argentina - emphasizing that it would be for peaceful purposes, like energy production or medical care.

WAS GOENKA A BJP MAN?

2005-10-23T05:33:00.000-07:00

Seems like. Hindustan Times editor Vir Sanghvi reviews a book on Ramnath Goenka by BG Vergehese. Here is the piece.

In the 1970s, when my involvement with journalism was largely restricted to seeing the press from the perspective of a reader, there was no doubt in my mind that Ramnath Goenka, the Indian Express’s feisty proprietor, was one of the good guys.
In those days, people like myself tended to judge journalists and their proprietors on a single criterion: where did they stand on the Indira Gandhi issue? For many of us, Mrs Gandhi was, indisputably, A Bad Thing. She had subverted democratic institutions, imposed an Emergency, censored the press, locked up the Opposition, foisted Sanjay — her thug-like son — on the country and sought to centralise all power within her office.
This consensus — even more popular within the liberal elite in those days than the secular consensus is today — governed our views on everyone and everything.
And, judged on this criterion, Goenka was a hero. He had seen through Mrs Gandhi as early as 1971 and had encouraged Frank Moraes, his editor, to oppose her even as Indira-mania swept India. He had offered support and shelter to Jayaprakash Narain (JP) during the movement for Total Revolution. And, during the Emergency, he had fought the might of the Establishment in the interests of press freedom.
By the 1980s, when I became a full-time journalist, I had begun to question my early judgement of Goenka. I first met him in 1981 when he offered me a job which I was unable to accept and, by 1984, knew him quite well on a personal level. I would often go to the Express penthouse at Bombay’s Nariman Point for lunch or dinner and he was kind enough to drop in at my home. On one memorable occasion, he even attended a large party for my wedding anniversary where he grinned wickedly as members of Bombay’s then nascent social scene (this was before the invention of Page Three) fawned over him.
In 1990, when my son was born, he was gracious enough to phone to offer his congratulations and laughed uproariously when I told him that the infant, with his tight, pinched baby’s scowl, was a dead ringer for the elderly Ramnath Goenka. They say, in England, I told him, that all new-born babies look like Winston Churchill. We should say, in India, I suggested, that they all looked like Goenka. He was good enough to find this remark — which, in retrospect, I probably should not have made — hugely amusing.
And yet, he never offered me a job again. Even if he had, I doubt if I would have taken it. When you know somebody on a personal level, you get a better sense of what they really think. With Goenka, there was no doubt that he saw most journalists (with some exceptions such as S Mulgaokar) as playthings. He had no respect for professional integrity, regarded most of us as “unscroopoolus” people (which was a bit rich, coming from him) and enjoyed his power to appoint, transfer and sack his editors. Of one of his more famous Punjabi editors, he would say “Saale ko angrezi nahi aati hai” (I’ve cleaned up the quote — Goenka was very big on bad language).
He hired the gentle and thoughtful Darryl D’Monte to run his Bombay edition before also hiring his cousin Dom Moraes to run the Express’s Sunday magazine. Moraes and his wife Leela were frequent dinner guests at the penthouse and, according to Dom, Goenka would begin each conversation with “Sack Monto” — he never quite got his tongue around “D’Monte”. Later, he would describe D’Monte, who is an environmentally-conscious liberal, as “a bloody commie”.
Amazingly enough, in that era, the public at large did not hold his mistreatment of editors against him. Nor did anyone seem to care that he had no time for many of the basic rules of journalism. He would cheerfully use the paper’s news columns to promote his own personal agendas. He would bypass the Express’s journalistic establishment to plant articles written by a coterie of non-journalists to whom he was personally close. BG Verghese recalls being asked to carry an anti-Ambani piece under the by-line of JD Sethi, a Planning Commission member who had clearly not written it. When he refused, Goenka asked that the piece be carried under a generic byline (“By a Correspondent”).
Nor did Goenka make any pretence at objectivity. In the days when I knew him reasonably well, he suddenly turned against Dhirubhai Ambani whom he had, till then, described as his close personal friend. It was not as though Goenka had been unaware that Ambani bent the law to make money (Goenka’s own record in such matters suggests that he himself was no JRD Tata) and, in fact, he would often speak admiringly of Ambani’s many fiddles.
But then something — nobody knows exactly what and even his biographer is not sure — went wrong and Goenka turned against Dhirubhai. “Everybody rapes the system but this man wanted to make it his mistress,” was the only explanation I ever heard him give.
This was fair enough. There’s no doubt that the Ambanis were breaking the law and a good newspaper must expose scams. Except that Goenka went out of his way to not only consort with Ambani’s business rivals but to also claim that he was acting to protect Nusli Wadia, then Ambani’s principal competitor. “Nusli is an Englishman. He cannot handle Ambani. I am a bania. I know how to finish him,” he told me.
The Express’s campaign against Reliance was not run by the paper’s staff but by a small coterie consisting of S Gurumurthy, Goenka’s accountant and advisor, Wadia, Maneck Davar, a journalist who was not on the Express’s rolls, Jamnadas Moorjani, a businessman opposed to the Ambanis and by assorted non-journalist friends and allies of Goenka’s.
In this day and age, it is hard to imagine any proprietor getting away with using his newspaper in this manner, running a personal campaign against somebody on behalf of a business rival without the involvement of his own staff. And yet, in the 1980s, that’s precisely what many people admired Goenka for doing.
Finally, the Reliance campaign was to prove his undoing. Far from being the shrewd bania who would finish off Dhirubhai, Goenka was outwitted by Dhirubhai’s young sons (the father was in San Diego,
recovering from a stroke) who manipulated the situation so skillfully (with the help of forged letters) that a battle between Goenka/Wadia and the Ambanis turned into a national crisis that pitted Rajiv Gandhi against VP Singh (and Goenka). Once this war got underway, the Ambanis simply stepped aside.
Goenka did not realise how cleverly he had been outwitted. His response was to turn against Rajiv instead (which is exactly what the Ambanis wanted him to do) on the grounds that the government was not doing enough to penalise Reliance. After that, the Express lost all sense of proportion. Sleazeballs and racketeers like Chandra Swami
became fixtures at the penthouse, Gurumurthy and Mulgaokar consorted with President Giani Zail Singh and ghost-wrote a hostile letter to the Prime Minister on his behalf, thereby crossing all lines of journalistic propriety. (The Express ran the Mulgaokar-Gurumurthy draft of the President’s letter as a scoop, not realising that Zail Singh had made changes to the letter before sending it to Rajiv. The government then raided the Express guest house in Delhi’s Sunder Nagar and found the original draft with corrections in Mulgaokar’s handwriting.)
By 1988-89, Rajiv’s government retaliated with a series of unnecessary prosecutions. While this response did Rajiv no credit, it also turned the Express into the centre of all opposition to the regime. It ceased to function as a newspaper in any significant sense of the term and became an anti-government pamphlet.
Even then, Goenka retained his iconic stature because, to many people, he seemed to be replaying his heroic defiance of the Emergency regime. (And there’s no doubt that the Congress government behaved disgracefully again.) What people missed was that under this cover of defiance, Goenka was busy putting together a new Opposition alliance. His chosen candidate was VP Singh (who had been part of the anti-Reliance campaign) but Goenka’s real loyalty was to the Jan Sangh/RSS/BJP. His role was to bring the RSS/BJP closer to VP Singh.

Ironically, were Goenka to be around today then many of those who, like myself, admired him in the 1970s because we subscribed to the anti-Congress consensus, would disapprove of him on equally simple-minded grounds. Today, the ruling liberal consensus is secular and there’s no doubt that Goenka and the Express were actually the fore-runners of the BJP’s ascendancy in the 1990s. Or that Goenka was not above using RSS cadres for such commercial purposes as breaking strikes at the Express.
Goenka’s best friends were Nanaji Deshmukh and the Rajmata of Gwalior, both RSS-types. His chief advisor was S Gurumurthy, who is proud of his RSS links. His doctor and advisor was JK Jain (of Jain TV fame) who is hardcore RSS. His most famous editor was Arun Shourie, who later became a BJP minister. His lawyer was Arun Jaitley, who served VP Singh’s government in a legal capacity but found fame as a BJP minister. And the politicians whom Goenka was closest to were nearly all from the BJP.
Did Goenka run a battle against Rajiv on behalf of the BJP? It would make for a neat conspiracy theory but I don’t think there was any grand design to his activities. In 1984, he was ready to end his opposition to Indira Gandhi, calling her “a devi” (Verghese quotes me on this conversation in the book) and by 1985 was singing Rajiv Gandhi’s praises (“I will die a happy man knowing that India is safe in Rajiv’s hands...” etc).
My view remains that the old man was simply outwitted by the two Ambani boys (then in their twenties!) who managed to make Rajiv believe that Goenka’s real agenda was not Reliance, but a coup at the Centre which would result in VP Singh taking over.
Rajiv was politically inexperienced so he was easy to manipulate. But Goenka, who regarded himself as a master manipulator, should have known better. However, rather than see through their game, his first reaction was to lash out in anger. In the process, the Ambani conspiracy theory fulfilled itself. The Express conspired with the President against the Prime Minister, it launched scurrilous (and frequently baseless) attacks on the likes of Amitabh Bachchan and Sonia Gandhi, and eventually, it acted out the Ambani script to the letter by making VP Singh its candidate for PM (only to turn against him when he finally got the job).
At nearly every level, Goenka’s campaign was a failure. The Ambanis are much bigger — and much more legit — than they were in those days. Wadia is much more successful now that he’s not fighting political battles. And the Express’s journalistic credibility was needlessly compromised. Even when a scoop that damaged the Rajiv government did emerge — the Bofors papers — it was The Hindu that got it. The Express’s sole contribution was to try and embellish the Hindu’s scoop with stories that were either speculative or plain wrong and owed their origins to the likes of Chandra Swami.
It is to BG Verghese’s credit — and to today’s Indian Express, given that this is an authorised biography — that he is scrupulously fair. He leaves very little out even when it does not show Goenka in a favourable light. Though he writes with no obvious affection for his subject, he also writes with admiration.
And certainly, there was much to admire in Goenka’s life. At a personal level, I found him warm and human. He demonstrated great courage in the face of odds that would have destroyed a lesser man. He often showed great loyalty to his friends (including the Rajmata of Gwalior and Nusli Wadia).
But his greatest achievement was that he existed at all. Like William Randolph Hearst or Lord Beaverbrook, he was an old-style press baron obsessed with politics and power, impossible to suppress but with an ego that was also impossible to repress.
All this made him one of the great figures of 20th century India. What it did not make him was a force for good journalism. The Indian Express under Shekhar Gupta is a far fairer, much better paper than it ever was under Goenka.
Anyone interested in India in the second half of the 20th century must read this book. Verghese is fair, truthful and always readable.

INDIA ON THE MOVE

2005-09-26T04:01:00.000-07:00

You can take Indians out of India. But you can’t take India out of Indians.
It is not just a heart-on-the-sleeve slogan. Most of the Indians really mean it. A recent survey by the BBC World Service and Gallup International commissioned to take views of more than 50,000 people in 68 countries found that a significant 34 per cent of Indians identified themselves as Indians. Most of the Indians said it was the defining point of their identity and that Indianness was most important to them. Only 8 per cent of Pakistanis said they identified themselves as Pakistanis. While a mere 19 percent in India said religion was their main identity maker, an astonishing 59 percent of Pakistanis said religion was their most important identity.
For India as a nation, it could perhaps be one of the most defining moments as well. Over the years, the idea of India has evolved itself.
Literally, India was born in darkness. At the stroke of midnight hour when the world was sleeping, India woke up to freedom. The West greeted an inchoate democracy with distrust by predicting a catastrophic future for India. No country with such an amorphous mass, an alarming growth rate and often under threat of succession could remain as a single unit. Instead, it handed out a carte blanche to a homogenous Pakistan. Things went the other way. Pakistan and several post-colonial Third World countries were plunged into crisis after crisis. Drowning the incipient doomy theories in the Indian Ocean, India sailed ahead.
Fifty-eight years later, the West learnt that India has indeed arrived on the world stage. Introducing Prime Minister Manmohan Singh to his wife, President Bush in New York said, “He is the Prime Minister of the world's largest democracy in which there are 150 million Muslims. Not one of them has joined al-Qaeda.’’
As often said, it is not just cricket and Bollywod that bind India. More than that, it is the idea of India that binds us as a nation. To paraphrase Suketu Mehta’s Maximum City, “101 out of 100 in India are cheaters. Still my India is the best.”

Rajaneesh Vilakudy

HARBHAJAN—GANGULY’S MAN OF THE MOMENT

2005-09-25T08:44:00.000-07:00

Friends in need are friends indeed. Harbhajan should know. That is probably why the outspoken Sardar, who was groomed by his Dada, has spoken again. Unlike some of his colleagues, whom Ganguly has plucked from nowhere and nurtured, Harbahajan returned his gratitude. That too when Ganguly was going through his worst-ever crisis period. There are plenty of others, whom Dada has groomed from boys to grown-up men. But when they grew up, they had their own ambitions. Take Mohd Kaif.
Ganguly never dropped Kaif despite being failed for so many occasions after the Natwest win. Dada was his biggest supporter whenever in need. Ideally, he should have been the first one to come out in support. Instead, somebody who has gratitude did. More and more will speak out sooner or later. Because it is due. Chappels will come and go. Gangulys have to stay. Not for a South Indian lobby or for a Bombay lobby. For India. —RAJANEESH

HERE GOES AN AGENCY STORY
HARBHAJAN SLAMS CHAPPEL
Embattled skipper Sourav Ganguly on Sunday found support in off-spinner Harbhajan Singh who credited him for the success of the team and accused coach Greg Chappell of creating "fear and insecurity" among the players.
The first player to speak on the controversy which has engulfed Indian cricket, Harbhajan slammed the "double standards" of Chappell while hoping that the entire issue is resolved at the earliest.
"Whenever any controversy surrounds the team, the performance is adversely affected. It will be good for the team if the controversy is immediately resolved so that every player can concentrate on his game instead of getting mental tension," the off-spinner said.
Asked about Chappell's charge that Ganguly was not physically or mentally fit to be in the team, Harbhajan said it may be the coach's own observation but as far as he was concerned, Ganguly has been an excellent captain, which was evident from his match winning record.
Harbhajan also rubbished the allegation that Ganguly was interested only in captaincy and creating differences among team members.
"I have played for almost five years under the captaincy of Ganguly and never felt like that. In fact, he takes personal interest to boost each and every player during practice as well as during a match.
"Ganguly has rebuilt this team and whatever the team has achieved so far, credit goes to the captain."
Harbhajan said there was "fear and insecurity" among the players as they were apprehensive about airing their personal views or suggestions even in the dressing room.
"(The coach's conduct) can create fear among players over asking any suggestion on his weakness from the coach, who may take it as a complaint against him to the Board."
He also said Chappell's apparent patch-up with Ganguly on one hand and shooting off a letter to the Board complaining about the skipper on the other, reeked of "double standards".
"Not only me but no other player was aware of Chappell complaining against Sourav. We were all shocked to know about the issue after landing in India.
"After the controversy over Chappell's reported suggestion to Sourav to step down from captaincy, everything seemed normal as Chappell himself had said the controversy is over and now everyone should concentrate on the game," he said, adding, "I don't know what prompted Chappell to send an e-mail to the Board against the captain".
"As far as I am concerned, as a senior member of the team, I will reveal the truth if the Board asks for the same. I have lot to reveal about the Zimbabwe tour but I will do so only at the appropriate time and at an appropriate level."
Harbhajan said that he had come to know from his friends that Chappell had accused him of underperforming deliberately under Rahul Dravid's captaincy during the Sri Lanka tour.
"Chappell's remarks were an attempt to create a rift between me and Dravid, for whom I have great regards. His (Chappell's) remarks made me tensed.
"It affected my performance in Zimbabwe tour as well. I could not concentrate on my game due to immense pressure that if I commit any mistake, the coach will definitely make it an issue against me," Harbhajan said adding that even now he could not come out of the mental trauma caused by Chappell's remark.
"I am unhappy and disturbed because I am the kind of person who would die rather than deliberately not play well as cricket is not just a game for me. It is like worship."
Harbhajan was also skeptical about the coach's observations on the attitude of some of the players saying everything could not go wrong suddenly and attitudes of players also could not change overnight.
He said the hype over the rumblings in the team was "disgusting" but "as far players are concerned, they are all united and looking forward to prove their mettle in the World Cup 2007.
On suggestions in a section of the press that he had some differences with Anil Kumble, Harbhajan said "Kumble is a very good friend of mine and I know him for the last eight years. There were attempts to create differences between us but we are both mature enough to understand all this.
"Kumble is a player who has always supported me as his younger brother and I have great regards for him. Where is the possibility of having any differences with him?"
Asked to compare former coach John Wright and Chappell, he said in a lighter vein, "anybody can judge it from the on-going controversies".

IS THE BROADSHEET DEAD?

2005-09-19T07:45:00.000-07:00

The Guardian, one of the most respected and largest selling dailies in the world, has gone for a make-over. Probably, the market realities forced the paper to abandon the broadsheet – the very symbol of a mainstream respected paper.
The make-over from a broadsheet to mid size or what it is called as Berliner edition, is an attempt to recapture the diminishing circulation of the paper. In the process, this blogger believes, Guardian has thrown up many questions. Is this really the beginning of the end of broadsheet? Its editor declared on the eve of the new-look paper’s launch that the concept of broadsheet was dead. What does that mean? If the Guardian decides to abandon its format, does that mean it is the end of such a format? Guardian, let there be no doubt, is one of the best papers in the world. But that never does mean the format which it has been following is wrong or dead.
The decision follows a change in format of The Times and Independent. And despite its brilliance, other papers have eaten into its circulation and the gap has come down to as close as 77,000. Maybe, it has no choice but to follow the market rule. It would have been nice had it remained the same and recaptured the market and reinvented itself. YET, that doesn’t take the credit away from the new product. It is nice to hold, difficult to put down. The tabloid edition, euphemistically called compact, will be a hit with the young generation, in particular. The sports pages are sporting in a five-column grid. The world may soon follow the Guardian experiment, which has already been a rage in Europe. The Guardian effect may have its ripples in India. Some of the top newspaper editors in the country are self-confessed fans of the paper. It deserves every bit of the recognition and fan-following. That makes Guardian the Guardian. But as a serious newspaper reader, I sincerely hope the change will not have any effect on its content. Then Guardian will be the master of words again.
rajaneesh vilakudy

A REVIEW OF GUARDIAN

2005-09-19T05:00:00.000-07:00

I'm pleasantly surprised by the amount of column inches and airtime a redesign of a national is getting. Not only do we see a change to full colour, but an entirely new format for British Newspapers and a entirely new grid system design and typeface. Pretty much everything then.
There are several things which will upset people straight off with this new design. First of all is the Masthead.
The Masthead
The original Guardian Masthead, designed by David Hillman in the 80's, clearly communicated the paper's 'brand'. Elegant Garamond mixed with with a hard, emotionless Helvetica. Traditional broadsheet values with left-wing modern thought. You knew what you were getting yourself into (which is why I don't generally read the Guardian).
The new Masthead still retains the visual separation of the 'the', although only in tone this time. It's set in the new Guardian typeface, the rather unimaginitive named 'Guardian Egyptian', which I feel brands the paper as more middle of the road. There certainly is less distinction now with other mastheads such as the Independent or The Times.
The Colour
Not much to say on this really. The paper is now full colour, which is great and will hopefully see an improvement in the photography as a result. In fact, in the centre spread of this mornings edition, there is a full colour spread of just one photograph which does look fantastic.
The Typeface

Up until yesterday The Guardian used a mix of three typefaces - Helvetica, Garamond and Miller. Today, the paper uses just one - the newly designed Guardian Egyptian.
I think I'm a bit sad to see Hillman's inspirational typographic design go. I'm not the biggest fan of the paper in terms of content, but the design was always fantatsic. Really great typographic design. The new typeface is ok, although some of the letterforms in the lighter weights bug me, such as the lowercase c (there's a strange bulging going on). The heavier weights however look really good. Clearly legible at very small size and obviously designed to take into account the poop paper quality and a certain amount of bleed from the ink. A sharp looking serif, modern and very legible.
Overall, I like it.
The Size
Now this is the thing which is causing the biggest upset. For many years The Guardian was a broadsheet. Now if you talk to a broadsheet paper journalsit they often get a strange look in their eyes when discussing this paper format. The Broadsheet is steeped in history, and I for one hope it doesn't go away entirely. But. Broadsheet papers are a pain to read, wherever you are. Even on the couch.
Over the past few years a few of the broadsheets in the UK, most famously The Times, have moved to a tabloid format for the daily (the Sunday paper is still Broadsheet) and as a result has seen their circulations rise whilst the Broadsheet papers (The Telegraph and The Guardian) has seen their circulation fall.
So, the Guardian has decided to go smaller, but not Tabloid. They've decided to use the Berliner, or Midi, format. The format is about as wide as a Tabloid, but taller. I think one of the major reasons for this was to set The Guardian apart from the competition, to give it a different feel (possibly to distract from the watered down redesign). Also, I feel this gives The Guardian a more European feel as there are a few papers on the continent which use this format (Le Monde in France and La Repubblica in Italy).
The Grid
With a new size, comes a new grid. The Guardian sports a clear 5 column grid which is certainly a lot clearer than the old broadsheet grid. The column measure is slightly wider, which lets the new typeface breath a little. I feel the majority of broadsheet column measures are just too thin, this new design seems just about right.
Overall Impressions
A little watered down design wise, certainly not as distinctive as before. Great to see full colur. Like the new size although it's a shame that we see another broadsheet disappear.

Mark Boulton is an award-winning typographic designer based in Cardiff, UK. He reviews the new-look Guardian.

THE NEW-LOOK GUARDIAN

2005-09-19T04:56:00.000-07:00

THE END AND BEGINNING OF A NEW ERA

The Guardian newspaper has relaunched with a new size and a new look, becoming the first national paper to print in a mid-size format.
The size, part way between a tabloid and a broadsheet, is known as the Berliner, and is used by many papers in continental Europe. The redesign also sees every page being printed in colour. The relaunch aims to win back readers who moved to the Independent and Times when they changed to tabloid format. Both papers began printing in a tabloid format in 2003, and eventually abandoned broadsheet editions altogether.
Radical change
Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger said Monday's change, which also includes a new masthead and typeface, was a "radical one". "The change from broadsheet to the so-called Berliner format has led to a thorough re-evaluation of most of the things we do, both editorially and commercially," he said. "No newspaper ever stands still. But this change is, by any standards, a radical one.""The challenge for us was to remain true to our journalism, now attracting a record worldwide audience online, while at the same time finding a modern print format for a new generation of readers in this country. "We believe we've found it with the Berliner format, which combines the portability of a tabloid with the sensibility of a broadsheet." The relaunch has taken 18 months of preparation at an estimated cost of £80m. The company has bought three 44m (144ft) German printing presses to print in the new size.

SILVER LINING

2005-09-09T05:29:00.000-07:00

INTERVIEW WITH BLESSEY, DIRECTOR OF MALAYALAM MOVIE KAZCHA

By Vilakudy

When first-time director Blessey was filming Kazcha in the verdant backwaters of Alappuzha, he was actually swimming against the tide. The Malayalam film industry was then blindly aping its counterparts in the neighbouring states. But thanks to Kazcha, which tells the story of an orphaned boy’s encounter with a village cinema projector, the tide has turned in good cinema’s favour. Released in August, Kazcha has won rave reviews and is a runaway hit, thanks mainly to its star Mammooty. “Mammukka’s (as Mammooty is fondly called) positive reaction to the script gave me confidence. Not only did he agree to act, but he also wanted me to write the script,” says Blessey. And after many years, the Malayalees have taken a movie into their hearts. “Yes. That was exactly what I wanted. To bring back the family audience to theatres. Bring back the discerning audience.” Blessey was assistant to an array of directors for 16 long years before he himself became one. He says, “My apprenticeship under the late Padmarajan (a rage in Kerala, remembered for his screenplays) was the best.” That — and his being a voracious reader, a fan of R K Narayan’s Malgudi Days and Malayalam writer N S Madhavan’s When Big Trees Fall — is probably why a man who had “not even written anything in a college magazine” finished half his script in just five days. Today, the script of Kazcha has been made into a book even before the film completed 50 days, a first in Malayalam cinema history. Critics and the common man alike have seen shades of Padmarajan in Kazcha, in the brilliant characterisations of Mammooty and Yash (the boy). Blessey says this is a huge compliment, but denies imitating the master. “It’s not imitation. There was never a deliberate attempt to copy him. Maybe, it comes naturally.” Or maybe from his meticulous preparation. For Kazcha, he made all the artists attend a five-day workshop, even shooting many scenes then for the perfection he wanted, something unprecedented in Kerala. So does he identify himself as a serious filmmaker? “I am for good cinema. Let there be no classifications. Actually, I am against the whole concept of art films. The so-called advocates of art cinema have spoiled films and the industry. They kept the audience away by making complicated movies that people could not understand.” Instead, he adores Satyajit Ray for his “perfection”, Akira Kurosowa for his “depiction of strong cultural stories”, Bharathiraja for “the folk-ish images” and the “great Padmarajan for everything he did”. Blessey’s challenge now is living up to the reputation of his first film. The famous poet Balachandran Chullikkadu told him, “Your first movie will be your biggest enemy.” Two months from now, he will be working on his next project. Let the poet’s words not be prophetic.

Published in a leading newspaper's Sunday edition on December 3, 2004.

Maximum City, Minimum Life

2005-09-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

It is my third month in Mumbai. the so-called Maximum City. with minimum space. Had been to Kanhera Caves in Sanjay Gandhi National Park. Seen Gateway of India. Went to Tendulkar's restaurant. And travelling to Andheri, Marol Maroshi, I saw how people exist, not just live, in this city. There is no human element. People just move and move. Noone feels nostalgic about the city. It is a moving city. Though there are not many moving moments as such.

Work is going on. But Mumbai is not Madras. There, I was at home. Madras made me feel at home. Money is more here, but the quality of life. That is a big question which thousands of Mumbaikaars will ask themselves a thousand times. I join the chorus.

Homely affairs

2004-12-10T01:10:00.000-08:00

Vilakudy. It was where the whole journey began. In a strange turn of events, I moved out of that small village probably in serach of greener pastures. From the lush green Vilakudy to a concrete jungle like Madras. But behind that concrete facade, there was a lovely human element to the city. It took time for me to settle down. But when I finally did, it looked like no looking back. Madras was the place. And, probably, is the place.