Book Review: Saga of the Self-Righteous

It was in early 2009 that I first met Dinakar when my friend and colleague decided to have him as his lawyer to fight a case in the Central Administrative Tribunal (CAT), Bangalore.  It was not an easy job to convince him to take up the case (but which he eventually did).  That was when I learnt of the book he had written.  'Veerappan's Prize Catch: Rajkumar'. Not very imaginatively named. Of his experience as the Director General of Police, Karnataka, when the (in)famous kidnapping of the matinee idol of the state, Dr Rajkumar, by Veerappan took place.  Though I was curious (and JS bought the book, finished reading it and lent it to me thereafter) I never read the book.  Until now - after it had languished in my book-shelf for years.  On a whim I took it out and read it almost non-stop.

For those who are familiar with Kannada cinema (fans of Rajkumar especially) or the kidnapping or Veerappan or Karnataka politics, it certainly is an easy, breezy read, largely.  Loads of anecdotes about politicians, police officers and bureaucrats keep you engaged making you guffaw, feel sad and ponder alternately.  And, yes, it does tell the tale of what happened behind all the stonewalling of information by the two state governments involved.  And, categorically answers the question, "Was ransom paid to Veerappan to get Rajkumar released?"

Of course the book and its author faced loads of flak from the government and politicians (and the police officers and bureaucrats too).  If so many uncharitable remarks are made against these people (right or wrong, apart), they naturally would be perturbed and upset (to say the least).  Mr Dinakar even told us that several of them did file cases against him (and none could stand the test of law, in his words).  

But, Dinakar is no story-teller.  His book is more like his diary for the period which contains his observations of the people and situations that occurred during the 108 days of captivity of Rajkumar.  And, the book is NOT about Dinakar and his life - except for the bare mentions of how he had to fight his way up the ladder to become the DGP.  The man surely is one toughie, unwilling to give up and surrender and always gearing to go and fight it out.  

Beyond a point the book starts wearing your patience thin; just like that of the governments involved in negotiation with Veerappan and that of the general public who had to suffer many hardships during those 108 wretched days.  Not because nothing was happening behind the scenes but Dinakar's snide remarks about all and sundry - he goes after almost everyone, except himself - become repetitive and boring.  His narrative doesn't always hold attention due to the lack of skills in telling the story.  As the criticism of everyone starts mounting, Dinakar begins to sound arrogant and egoistic.  But for him everyone is at fault here.  He of course has his sympathy for Parvathamma and SM Krishna - he even pays Krishna some backhand compliments on his patience and good manners.  But, they're just about.  Ultimately the book sounds more like a bugle that Dinakar is playing to sing his own achievements.  

Post-Script:  My friend lost his case at the CAT as Mr Dinakar appearing for him lost his temper during arguments, and thereafter gave up the case.    

Taking a break

I find that I get addicted to anything quite easily.  Be it tobacco or books or compulsive shopping or web-surfing.  Or, facebook, more specifically.  I have battled with the habit of smoking for decades and only recently have I been able to overcome it (and hope to stay that way forever).

I did realize that several aspects of facebook were addictive pretty early - like the games one gains access to, the discussion groups one becomes part of, etc.  However, I was missing the woods for the trees.  It took me a while to realize I was spending way too much time on facebook, rendering myself unproductive for many hours a day, doing nothing particularly constructive - eagerly check everybody's status updates, argue incessantly over any stuff - be it politics or performance on the cricket field.  It reminded me also of my addiction to certain user groups I was/am member of, where I'd eagerly await new mails that arrive from these groups so I could read and converse (and most times, pick an argument).  The facebook addiction - in my own estimate - is about 10 times or even more powerful!

I had previously satisfied my ego that I could stay away from this addiction by turning off my account for a few days.  I went back - telling myself, "Oh, I can do this anytime!" Just like I had thought about smoking after I would stop it for a while and return thinking, "I can quit anytime!"  It never happened for a very long time.  

As I prepare myself for other things I thought it important to infuse some bit of discipline into my schedule.  So, I have stopped being on facebook for the past few days, and hence have deactivated my account. I expect to get back on to the facebook post the election results.  A couple of my friends even jibed, "Looks like you've been restrained", "Seems you've been given a gag order!" I have restrained from reacting.  And, it feels good to feel detoxified.  

The Gripe of the Cynic

It's the same city. Yet it's different. The monuments are the same alright - of course some have given way to others and some have adapted to survive - but the men aren't. Stepping back into Bangalore after a decade and I'm yet to find my feet and call it my home again. I'm not the one who bellows, "oh, the place has changed so much! I can't believe it". I was a part of Bangalore when the city began its journey towards change. Along the way there are many changes that surely weren't planned, weren't welcome too. But then every place changes. Bangalore has NOT changed much and that's why I find it such a pain. 

 Those that haven't change include:

* Kannada movie stars - they look as pathetic as they were in the '90s. I guess the local population secretly admires the ordinary looking or even the downright unpresentable (I'm being politically correct by not calling anyone '****'). Else how could you explain the success of a Ganesh or a Vijay or even a Darshan (I've watched ONLY Ganesh in a movie, will come to that later). The lesser said the better about the heroines. It seems BAR Girls are having a field day as heroines (Beyond ANY Redemption/Repair) - example, Sanjana Gandhi. Yikes!

* Roads - The same old ones with more traffic. They weren't bad when they were first laid. But nothing has been done after that. Probably the incidence of flyovers in a city is the lowest in Bangalore (as compared to any other metro). One must however laud the growth of the city still. It has hardly received any help from any governmental quarter. But yet it's made it to the TOP in the sunshine sectors. No roads lead to Bangalore. People fly into this place! Everyone who enters this city is greeted with HORNS by a street-ful of madmen.

* Shopping - It was bad in the '90s and it's worse now (at best). With the advent of Factory Price Outlets everyone sports a brand today (and that's the ONLY good thing, though lesser said the better of the brands sported). Despite the new and extremely crowded (hyped and not hyper) malls. The worst is the parking fee one has to pay at these claustrophobic dungeons! One has to pay to experience horror! The only decent shopping area I've discovered is 100ft Road of Indiranagar/Domlur. 

 *Partying and Police - The deadlines stay firmly in place. The Police is as hungry for the quickbuck as ever. Night shows have almost disappeared from the minds and memories of families. 

 *Kannada - Conspicuous by its absence. It was the same then and now. But I might be one of the few mourners. Others don't seem to remember anything like it existed.

Breaking a Jinx

"Hey! We'll soon have a new house! My dad's making plans" I had shreiked to my friend in delight. I was in Class IV or V then. "Will you be in the same school or will you join Seventh Day" he had asked in turn. Soon he and I both forgot about the house. Again in Class VI, we started looking for a house. We even visited one. I saw dad talking to the owner and later in the evening, to all our relatives. "He's agreed for Rs. XXX. I think it's reasonable". I exchanged notes with my sis. "There is more space in front of the house. We can have a garden". "I want a swing" she responded. The house never became ours though.

Many such moments came and went by. With each such episode my mom went a little down. A little sad at first and a lot cynical later. Both mom and Kumi (my sister) always yearned and pined for the house. Being the women they were it was probably only natural. Dad had built one before he was married to mom but he sold it and gave away the proceeds to his sister and brother. Mom hadn't cribbed, I remember.

Even after my education was over, the plans were still being made, none materializing. Many thousands went down the drain in the form of payments to brokers, advances to the house-owners and travel. We'd be close to owning our own home. But never close enough to call it our own. I'd become stoical about the whole thing and hardly paid any heed when mom would bemoan about not having a roof that we could call our very own, very often.

Most of the money parents had earned was spent not just on our education but also on our relatives' wellbeing. Both my father's and my mother's siblings grew up at our place, were educated by my parents and helped in settling their lives. They all had gone on to do well. Including having their own homes. In Bangalore, Mysore and elsewhere. Some even multiple properties. We'd stayed where we had started from. In the same rented house status - the houses changed, so did the rentals though.

My sister used to get very bitter about the house we stayed in. She used to feel embarassed to bring her friends into the place. "I hate it" she would say vehemently. I had no problems though. There were times my mom would quarrel with dad, "Because of you we haven't even been able to have the security of the house". Dad would go off on a different tangent, "IF only my children had listened to me". "I'll die without seeing our home" mom. "Why can't you be responsible for anything?" sis. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes it didn't matter.

When I returned to Bangalore after 10 years, building a house was the priority. However, ever since September 2007 nothing had been done. Even after mom transferred the site to my name so we could get loan easily from a bank. Kumi sent money too. All of her hard-earned money in the UK. Despite the opposition from her in-laws (that almost threatened her marriage) and despite her own jobless situation. Mom once flew off her handle at me. Dad and I blamed each other for the non-starter now. First it was plan approvals, next it was change of the site account. Then it was inauspicious days. Non-availability of a contractor. Phew! There was no end to our excuses.

Something that had NOT happened for 30 years wasn't wiling to happen in a hurry now. Relatives in Bangalore tried dissuading parents to construct the house NOW in hometown (Kolar). They said, "Sudhir would settle anyways in Bangalore. Why waste money building a house that none would later live in?" Parents were horrified to hear. They almost believed that I didn't want to get back to Kolar. My granny offered her own property to us. It was like adding fuel to fire for mom. She hated the gesture and threw a tantrum at us all. For a woman who's self-reliance personified, it was shameful to hear those words of offer.

All sob stories largely have a good end in movies. It happened here too. I, who was least concerned until now, suddenly transformed. I set first a deadline by which the house would be ready. I declared, "We will conduct the house-warming ceremony in May 2009". Dad continued to read his newspaper. Mom looked at me with blank eyes. "Kumi, I'm committed to build the house before May" I called sis to tell her and she changed the topic. None trusted that I'd do anything.

After having been everything - shirker, liar, lazy, irresponsible - I've begun a new beginning now. We broke the jinx. On 5 November, we did the Bhumi Puja. Despite the hiccups before the D-day (father's tantrums, mother's doubts, Kumi's cold vibes, relatives' rues over contractor et al) we had a smooth take-off.

Yes, mom and dad now believe that the house-warming could happen in May! I smile. Even as I worry about handling Kumi's mails of accusations and anger over the construction.

'Queen' Review: Kangana All the Way!!!

My first impression on seeing the trailers of ‘Queen’ wasn’t positive.  ‘The same Punjabi music and the same nach-gana.  Hasn’t Kangana done this already in ‘Tannu Weds Mannu’?’ I wondered.  But my partner – a big Kangana fan - had already warned that we’d watch the movie no matter what and I was bracing myself for a terrible outing.  Until Friday morning.  Almost everyone was singing deliriously on how good the movie was and I wasn’t yet convinced.

 ‘Queen’ (directed by almost-first-timer, Vikas Behl – he co-directed ‘Chillar Party’ that won the National Award for the Best Children’s Movie a while ago) opens with the chatter on the impending marriage of Rani, a bholi-bhali Punjabi kudi from Rajauri Garden, Delhi with Vijay, engineer working in London.  Love-cum-arranged marriage between children of two friends.  And, Vijay (Rajkummar Rao) develops cold feet over marrying a ‘behnji’; so he calls it off a day before the ceremony leaving Rani crestfallen.  The girl – who’s dreamed on for long to go on a ‘phoren’ honeymoon – decides to take off on her own to the European destinations – Paris and Amsterdam.  On this journey, egged on by her grandma’s words over the phone (‘agar TV hi dekhna that toh idhar hi dekh sakti thi; Paris jaane ki kya zaroorat thi?’), a chance-friendship with a very hippy VJ (Vijayalakshmi, a half-Indian hotel staff in Paris) and a resolve-forming encounter with a thief, and her very ‘awakening’ sojourn of Amsterdam, Kangana morphs from a self-pitying douche-bag to someone who opens up to the idea that there’s life beyond shaadi, pati and pyar.  And, as she sheds her inhibitions - and even takes a ‘selfie’ in satin and sends it to Vijay – her ex-beau rediscovers his ‘mojo’ for her and launches his search for her to win her back. 

‘Queen’ belongs to the genre of movies that are about the protagonist’s self-discovery and coming-of-age – like, ‘Wake Up Sid’, ‘Zindagi Na Milega Dubara’ and ‘English Vinglish’.  And, the story is not completely hatke.  But what sets it apart, along with the quirk of Rani who wants to go on her honeymoon even though the wedding gets cancelled is the treatment to the subject.  Also, this is the equivalent of the bromances that we're seeing of late! Never OTT, never in-your-face, a sparkling script and screenplay, subtly witty and natural dialogues (oh yes, Kangana has co-penned them!), and some real foot-tapping music (including the suddenly-rediscovered-and-trending-mightily ‘Hungama Ho Gaya’).  The parting scene of the movie best symbolises how understated the entire stuff was!

And, of course every person who’s part of the cast has delivered amazingly.  Rajkummar Rao as the self-centred, cocksure fiancé is convincing and anyone else would possibly have reduced the role to a caricature.  Lisa Hayden as the Parisian Indian is a revelation – a just amalgamation of seduction and warmth.  Even the bit part players – dadi, the motley friends of Kangana in Amsterdam, her parents and ‘motu’ brother – are lovely, believable and endearing.  Finally, it’s an out-and-out Kangana’s show who appears in almost every frame.  The best compliment that could be paid to her is you forget it’s Kangana and think of her as a plane-Jane Rani for almost the entire movie – and root for her in every scene.  Be it when she’s crying inconsolably at the Café when her beau calls off the marriage or when she innocently is picking up souvenirs for her family at a sex toy shop or advising Lisa not to sleep around with everyone or not getting that the jokes are on her several times, she’s absolutely marvellous. 

There are some stuff that jar too.  The cinematography is pedestrian.  Even Paris and Amsterdam look ordinary here.  And, indoors are uniformly dull and boring.  Also, some of the scenes are so clichéd you know what’s coming from miles away – like the cookery challenge to Kangana.  And, easily the movie could have been trimmed by another 10-15 minutes even though you don’t ever get bored.  But, then these are minor things that only a critic cribs about.  Just don’t miss this.  Go watch it to celebrate the woman/women in you or in your life! This certainly is one of the best 'coming of age' movies made on a woman and would stand out in 2014 among the best of the lot.