I miss leftovers

When I was a kid, leftovers were a part of life. They were always there. Not only were they delicious, they also signified the attitude of the house. I grew up in a family where the kitchen was always the centre of activity. Always occupied by at least three ladies (a mix of aunts and grandmothers), it was more organised than most offices are.

They worked in cohesion like a football team. And took over beautifully when one was unwell (or not in a position to enter the kitchen, if you know what I mean). Together they would chop and grind, mix and fix, maybe sing along as they worked, exchange stories & gossip. The kitchen was the sanctum sanctorum. You couldn’t enter it without a bath. You couldn’t even go near it wearing slippers. You wouldn’t dare leave your hair untied in the kitchen. The aunts and grannies were worse than the security guards at the Inorbit Mall.

And there was always plenty of food. We never had biscuits or readymade snacks at home. We were always equipped with raw materials like batter, chutneys, rawa and what-not. Should a guest suddenly arrive, it would take exactly 5 minutes to conjure up a steaming hot snack. Something or the other was always happening in the kitchen. The coffee filter was always dripping aromatic concentrated drops, lying in wait for a guest or a simple chit-chat session.

Coming back to the leftovers. We always cooked in huge quantities. Because we never knew when an aunt, uncle, cousin or visitor would drop in. The rotis were never counted as they were made. ‘Counting them brings bad luck’ they told us. The rice was always excessive. Nobody who came at mealtime was allowed to leave without eating. And we’d invariably have leftovers.

Our mothers and aunts would never let food go waste. They always knew what to do. My most favourite dish was the ‘roti ka laddu’. The leftover rotis were crushed and mixed with ghee and jaggery. And then rolled into little laddus. The most heavenly thing I’ve ever eaten. And these laddus are best made with leftover rotis because they’re slightly crisp and easy to crush. Doesn’t work with fresh rotis. Take my word, I’ve tried.

And the other yummy thing was rice. Mixed with curds and a little ‘tadka’ over it. Mind-blowing stuff. My grandma did various things with rice. Tomato-rice, chutney-rice, pulihaara. Those were breakfasts to die for.

And all our meals were in the kitchen. The journey from the kitchen to another room would mean the food cooled off by half a degree. And that was not acceptable. The rotis would be straight off the tawa. We sat on these little wooden thingies. I don’t know what they’re called in angrezi. The word is ‘Peeta’ in Telugu, ‘Patlo’ in Gujarati, and ‘Paat’ in Marathi.

Even in a place like Bombay we chose houses with decent-sized kitchens where at least three women could work easily. But now things are different. The food is cooked in exact quantities. Cooks have taken over. Unexpected visitors don’t drop in anymore. Even our closest people call before coming. The kitchen is stocked with ready-to-eat stuff. The dosa batter is mixed in planned quantities. And I miss the leftovers.

Promotion Commotion

I’ve been following these promos a few brands have been doing. First ball ka captain, star of the match and what not. It all sounds blasphemous to me. I firmly believe some things are sacrosanct and cannot be tampered with. You can’t get to stand in the field amidst national and international players just because you use a product. That privilege has to be earned through sheer hard work. Obviously the marketing managers think otherwise.

I’m wondering what else this world will come to.

One day Tendulkar will call home, “What’s for dinner, honey.”

“Baigan ka bharta, sweetie.”

“But you know I’m allergic to baigan, loved one. Or do you like me better with a zillion blisters all over?”

“I know, silly. But Kishen Khubchandani likes baigan ka bharta. So that’s what we’re gonna eat.”

“Kishen who?”

“The winner of Visa Visit Sachin contest. He’s coming tonight remember?”

“Never mind. Have you brought the kids from school?”

“No. But they’re on their way.”

“ALONE?”

“Don’t be silly, lord and master-blaster. Gurpreet Gill is bringing them.”

“What…who?”

“The winner of the Chevrolet Drive Your Favourite Cricketer’s Kids Home From School contest.”

I wonder what other sacrosanct areas consumers will pollute.

• Use Castrol Motor Fuel and drive the Chandrayaan 2. If ‘drive’ is the right word.

• Google search users get to head CBI for a day.

• Hindustan Times readers get to sit through the ballot counting.

• Thums up drinkers get to present the Param Vir Chakra.
  

• Ford drivers get to drive one of the tankers in the republic day parade.

• Zippo users get to ride with the firemen when they’re on the job.

• Saffola users get to attend a bypass. And maybe insert the first vein flow in the patient.

• Revlon users get to visit Shabarimala.

Disclaimer: All the names and brands mentioned above have simply been put because they came to my mind. None of them has anything to do with me or this post. However I have no objection to any of them using these ideas for promos.

Hate speech: innovative use of media

This is a brilliant new innovation guaranteed to get you noticed. Vodafone used it, reality shows use it and now a certain young man has used this device to go from ‘unnoticed’ to ‘most talked about’ in no time.

Vodafone did this little promotion. Two actors would quarrel loudly in a public place. And when a crowd gathered, they showed this placard saying ‘For more drama come to Rang Shankara theatre festival.’ They won awards.

Our reality shows had dipping TRPs till the judges started bickering on screen. Somebody walked out, somebody yelled at the other. And suddenly they started getting noticed.

Big brother works on this premise completely. The show is nothing without all those celebrity jhagdas.

Who can we blame really? The TG loves all this.

Haven’t we seen several people gather when any two people pick a fight on streets or railway stations?

The young man in question simply used this media innovation to his advantage. Why else would a boy with a Parsi dad and Sikh mom go passionately pro-hindu all of a sudden?

Logan logo

Yesterday we were caught in a traffic jam. There was a Logan straight ahead. I was looking intently at the behind of the car.

The patidev spouts, “Looks like an @%$*#$@.”

I’d have fallen off the seat but for the belt.

“Language, honey! There’s a kid in the backseat.”

He continues, “But it really does. You’re looking at the logo, aren’t you?”

He knows me too well. I sure was looking at the logo on the behind of the car.

And I hate to admit that it does look somewhat.. er.. anatomical. It’s even placed so strategically, you know.

“It’s diamond-shaped,” I valiantly tried to defend the guy who designed it.

“Only the hole is. The rest of it looks…”

“Alright, alright.”

Even through the stony silence, I could hear him laugh out loud in his mind.

“Can’t we move away from this car?”

Now the chuckle was audible.

“No place.”

Of course I needn’t tell you that now every time there’s a jam, the beloved specially looks for this car and stops right behind it. He looks for Meru cabs to follow when traffic is slow moving.

And I seriously think that car needs to put on a pair of trousers.

What’s the problem with Slumdog winning at the Oscars?

I’ve heard enough about how ‘Jai ho’ isn’t Rehman’s best stuff. I’ve also heard people say ‘Slumdog isn’t Oscar material’. And that Boyle hasn’t depicted India correctly. And that it’s all wrong. Top Bollywood celebrities say this too.

It’s like the people of Kazakhstan saying Borat shouldn’t have got an Oscar nomination. I mean, it’s an American award show. Unka director, unka film, unka award. Why should we object to what wins over there? And they are the TG, not we. So what’s the problem if it appeals to them?

Imagine Switzerland reprimanding the Chopras for misrepresenting their country. “Nobody sings songs here,” I can almost hear them saying. The Chinese could’ve gotten angry when Circuit, in Munnabhai MBBS, calls the Chinese tourist “Hakka noodle”. And we were roaring with laughter in the movie halls. Was the guy even Chinese?

Aren’t there hajaar such ‘misrepresentations’ in our films? Like the ‘Pretty woman’ song in Kal ho na ho. Do firang neighbours in Manhattan follow suit when an Indian guy breaks into a song-and-dance number?

Of all the people, do we have any right to talk about countries being misrepresented in a film? Ha! Apne girebaan mein jhank ke dekho, bollywood.

I’m happy for Rehman. And for Rasool Pookutty. If ‘Jai ho’ doesn’t go well with you, celebrate this because doors are now thrown open to Indian artists who want to interact with Hollywood. Celebrate anyway. Way to go, Rehman!

I’m allowed to kiss in public now.

“Pucker up, honey.” I say to the better half, who almost chokes over his morning tea.

“Where shall we kiss? The gateway or the beach?” I continue.

Just when the hubby thought he was used to the mad ways of his ad-woman wife…

In response to the quizzical brows, I add, “You see, the Delhi High Court says we’re allowed to kiss in public. It’s legal and all.”

“I didn’t know the Delhi High Court is so interested in your life, or mine for that matter,” he quips.

The battle of wits has begun.

“They say it’s okay for married people to kiss in public,” I explain.

I see the mischievous grin that made me fall in love with him, stretch across his face.

“Do they specify that the two people have to be married to each other?”

One-all.

I’m glad the Delhi HC approves but I’m wondering if couples – married or otherwise – make elaborate kissing plans etc.

Imagine a daily planner like this.

1 pm dentist appointment.

2.15 pm kiss

2.30 pm meeting

Correct me if I’m wrong but I always thought a kiss is something that happens on the spur of the moment. It’s just a demonstration of affection and isn’t really that big a deal.

They ’re saying it offends the people around. It’s against our culture. Valentine’s Day is against our culture. Anything to do with love is against our culture.

Picture the moral police being thrown back into history.

• They arrest Krishna and Radha because they’re not married. In fact, Krishna is married to Rukmini and Radha to Ayan.
• Prevent the worship of the Shiva linga. We all know why.
• Send Vatsyayana to the gallows for voyeurism. And set fire to the book.
• Sue Menaka for immoral conduct.
• Have a dharna outside Durga’s residence to tell her she ought to be in the kitchen, not outside destroying asuras.
• Order Kaamdev and Rati to shut shop. Maybe confiscate the bow and arrow?
• Ostracize Vishnu for turning into Mohini. And sue him for immoral intent.

And after all this, tell these individuals that they have no place in Indian culture.

Luck by chance is the thinking man’s Om Shanti Om

A very well made film about real things and real people. It has the classy style of execution that comes naturally to Zoya Akhtar. Surprising a film that revolves around Bollywood can be made without really going over the top. Subtle, sensitive execution with delightful, Wodehouse-like humour.

Beautifully etched characters which are so real, we actually identify with them. Though Zoya has used all her Bollywood contacts, she has done so in a suave manner. They all fit in well with the storyline as against being crammed in one song. And they are not the highlight of the film, only part of it. That’s what’s beautiful.

It’s the story of a Delhi struggler who makes it to the top, and how he reacts to the heady glamour and success. Farhan Akhtar, like the protagonist of the film, is brave enough to play the lead guy with shades of grey. The film revolves not around Bollywood but human beings. In fact one of the characters says, “Don’t call us Bollywood. We are the Hindi film industry.”

It is a satire around how success changes the attitude of a person as well as that of the people around him. And, I know this is a spoiler, but I have to say, I have just seen SRK’s most meaningful role. That was goose-pimply.

The casting, methinks, was perfect right from Vikram (Farhan Akhtar), which nobody else could've done better to Rolly (Rishi Kapoor) the producer who relies heavily on the heavens. And what I loved the most was Anurag Kashyap playing the film writer. There's this hilarious scene where Nikki can't pronounce 'khoon' and the exasperated writer finally changes it to 'murder' in the 'oh-so-difficult dialogue'. He says "Murder kar do" or something like that.

Overall, it was a tad long but I ain’t complaining. I want to go see it again. A couple of times. Just to enjoy the extremely well-written dialogues. No slapstick moments, no hamming and no sugary ending. Comedy that brings a smile to the face.

All in all, if Luck By Chance were an ad, it would be the Hutch (boy and dog) ad. Loved by the masses and the classes.