Saturday, September 29, 2007

Photo Essay - 1:24am; Jama Masjid

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Celebrating Ramadan night in the old city.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Midnight hour. Jama Masjid - eyes wide shut. Matia Mahal bazaar - split wide open. Kebabs at Al-Jawahar restaurant. Hungry beggars squatting outside. Freedom to eat (the holy fasting time is during the day). A pretty girl asking for alms. A bearded man, with no moustache, lusting for her. Rowdy young men passing lewd comments on other pretty girls. Burka-clad ladies shopping for colorful salwar-kurtas. A hairy man getting his arm-pits shaved in a hair saloon. A boy in skull-cap trying to start his Enfield motorcycle (it’s not starting). A shopkeeper spraying out betel juice. A street ruffian taking out his shirt. Three friends shopping for Rs. 75 shoes. An old man buying underwear. Two young men hugging each other. A stunningly-beautiful woman amidst the crowd. She is walking with her husband. She glances at me. I stare back at her. She averts her eyes. I don’t. She looks again. At me. Allah.

Street Seductions

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Colorful Nights

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Sex in the Shop

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Buy Us Shoes

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Neck on the Edge

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Bike Buddies

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Long Night; No Dream

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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Table for One – Embassy Restaurant, Connaught Place

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Embassy Restaurant

Food lovers' guide to Delhi.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

This restaurant profile is a part of the Table for One series.

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Faded yet elegant, Embassy's aura is soaked in the pale-orange grandeur of yesteryears. The stewards must have been once young and the patrons more stylish. The mood must have been livelier and the Club Sandwich less greasy. But time is gathering rust here. Aging waiters, with smoke-weathered moustaches, carry a kind of pot-belly that is exclusive only to those employed in a permanent job.

Some regulars (old and balding), spotted around 6 pm daily, asks just for tea. Two television sets, fixed on the ceiling, beams unfashionable Hindi news channels on mute. The quiet music is usually Bach but old Bollywood tunes intrude frequently. The only way to pinch yourself out of the 'very 70s' is to resort to window views of Connaught Place's busy street outside where young people swagger past in hip clothes.

Don't mistake Embassy's old-world decadence for professional lousiness. Tables are neat and tidy. Silver is polished. The china is not chipped. Air conditioning is cool. Food is conventional and correct. At lunchtime, men in ties come from nearby banks while during nights bourgeoisie Indian families congregate for their Tandoori Chickens. Western backpackers search for nirvana in an extensive selection of European dishes.

Try the delicious Chicken Stroganoff (Rs 245), sautéed chicken pieces and perfectly browned mushrooms simmered in a rich stock and served with rice, potatoes and sour cream. There is also a well-stocked bar. You should feel comfortable ordering just the hearty mushroom soup (Rs 72.95) and two crisp-hot bread buns (Rs 24.75 each). The latter is accompanied with a block of salted butter. Be bold to ask for more.

Eat unhurriedly and don't ignore your book. (I was reading John Cheever's short stories the last time I was there) Stewards don't pressure you to leave early. Try avoiding the lunchtime from 12:30 to 4 when it can be extremely stuffy. The mezzanine floor is less crowded though. Some nosy guests may stare or ask to have a look at your book. Show them the cover and resume the reading. If the book is boring or demands impossible attention, you may like to eavesdrop on the surrounding conversations. For that you need to be familiar with Hindi, of course.

D-11, Inner Circle, Connaught Place
Ph 4151-0560
Since 1948
Open daily from 10 AM - 11:30 PM
96 Covers
Popular Specialties:
Indian - Pindi Channa, Tandoori Chicken, Daal Gosht, Murg Mussalam, Chicken Masala
Continental - Chicken Stroganoff, Chicken Supreme, Tomato Fish
Essential Rates:
Black Coffee - Rs 48.75
Tea - Rs 43.75


Evening Hours

Embassy restaurant

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Special Report - Delhi University's Lively Theater Scene

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Miranda House actors

An investigation into the inner world of campus theater.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

"Maaro Saalon ko!", mobs shout as they tear into each other. Muslims are massacred, Hindus killed, leaving everything numbingly quiet. The stillness slowly gives way to signs of life as the following is revealed - the goonda is a girl, and the broken-hearted Mother India is a first-year grad student in jeans.

Dramsoc, the theater society at Lady Shri Ram College (LSR), is rehearsing its Independence Day play. The actors have attitude. "We perform with full energy and full volume," says Sheetal Jerath, the society's President. As the death sentence is passed in a gripping court scene, would be martyr Udham Singh unexpectedly breaks into giggles; everyone else, including the nasty British lawyer, ends up in smiles. Dramsoc's sunny buoyancy is partly born out of successes in the last academic year, when it had won 23 awards.

This mix of youth and drama spells adventure. "In the college you were either in Dramsoc or wanted to be in it," says Manika Dhama, a Miranda House alumnus. There is an eagerness to be different and to take risks. Lack of resources, something that everyone cribs about, doesn't consign students to inertia, but impels them to look for creative alternatives. The necessity to improvise and think on one's feet has proven a valuable training ground for many well-known actors. Lilette Dubey (LSR), Sunit Tandon (St. Stephen's), and Mira Nair (Miranda House), all honed their skills in college dramatic societies.

Some thrive in spite of college administrators. A society in a North Campus college, that wished not to be named, complained that staff advisors are un-cooperative. The permission to use the auditorium is a luxury. "We don't get the space. If we rehearse in the grounds, the principal scolds us for wasting time," bemoans a member. Yet, this society is respected within the university. It has performed in prestigious festivals in India and abroad.

Other colleges have more support. Kirori Mal's drama society, The Players, is perhaps the luckiest. Keval Arora, an institution in campus theater, has been the staff advisor there for more than 20 years. With his white beard, balding head, and half-sleeved shirt, his Socrates like persona has witnessed the changing trends in the campus. "Earlier, the emphasis was on an expensive annual play which would exhaust all the efforts and claim the entire year's budget, " Arora says. Now more stage plays, with more performances of each play, are spaced throughout the academic year, along with numerous street plays. This has meant more opportunities for more students.

All changes have not been for the better. Rivalries have grown disconcertingly unhealthy. Earlier, it was not shocking to have actors from more than two colleges in the same play. St. Stephens, when it was only open to boys, would send its men to do male leads in Miranda House productions, which would, in turn supply the ladies for plays by its Shakespeare Society. Likewise, actress Neena Gupta, a Kamla Nehru student, appeared in a Kirori Mal play.

Such co-operation is unthinkable in the present-day college-eat-college world. The exception is Anukriti, Mrianda's Hindi dramatic society. It holds auditions for men from co-ed colleges for its annual full-length production.

Inter-college festivals can be mean. Host colleges create rules heavily loaded in their favor. Time limits are devised to suit the duration of their play; self-written scripts are conveniently disqualified; and guest teams are barred from carrying their own lights. Occasionally students from rival colleges are heckled in the midst of performances. Worse things happen - appointing certain judges virtually guarantees the victory of certain colleges.

Such bare-knuckle competitiveness can ruin the pleasure of theater. But despite the petty politicking and backbiting (some say it's hyped), Delhi's campuses bubble with originality and talent. Their performances and certainly their enthusiasm can reinvigorate the jaded sense of the most cynical seen-it-all critic. Compared to the predictable Toba Tek Singhs and Ghasiram Kotwals of Mandi House, performances here are offbeat and experimental.

A few years ago, Hindu College performed Austrian playwright Peter Handke's Offending the Audience, less of a play and more a polemical lecture on theater. LSR impressed Pakistanis on a trip to Lahore with Eight, a drama on child rape. Hansraj College desi-fied Clifford Odets's Waiting for Lefty to Waiting for Kranti, a play originally based on a New York cab drivers' strike. Kirori Mal's attachment to Howard Breton has seen seven of his plays performed over several years. Miranda House's Ariels played Jackie Crossland's Collateral Damage. Anukruti, Miranda House's Hindi society, wowed audiences with their depiction of Bihar's Naxalite problem.

These scripts may not sell outside, but deeply satisfy those passionate about theater.

Sexual abuse, partition stories, and angst-ridden leftist views alone do not keep the student-actors busy. "We try avoiding clichés like Vijay Tendulkar and Premchand who have been done to death," says Tvara Misra, Anukruti's General Secretary. Comedies and spoofs are popular. The energy in the street plays, occasionally performed in places like Dilli Haat, have an enthralling rawness of its own.

However, when even Bollywood is boldly adapting Shakespeare, students here remain shy of the greatest playwright of all time. "Drama isn't just Shakespeare." says Puja Sen of Miranda's Ariel, a society ironically named after a spirit in The Tempest. Perhaps that's why the bard is left to the whims of Shakesoc, the Shakespeare Society in St. Stephens. This college is so sticky about English that its festivals occasionally come with the caveat that excessive use of Hindi would disqualify the entries.

The language issue, of course, has another twist - 'bad words'. The women colleges are particularly sensitive. But these are minor irritants in the otherwise captivating theater scene that has taken tentative steps out of the campus gates.

India Habitat Center, the college campus of Rang De Basanti, has been inviting selected colleges to its Old World Theater festival since 2002. Last year Anukriti performed "Khubsurat Baala" at Sri Ram Center Auditorium. Ashoka Hotel hosted a college festival the same year. Five colleges have been invited to take part in the Atelier's Youth Theater festival at Mandi House in October.

However, the real action still remains inside. From September-end to February, college hours are claimed by drama competitions. Auditoriums echo with dialogues, canteens are abuzz with theater talk, and all the campus is a stage.

Dramsoc Actors of Lady Shriram College for Women

Theater Queens

Dramsoc Actors in Action

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Hansraj College Actors

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Kirori Mal's Keval Arora, The Living Legend of Campus Theater

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The Delhi Walla with the Miranda House's English Society Actors (picture courtesy: Rajesh Thakur)

The Delhi Walla

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Lazy Dining in Delhi - Table for One

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Anna Karenina

The Delhi Walla sets off to a pleasure trip.

[Text and picture by Mayank Austen Soofi]

A good café is one where you can read a book. Or write one. Delhi does not have many. Those which fancy themselves as cafes (think Barista, Café Coffee Day and Costa Coffee outlets) are extremely youth-centric, noisy and pretentious. They lack individuality. The food is industrial; the stewards speak with accent; the music is loud (the in-house music bands are often embarrassing); and they all try too hard to be American. Besides, the high turnaround obliges you to leave, once you have dunk down your coffee and munched your sandwich, within a tolerable time limit.

By launching the Table for One series, this blogsite has undertaken to profile eating places in the capital which are moody, easy-going, and where you can be free of the city’s fast-paced life for a while. These hangouts - cafes, restaurants, and dhabas - would be recommended not because of food but for their romantic ambiance.

Some considerations to be kept in mind while deciding the places: Are there (at least some) dishes which are full-filling and inexpensive (but not unhealthy like McDonald burgers); is the staff attentive and still let you be; is the clientele noisy (too many kids scurrying around); is the décor jarring to the senses; is there some time during the day when the place is not packed to a full house; and most importantly – can you concentrate on the book you are reading. Or writing.

The Delhi Walla hopes that the series would assist the readers in finding their own comfort zones in the city.

Bon voyage.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Shopping - Collectibles in Delhi

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A quick guide to buying antiques and reproductions in the capital.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

It could be a Maharani's chunri – or her maid's – for it came down from a rajwada family. Hemmed in by dusty chandeliers, camel-bone pendants, faded maps, and 19th century books, I'm being persuaded by an antique dealer to buy the royal relic at a throwaway price of Rs 50. We are in a basement shop at Hauz Khas village where antique lovers are enticed by streets decked with film posters of classics like Sholay, Shree 420 and Mughal-e-Azam.

Most traders obtain originals from collectors. Agents in India and abroad are of vital assistance. Vipin Jain, who deals in books, photographs and lithographs, often purchases online from England. With a first floor stoor in Hauz Khas, his prices are whimsy. The Raj-era photographs, for instance, range between Rs 500 to Rs 4000. "The more difficult the replacement, the higher the price," says Jain.

Reproductions are another option. Yet these fake old-style telephones, cuckoo clocks, and sailor's compasses, often produced in Moradabad factories, remain frightfully expensive. One Hauz Khas showroom has a brass replica of the world's first globe priced at Rs 9,950. An elephant-headed walking stick cost Rs 1000.

Before being seduced by an object, it is wise to confirm its antiquity with the dealer. While few are genuinely old, most artifacts - Nepali facemasks or Oriya statues; hand-played gramophones or leather-covered telescopes - are purposely made to look ancient.

However, the Hauz Khas charm pales against the glamour of Sundar Nagar's collectibles. Its fancy showrooms - displaying Rajasthani teakwood bajots, Tamil Nadu temple sculptures, Aligarh-made Natraj figures, and Pakistani brass tumblers – simply stun the senses. Perhaps prices there fluctuate with the skin color. At one store, a teakwood cabinet etched with surajmukhi flowers was quoted to me for Rs 15, 000; a little later its price rose by Rs 7000 for Spanish-speaking tourists.

If Sundar Nagar frustrates with high-end prices, cheaper Janpath, at Connaught Place, is a limiting option. However, finalise a purchase only after including Paharganj's fantastic Kerala Arts showroom in your shopping itinerary. Such precious junk there. The dazzle of the colorful Tibetan cabinet contrasting with the quiet dignity of a Kerala rice box ends up producing delicious dilemmas – to buy this? That? Both? All?

Hauz Khas Village Romance

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Hauz Khas Alley

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Sundar Nagar's Showroom

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Citizens of Sundar Nagar

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Lamp Shades, Again in Sundar Nagar

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The Splendor of Paharganj

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Monday, September 17, 2007

Amusement Park - Fun & Fury in Adventure Island

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North Delhi gets its hangout zone.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

A mother hurls 'behave yourself" warnings to her excited young charges as they soar 30 feet into the air on a ride called Z-force. There the world stops for a fraction of a second. Whoosh. A free fall - Mummy screams the loudest.

Dignity stands compromised at the newly opened Adventure Island in Rohini. The most reserved people, with the stiffest upper lip, lose inhibitions once they fasten their seatbelts on the Sidewinder. First the ground beneath the feet disappears. Then the ride dangles up, way up, then down, and up again on the other side, making an angle of 240 degrees. The heart almost pops out of the chest. Everyone, both introverts and extroverts, exclaim in union – O. My. God.

Spread over an artificial lake, Adventure Island is presently blooming with 14 rides. More are promised. "The kids love it," says Parul Khanna who is visiting from Pitampura. A bridge, resembling San Francisco's Golden Gate, separates the island from a plush mall - Metro Walk. Baujis, Ammajis, Mummies, Daddies, Buas and kids walk past Costa Coffee and Benetton outlets, just like the funcked-up teenagers at south Delhi's Ansal Plaza.

The world-class rides have been sourced from firms which supply Disneyland. Most are a mix of fun and fury. Beware of Twister. While lifting up the seated people in a gentle revolving movement, it abruptly turns upside down. Sandal drops. Mobile phone falls. Before riders could recover, the axle furiously swirls around 360 degrees. Rotating and revolving, tumbling and toppling, pitting levity against gravity, people seem fated to fall like flakes of tobacco from a broken old cigar. But they don't. The adventure ends, and the heart starts beating again. There are other rides to explore: trains, airplanes, cars, and sky riders.

Don't worry. Safety measures are rigorous and the staff is smart. They move around with a dustpan (just in case somebody throws up). That's the only adventure to avoid.

Price Rs 220 & Rs 270 on weekdays, Rs 270 & Rs 350 on weekends and holidays, for children & adults respectively Where Sector 10, Rohini (closest Metro station: Rithala)

Cyclone Ride - Easy & Breezy

Loving the Ride

Z-Force - Defying Gravity

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Sidewinder - Fear and More Fear

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Better to Just See

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Twister - Rotaing & Revolving

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Twister - Heart Pops Out

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Back at Cyclone - Time to Go Home

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Thursday, September 13, 2007

Nasbandi Colony - The Homeland of the Impotent People

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A journey into the dark secrets of Delhi.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Hopelessness chokes the air. Lethargy is invasive. Life swims in a dreary motion. Everyone moves slowly, knowing there is no future. The world is sterile. Welcome to Nasbandi Colony. Like its name, which means vasectomy, the surgical process of sterilization, there is no hope in the unborn. That has been taken away also.

Unpainted houses hint of aborted undertakings. Tattered curtains, guarding the entrances, expose the poverty inside. Bricks are layered one upon another but construction appears to have been jettisoned midway. Walls look temporary. Open drains line their fronts. Lemon wedges. Plastic bottles. Rubber slippers. Cluster of mosquitoes. And greenish-looking oily scum floats in them. Hand pumps stand adjacent to these drains. In the absence of running water, they are a vital source for malaria.

The streets are strewn with refuse. Goats and people scamper on the sides. Flies reign supreme – on buffalo meat, over-ripened mangoes, and infants in hanging baskets. Here decent people pine for dignity. It's just across the border from Delhi - and yet it could be from another era.

Tattered Curtains Exposing the Poverty

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Basics

No Option But to Sell Buffalo Meat

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Board a rickshaw after arriving at Loni in Ghaziabad district. As it rattles over bricks and boulders on an unpaved road, a painful sensation gnaws inside your stomach. Note the despondent-looking people sitting outside their brick hovels that line the way. They acclimatize you to Nasbandi Colony.

Most are Muslims. Some houses double up as factories. Mr. Junaid Alam, from Bihar's Darbhanga, makes metallic springs. His per day output of 10 kg translates to Rs 200. Mr. Tanveer, next door, earns Rs 70 by making 4000 brass buttons daily. Their manually run machines are independent of an on-and-off power supply available six hours a day.

There is no government college. Children go to private schools or madrasas. Some, like 15-year-old Mohammed Nasir, sell Buffalo Biryani for Rs 5 per plate. Parks are unthinkable luxuries. Cricketers play in a ground in the nearby Lalbagh. Grocery stores are half-empty. An abnormally hot bakery, churning out rusks on steel trays, employs seething young men.

Nasbandi Colony's present cannot be captured without knowing its past.

History

Mrs. Sunhera Khatoon - The Nasbandi Resident

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It happened around twenty years ago. Mrs. Sunhera Khatoon, the mother of three children, does not remember the exact year they shifted from Seemapuri. Her youngest was a girl of 6 when Mrs.Khatoon went for the 'operation'. Six months later, as promised by a government policy, she was awarded a free 50 square yard plot at Buddha Nagar, in neighboring Uttar Pradesh. Many lapped up this scheme through which the government hoped to address the population problem. Around five thousand underwent birth-control operation to gain free plots. Buddha Nagar became known as Nasbandi Colony.

"It was like a forest then," recalls Mrs. Khatoon. "Keekars dotted the gehu and makka fields." Not just trees disappeared. Bangladeshis lived here. Many say that they were the first to settle. According to Mrs. Parveen Chowdhury, a local woman politician who has contested the block elections, Bangladeshis were driven out during the last 4 years. Police vans would pick up entire families in surprise raids. Mrs. Chowdhury could not say what happened to them later. Some discreetly returned to sell their houses before disappearing again.

Mrs. Praveen Chowdhury - Ill Husband; Uncertain Future

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Meanwhile Nasbandi Colony failed to live up to its promise. Within five years of moving to the colony, Mrs. Khatoon's husband died of fever. She attributes it to the filth and mosquitoes. Her rag-picker son mostly remains ill and stays home. She supports her four granddaughters by washing dishes in Lalbagh households. "Even social workers don't come here," says Mrs. Chowdhury. Her husband suffers from liver complications.

Landmarks

Multiplex - Nasbandi Style

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Ugliness can always be peeled down to uncover layers of beauty. Ignore the stink of Budh Bazaar, the commercial heart, and look deeper. Pavement tailors are stitching delicate embroideries on shalwars; makeshift 'halls' are screening films on VCD for Rs 5. Santosh Jewelers attracts with its claim of making 23-carat jewels to order. All this the pretty girls observe from rooftops.

School Time

School Dreams - Lovable Teacher

Those who fear for secularism must visit Gulshan Public School at G Block. Almost all of its 150 students are Muslims who sit in classrooms adorned with Saraswati's portraits. Even the insignia on their belts show the goddess's image. The Hindu manager has not received a single complaint from Muslim parents.

Jama Masjid - The Bangladeshi Heritage

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The cleanest place is perhaps Bangali Masjid, the colony's most prominent landmark. Its courtyard, strewn with neem leaves, hums with the cries of children reciting the Quran. Its walls are painted; its minaret decked with white-and-blue tiles. The Bangladeshis built the mosque. This is their heritage.

Reciting the Quran

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Eminent Citizen

One of the few Bangladeshis left here, he does not want his name to be disclosed. He crossed into India at 18. Although having a voter ID-card, he lives in fear of being picked up by the police. "I don't remember Bangladesh," he says. "My wife is from West Bengal and my children were born here. This is my country."

Information You May Need

On the Road

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50 square yard plots are available at Rs 2000 per square yards. Many PCO-wallas, who double up as property dealers (try Mr. Haneef – 9899465766), could assist you in deals. If interested.

Monday, September 10, 2007

"Shah Rukh has a Lot of Affection for Delhi" - Exclusive Interview with Anupama Chopra

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[Interview by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Anupama Chopra is India's leading film journalist. She writes for India Today and The New York Times. She recently talked to The Delhi Walla on her biography of superstar Shah Rukh Khan - King of Bollywood – Shahrukh Khan and the Seductive World of Indian Cinema. The book is reviewed here.

Mrs. Anupama Chopra, welcome to The Delhi Walla. How is your book King of Bollywood – Shahrukh Khan and the Seductive World of Indian Cinema being received in India, UK and USA?

The book has been received very well. It's already sold over 10,000 copies in India where it also got rave reviews in media such as India Today, Outlook, Verve, and Hindustan Times. I don't have sales figures for the US yet but it has got rave reviews in mainstream American media such as Washington Post, Kirkus Reviews and Forbes.

What was the idea behind the purple cover of the book?

That was designed by the artists at Warner Books. I assume it was done so the cover looked nice and colorful to reflect popular Hindi cinema.

How did you convince Shah Rukh Khan to assist you in writing his biography although he himself is penning his autobiography? How did he also agree to write a blurb for the book?

You'll have to check with him about what exactly convinced him but I told him that I believe that a very good book could be done. A book that spoke about not only his life but also Bollywood and the evolution in India. He said if you are convinced then go ahead. As for the blurb, I just asked him and he agreed.

You are one of the few film critics who treat Bollywood with the respect it deserves. There is no patronizing tone in your reviews. What do you think of Bollywood journalism as it is practiced today? You started your career with the Movie magazine during the 80s. How has the Bollywood journalism evolved since then? Which film magazines you read regularly?

I love Bollywood. I wouldn't spend my life writing about something that I consider inferior, which is probably why you don't find a patronizing tone in my writing. Bollywood journalism has evolved hugely in the last 15-17 years. When I first started, most mainstream Indian media did not cover Bollywood. It was only done by the fanazines. Today, every channel, newspaper and magazine expend reams of space on Hindi film stars and films. So it is occupying much more mindspace but my concern is that much of it is very tabloid-ish and gossipy. I don't look down on that --I enjoy the dirt as much as the next guy but I worry that it is so prominent that it edges out all other types. But there are several writers who do write informative and entertaining stuff on Bollywood. I try to catch Filmfare magazine but don't manage to see it every month. The magazines I read to learn the craft is The New Yorker and Vanity Fair.

Your mother is an eminent Hindi screenplay writer. Your bother is an eminent English novelist. How much they inspired and encouraged you to pursue this career in film journalism and film writing?

Honestly, my mother wasn't too thrilled that I wanted to write about cinema. I did a Masters in Journalism from Northwestern University and then returned to India. People didn't come back then and especially not to do film journalism. So every one was a little shocked. But over the years, she's seen the work I do and I think, she's finally proud of me :) My brother is of course my first reader and editor. To have Vikram Chandra as your editor is the best encouragement that anyone can ask for.

In the book, you did mention Amrita Singh and Juhi Chawla in your sources. But no Rani Mukherjee? Not even Kajol, Shah Rukh's most popular screen partner? Why did not you talk to them?

Only because I felt the book was complete as it was. I spoke more of his romantic personna rather than his most successful pairings so I felt that I would only be wasting their time.

What were the bigger challenges you faced while writing the book? What were the easy parts?

The biggest challenge was structuring the book. I wanted it to trace the evolution of a superstar, a film industry and a country. It also had to speak to both American readers and Indian readers. So I was constantly struggling to figure out the best structure for inter-weaving three threads.

Your research was impressive. How did you trace Shah Rukh's cousin, and his phone number, in Peshawar?

I wrote to several political journalists I know and asked them to connect me to people in Peshawar and those people in turn connected me with Mansoor Khan.

Shah Rukh's stint as the host of Kaun Banega Crorepati is considered an important milestone in his career. You do not think so? Why was it not mentioned in the book?

I think I finished what I had to say by the time he did KBC. I couldn't keep going otherwise the book would never be done.

You must have spent hours listening to Shah Rukh reminiscence on his hometown Delhi. Now his base is, of course, Bombay. How does he look back upon Delhi, a city where he had difficult times? Besides, his parents died there. What does he feel for the city?

I think he has a lot of affection for Delhi. His family from Gauri's side live there. As do many of his friends from his St. Columba days. Gauri and him are in touch with Raman and Vivek who I interviewed for the book. So I'm sure Delhi is as much home as Bombay is.

Perhaps it is too early to ask what your next book would be. Could it be on a film, individual or something else? Won't you be writing a book on Munna Bhai?

I have no thoughts yet on another book but it won't be Munnabhai. Munnabhai is my husband Vidhu Vinod Chopra's film. I think it's a conflict of interest if you write about your own family. You lose credibility.

Your first book, on the making of Sholay, received a National award. Your second book on DDLJ inspired you to write Shah Rukh's biography. Which of these is the favorite of your filmmaker husband?

I think he likes the Shah Rukh book best!

Sholay had moments, like Jai's death scene, which we wish could be changed. What are the moments in Shah Rukh's life you wish to be changed?

Actually I don't think Sholay would be the film it is if Jai had not died. In the same way, I can't imagine that Shah Rukh's life would have turned out the way it has if he hadn't suffered in the way he did. His parents' death was shattering but it also made him the man and star he is today.

You are hosting a show for NDTV. Please tell us more about it.

I script and host a show called Picture This for NDTV. It's a weekly film review show. At first, I was very nervous but now I'm really having fun with it. After waiting to see a final product for four years with this book, the immediacy of television is fabulous. And of course the reach. People have seen the show in China and New York and even Bhutan. It's really thrilling.

Thanks for talking, Mrs. Chopra.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

How I Got Drunk And Lost My Virginity at Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah

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Trance music in Delhi’s most famous sufi shrine.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Every Thursday evening music lovers gather at Nizamuddin dargah. They wait for the Nizami Khusro Bandhu, a family singing here since 750 years, to settle down with their harmoniums and tablas.

As Ustad Meraj, the senior qawwal, leads the singers into sufi love songs, the mood goes electric. More exciting than ticketed concerts, you sit right alongside the singers and watch their eyes popping out, hands slicing the air, and faces dissolving into momentary madness. Beware; you too could end up possessed in a feverish frenzy of longing and sensuousness. This is an incredible out-of-the-body experience. It happened to me too. One Thursday evening.

Ustad Meraj’s voice was low pitched when he started the qawwali. His eyes were dancing with the lusty logic of his lyrics. Gradually the rest of his men picked up the Qawwali. Soon they were singing in chorus. Ustad’s voice was prominent.

Mehboob-e-IIahi
Naksha tera dilkash hai
Soorat teri pyaari hai
O mere Khwaza Nizamuddin
O mere Mehboob-e-Ilahi


Loosely translated:
[One who is loved by The Lord
You looks have won my heart
Your look beautiful
O My Nizamuddin
O my loving Lord]

The first song came to an end. Some admirers presented money to the qawwals. Another harmonium was brought in. A young qawwal shifted to the front. He closed his eyes. His lower lip gently quivered. He had a most moving voice. The longing in it seemed to come from the core of his soul. It was a hymn to Ali – the Shiite leader who was killed about 1400 years ago.

Ustad Meraj soon joined the boy’s solo recital who graciously lowered his volume.

Mein to naam japu Ali ka
Ali-Ali se mera vaasta
Ali-Ali mera maula
Mein to naam japu Ali Ka
Koi Aur Na...


[I will only recite the name of Ali
He is my world
Ali-Ali is my Master
I will only recite the name of Ali
There is nobody else...]

The white tourist sitting next to me started swaying.

Mein to naam japu Ali ka
Ali-Ali se mera vaasta
Ali-Ali mera maula...


The edges of the people’s bodies started dissolving into each other.

Beti ho Zaynab jaisi, beta ho Husayn sa

[Daughters should be like Zaynab, sons should be like Husayn]

There were shrieks of Ali Ali from the crowd.

Pal bhar mein sajda karke
Sar bhi katwa diya


[After a quick prayer
He got his head sliced off]

Bahut khoob (Well said), a man on my right murmured. He was shaking.

Ustad Meraj paused. He started again, raised voice, and sang with a greater urgency. This time the melody was furious. His quickening breath made the words incoherent.

Ali Maula, Ali Maula
Ali Maula Ali Maula


His expressions spilled out from his face. He screamed out from his insides. His low-pitched voice turned piercingly high. His arms shook. His chin quivered. His eyes rolled. His body waved violently. Ustad Meraj had gone mad.

Somebody asked me if I was all right. What could be wrong with me?

Oh, my eyes were rolling (!)

Ali Maula Ali Maula
Ali Maula Ali Maula
AliMaula AliMaula


I know what was happening. I became the universe, the marble, the dust, the sky, the star, and the raindrop.

alimaulalaimaulaalimaula
alimaulalaimaulaalimaula


Finally, it all ended. I came back. Spent and tired, it was time to leave.

The Soft Sufi

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The Portrait of a Marriage

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Life is Unfair

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With Seeing Eyes

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Hail Nizamuddin

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AliAliAliAli

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The Alm Seeker

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The Qawwals

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Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya

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Where Mathura Road When Thursday, After Maghreeb (evening prayers); the qawwalis are held during other evenings on a smaller scale