The Tiger sensation

I am totally zapped. The news that Ek Tha Tiger is the biggest grosser ever makes me sink my face in my palms and ponder. I pondered the same way when I read that Brangelina has decided to walk the aisle. I mean why on earth now they want a wedding? They happily snuggle in exotic locales, have charming kids with efficient nannies in tow and certainly have a Dollar plant in their French hamlet – why now after such a near perfect life they want to get married is just beyond my comprehension. Coming back to our chimerical Tiger, the conundrum called Salman Khan - is equally difficult to fathom.

The movie was OK, despite unbelievable stunts generously thrown in. As a RAW agent, out superhero slides down the stairs on an upturned table, brandishing pistols and pumping bullets into the bad guys. If I were in his place – I would have held my table tight with both the hands and sought forgiveness from the almighty for all my sins.

Next, out superhero, literally hops, skips and jumps onto the roof of a tram in Dublin to chase the bad guy.  He even stops the speeding tram by using the sheer power of his jacket and tensile strength. Another “impossible” stunt that left me bewildered was when our Hero twists a pole with his left hand and swings onto the other building using his support. Now Kabir Khan, you really want me to believe that?

My mouth was agape in most of the scenes – but the last one takes the cake. Our desi bleeding, bruised Bond chases an aircraft on his superbike and re-unites with his ladylove in a very edge-of-the-seat sequence. It’s now when I read that the film has crossed the Rs 200 cr mark, I have realized that Salman Tiger Khan is a roaring phenomenon. I'm sure even those 3 Idiots are devising a formula to decode this mystery called Salman. It's incredible how he makes that humble Ramu kaka gamcha look so uber kool. The houndstooth patterned scarf that Salman wore in the film has its own respectable identity now.

Now whether you like his tawdry bathroom humour or not – he is not stopping midway to please you. He manages to get both seetis and success from his loyal fan base.

All I can say is that weird and unbelievable things happen in reel life and real life (really wants to see if Pitt actually takes away Jolie as his lawfully wedded wife!)

The ''Just Married, Please Excuse'' Contest

I am a pukka Desi at heart. I love one+one deals. Now whether it's a mosquito repellent free with a bug spray or yummy grub along with an interesting book, I don't let go of irresistible offers. It's the pure lure of food at Mamagoto and a bait of Yashodhara Lal's book that makes me write this blog, no matter if some content is rehashed. I have read she is OK with recycled stories.

Here goes my story: It was a month after my arranged marriage, that I shared my horror match-making stories with my husband. Before meeting him, I had met a few "boys" for a potential alliance. This was my story that made him laugh - "Dear hubby, I understood the gravity of the situation when my adamant mother pulled out an ancient kanjeevaram from her closet. The grinning golden peacocks only made matters worse. Her handpicked accessories paired with the crimson Indian sari were to be my passport to the world of arranged marriages.

I realized it was time I put my foot down. I couldn't possibly visualise myself watering the tulsi at break of the dawn everyday! I was no Balajibahu  material and didn't have any intention of beguiling my prospective husband.

Clad in straight fit pants and formal shirt, I embarked on the journey of 'boy watching'. My father's somebody's somebody had fine things to say about this Software Engineer. From what I heard, he was a "well-placed, shy and average looking". Cupid had not really struck me hard so I finally gave in to meet this mystery man.

However the list of instructions I got from my parents didn't exactly enthuse me for the meeting. "Don't interview him", "Be very polite", "Don't gulp down your cola", "Laugh softly..." and some I can't even recall. Taking a deep breath I braced myself to meet a man with whom I could end up spending the rest of my life.

As a punctuality freak I admire people who swear by their clocks. My date certainly didn't seem to have one. I had to stretch my cup of coffee to the breaking point, before Mr X finally turned up.

Let's skip the physical contours. They are not worth mentioning. But yes, his moustache was just a millimeter short of Mangal Pandey's! He had seen my snaps and stiffly nodded his head when our eyes met. I translated that as a hello. He tried moving his right hand back and forth in an awkward manner, but perhaps another set of instructions from his mother held him back. Now my ordeal had begun over a tall glass of juice.

All he could talk about was Java and Oracle, in fragmented, incoherent language. I had to gather the bits and pieces of his hinglish and make meaningful sentences out of them. Personal questions - yeah my favorite colour, hero, heroine, and even animal!! I simply couldn't laugh when he cracked his' was a mouse! He wound up this part of the insipid conversation with a laugh that scared the living daylights out of me.

Next thing he talked about was my educational (dis) qualification. I was rather proud of the fact that I studied English Literature and would have loved to go beyond my Masters. English - Mr. X seemed surprised or perhaps shocked. After all, it had left me quite incapable of sharing his hopeless passion for hard drives, C++ and more. "So what did you study - making sentences, writing essays, filling the blanks and doing match-the-following?" making little effort to hide the scorn in his voice. By now my ire knew no bounds. I had to drop loaded phrases like 'post-colonial novellas', 'Greek tragedies' and 'third world literature'. It gave me immense satisfaction when I realised that it was all OHT (Over Head Transmission) for this frog of the World Wide Well!

Mr X wasn't looking for a wife. He was a looking for a miracle - an outgoing and conservative working homemaker. With so many paradoxes in one sentence, I wondered if he was ever going to find his Ms Right. Certainly it wasn't going to be me. We were as different as chalk from cheese.

If I had any doubts about the matter, they were laid to rest when Mr X wasted no time in accepting my half-hearted offer to pay the restaurant bill. Let alone practice chivalry, this man didn't even know how to spell it.

My rendezvous with Mr. X was therefore no less than a catastrophe. But I guess that's how you learn about disaster management in life!"

After recounting my tales, I was sure that he was comfortable enough to give out out his horror stories as well!

Romancing Delhi

For a quick lesson in the rich and turbulent history of sadi Dilli, the sound and light show at the Purana Qila (Old Fort) is a must watch! The fort stands majestic between the Kilkari Bhairav Mandir and the National Zoological Park and is known to be the sixth of the seven cities that make up modern day Delhi. 

A boring Sunday evening immediately turned vibrant and pulsating the moment the grandiose show began. Aptly named as ‘Ishq-e-Dilli’, the one-hour show beautifully juxtaposes modern techniques like lasers, video projections and digital drawings to tell a 5000-year-old historical tale of the capital.

The sonorous background scores, lavish use of imagery and electrifying illustrations made the first person narrative even more spirited. From Mughals to the Britishers, the historical saga of Delhi was laid out in this stunning art show. The narrative begins with 11^th Century emperor Prithiviraj Chauhan and proceeds towards Lodhis, Mughals, Britishers and finally Independent India. Each ruler had a unique love affair with Delhi and each one had a role in drawing different contours of our vibrant city.                  

             

                

Interesting anecdotes of these Mughal lovers of Delhi, kept me on the edge of my seat. The dervish dances glorifying Khwaja and a dance rendition on Chhap tilak transported us to a mystic era that is associated with Turkish music, courtesans, parapets, conniving emperors and blood-soaked battlefields. All of which was once witnessed by our capital city.

Those riotous times were aptly summed up by the narrator in Amir Khusrau’s tenor, “Khusrau dariya prem Ka, ulti waa ki dhaar; jo utra so doob gaya, jo dooba so paar” which is translated as ‘Oh Khusrau, the river of love, runs in strange directions, one who jumps into it drowns, one who drowns, gets across”. Clearly, it was the thirst of the throne which resulted in several wars of succession.           

Selected pages from the annals of Delhi’s legendary past were brought to life. The game of dice at Hastinapur and Draupadi’s disrobing episode, the tragic death of Humayun who tumbled down the stairs of his library and Bahadur Shah Zafar laying down arms before the British – all these and many more references were encompassed in this engrossing show. The style is movingly expressive and never slips into overblown oratory.          

Ishq-e-Dilli is a love affair that haunts the viewer for a long time. The sound system is so good that it forces you to turn your back expecting a herd of horses each time you hear galloping. There are no screens, no characters in flesh and blood and no physical props – yet each event is given a throbbing life with the state-of-the-art 3-D video projection against the backdrop of the fort.

Only word of caution: Do slather layers of ODOMOS on your body if you don’t want to be devoured by a scourge of mosquitoes. Also, the entry pass soon doubled up as a hand fan, so choose a pleasant breezy evening for your show. We opted for the Hindi show in August which started from 7:30 pm and lasted an hour. I am now eager to watch the English version too. At Rs 80 for an adult and Rs 40 for children above three, this is a love affair to remember!