Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Great Indian Spoofomania.

There are times when I watch television, and am amazed at the sheer silly creativity of the script writers, the absolute audacious way of giving birth to a crazy idea and the patience in stretching it five hundred times beyond its tensile limit.

Three cheers or rather jeers to Indian television -

The best or the funniest part is in watching Crime serials, which feature investigation trails. Now picture this!

Mr Ratan Ramsukhani is murdered in broad daylight at his palatial bungalow in Bandra. Before the first commercial break, The CID team reaches there. Now bear in mind, this is a team of 8 to 9 people all dressed to kill and with a keen talent to ask the most unexpected questions just before the next commercial break.This team will have so many ego hassles and individual compatibility issues that you 'd doubt, whether its just the producer's paycheck that glues them together.

With this team, you will have a forensic expert who dabbles with as many pipettes, colored waters,microscopes,and powders as would your neighbourhood pathologist.
And gullible viewers are taken back to a school chemistry ride.
"Sir, If we put his adipose tissue in potassium permanganate and it turns cadmium red, it means that he took the ecstacy drug 7 and a half hours before suicide"

What would you call that? Switch channels and come to the soaps, you now see so much color that, even a blind man can be bedazzled by the grandeur and the pomp of the fabrics.You 'd love the respect and the love oozing out of the huge studio bungalows, only that the respect fuels envy which fuels jealousy which fuels hatred which fuels villany which fuels repentance which fuels forgiveness which fuels love which fuels respect. Phew! After three hundred more episodes, its time for this cycle to repeat with a different character, and knowing that you 'd have more than a hundred such protagonists with several thousand distant relatives, the script writers can churn out stuff till seventeen generations after Eternity.

For people with sports on their mind, you have games/sports of any kind, always on.However I wouldn't be able to spoof away much here - am a true sports enthusiast, but I wonder who would care to watch a football match in far off Manipur, especially if, apart from the players, there are 2 people watching the game - the two football coaches - Isn't Sports about the crowd, the spirit, the fervour, the excitement and the noise? But maybe Doordarshan Sports, follows a different dictionary.

Television cannot be complete without the mention of The news. This is a view of the the world from within our homes, Our window to the vast unparalleled space outside us, The real or reel picture of everything that can be an event or probably not.Here we have men in gelled hair speaking to revered leaders, sportspersons, spiritual gurus - like they 'd address their dog, We have every News channel screaming that this piece of news is exclusively captured only on this one channel. If everyone shows you the same picture as an exclusive report, The word 'exclusive is a gross misnomer'. To get their news channel higher on the ladder, We see journalists treading on the sensibilities of the hapless victims, where the news is not about them - They are the News!. Oh yes! You also have very hairy bearded men who scream like their lungs dont care, like the microphones were not invented and go on about how a crime was committed giving you the most grisly details, killing your appetite for the day.

There 's so much more to spoof upon, but the lights have just gone out and with the television switched off, Sleep wants to spend time with me. And to her, I must listen, and I whfdjdf dfegedg , zzz zzz zzz zzz !

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Inji and her story

A true story that never happened.

"Mom, I'm leaving for work; and will be late".Before her mom could react, Inji had galloped down the stairs of her fourth floor apartment. You wouldn't call her a workaholic, but a talkaholic or a eataholic.A day in the life of Inji would revolve around gossip, food, sleep and little or no work. When the day began, she thought that this would be one of her stereotyped days.. But!
Inji was 22, a thin, tall young girl who liked wearing heels the shape of stilettoes. Her height would give any man an inferiority complex and so would, her attitude. She was this -in your face- kind of a girl, who had an answer to every question, and if not, She had a question for every answer. Inji vroomed away on her scooterette, a bright red machine, which rarely saw speeds of less than fifty.
The speedometer was her adrenaline rush in the morning and even today, barely ten minutes after leaving her house, she had screeched into her office parking space.
People at the workplace greeted her with loud hellos, something which was commonplace. Everything around Inji had to be loud and noisy. And there was a special reason for the noise too. It was her birthday today. Inji had loads of sweets to be given off to her folks at work. This was her fun day.After a whole day of answering the phone, and the cake smearing ceremony- Inji decided to leave for the day .
But the day had not ended for her, she was to meet her other friends whom she had promised for dinner.
The dinner was just as she had planned.Music playing in the background, sumptuous food and an even better company. It was just getting better.Star sign talk was the order of the day, it seemed. "Injo!, But whatever you say, you are not a Scorpion - I mean, the characteristics do not match", said Arpita. "Oh, yeah Madam Linda Goodman you are the original" That was Shaurya, with a sarcastic smile. "That was rude, Shaurya, I do not get into the Schumachers and the Alonsos, Do I?" "Hey, Hey, Hey- Why are we fighting" interrupted Inji. "And such a trivial topic at that!"
"This isn't trivial Injo!, Seriously, you dont fit the part - You should have been a Libran, everything about you is so so Libran!". But one thing was certain, nobody could dispute the fact that after Linda Goodman and her shadow, if it was anyone closer to the signs - it was Arpita Chattopadhyay. A bookie to the core, and with a special inclination towards stars, tarots, numbers, palms. Her character analysis was immaculate. Inji smiled, "You are right, my birthday is actually on the 5th of October." There was deathly silence all around. Even the singer with his guitar on the stage paused, he was actually finding his next song. "Heehaaha", guffawed Inji. "Wait a minute, Jo - What is the 18th of November then"? "People, there was an incident that happened years back", said Inji, barely able to contain her chaotic laughter. "My school records show my birthday as the 5th of October, a definite mistake". Even the 200 pounder Arijit was now listening intently, having stopped slurping now. "What 's going on?, 5th October"? That voice was Tiara's, the detective in the group. She was not much of a reader, but the criminal psychology major had had too much of an effect on her. She loved the killer movies and forensics was one of her pet interests. "Let me explain" said Inji, who had now regained her composure."We had a goof-up, the birth certificate got exchanged with a certain Mr Pinto's daughter". And you all know the absent minded Mr Rasmus Pinto , my dad. He never checked the birth certificate until I was in the second grade". Stunned silence again. No one spoke a word. "What! Why are you people staring at me. That's the story. So in school, I wore colored dresses on the 5th of October. Children sang me the Happy birthday song on this day. That was school.." Tiara was the first one to break the silence. "There is something fishy here, This is not as transparent as it looks. What if, you are actually born on the 5th of October and not on the 18th of November"? Arijit moved the plate away to keep both hands on the table. Knowing him, this meant a serious moment. "Come on, folks - there was a goof-up, but you all know me since college right?" she paused for effect. "18th it is!". "But the Libran characteristics?" I dont have to tell you who that was. "I guess, your parents owe you a creditable explanation Miss Inji, No absent minded parent forgets to look at the birth certificate until his kid is 7 years old." Tiara seemed agitated and excited as if she had just started off on a murder trail.
Oops. That was some statement. Symbolically, the singer announced a 10 minute break from the live music and left for a pint of beer.That did set Inji thinking, If you see Inji and not hear her, she 's definitely thinking hard. The rest of the dinner saw Inji very subdued. "You may well, be Inji Ramanathan for all you know", remarked Arijit. Those words were not well chosen, Inji smiled a wry smile."Or What if, you are the maid's daughter and you were adopted by the Pintos ". "Oh, stop it! Tiara, Jo! Have the tortillas, You seem to have stopped eating".
Inji reached home and found her parents away. The plot thickens. Her parents were away on a late night movie show. She spent the next 2 hours like a prisoner doomed to walk to the gallows. Needless to say, the doorbell was louder than ever before.She waited for her parents to settle down and then confronted them. "What was the birth certificate issue, Dad?, Why the 5th of October?". "Err, Why this question, now?". Dad questioned. His forehead was all wrinkled now.Mom smiled a very casual smile. "Inji, We have to tell you this, It had to be out someday". "Bring it out, Mom" Inji almost shrieked."See, its not a case of absentmindedness on your Dad's part. We were warned that your birth had to be in an odd numbered month or your school career would have a lot of issues. October was even, so we got the ceritificate doctored to make it November. This was suggested as a way out for this problem" "And we did not want you to get worried about this unnecessarily". Dad added.
Inji was not entirely convinced, but was relieved. She reached her room and soon enough, Sleep conquered her- She had had a long day.
The next morning, while she was getting ready for work, she saw that her mom's bedroom was latched. Her Mom would normally not close the door. She heard her Mom talking on the phone, very very softly. She tried to put her ears to the door.
She heard her Mom speak, "We should not have lied to her yesterday".