It is said that in whichever corner of India you go to, you will always find a shop that sells Eveready Batteries, Nirodh condoms and copies of Bhagat’s books (not necessarily in that order).

What Timur did to world history, leaving behind mountains of skulls and altering boundaries of kingdoms, Mr. Bhagat has done to Indian literature revolutionizing it in a way that people never thought possible, breaking the strangle-hold of the ivory-towerist, Humanities-graduate, Proust-reading Illuminati over the domain of English writing with his alphanumeric titles (Five point someone, Two States, One Night, Three Mistakes)  bringing literary enlightenment truly to the “pIpL”.

I admire him for the vital role he plays in solving India’s urgent problems—like judging who will become Miss India 2010, his prodigious ability to block, that would put Jimmy “Padams” to shame and most importantly for his role as India’s modern day “reformer” as evidenced by what he is quoted as saying in an article titled “I am 90 per cent entertainer, 10 per cent reformer” [Link]

I tell 500 people how to do their job better everyday. People are inspired by me. Even if 10 people do it – that makes a difference and I succeed in my mission to change the system,’ he said.

I usually get my fix of inspiration from the TOI editorials he writes, where he brings nuanced non-cliched analysis, fresh ideas and totally out-of-the-box solutions for the problems of today’s youth. So today as I was reading one of his editorial gems (titled “The Great Indian Psychotherapy”) I was shaking my head in awe-inspired agreement till I came across something that had me shocked, as shocked I would be to see my name in the rolling credits.

And change does happen. In the 80s, we had movies like “Gunda” and “Khoon Pi Jaaonga”. Today, our movies have better content .They have changed. How? It is because our expectations from films have changed. Hence, the filmmakers had to change.

First of all, what movie is “Khoon Pi Jaaonga”? A fragment of a dialog from Garam-paaji made into a movie? A sequel to “Life of Pi”? A double bill of “Khoon Bhari Maang” and “Paap Ko Jalakar Raakh Kar Doonga”?

And “Gunda”, which was made in 1998 (another version made in 1969) is from the 80s? And even more importantly, “Gunda” is a bad movie?

I am sorry Mr. Bhagat you have just drawn my Prophet. And insulted the religious feelings of many others for whom “Gunda” is our only contact with a higher being. Sure it does not have the IIM-IIT lingo that your readers find so appealing but tell me if “khatiya khada karna” and “lamba karna” isnt all about “verticals” and “horizontals” and “London se sex ka goli” isnt about globalization, then what is? If you endorse One Night at a Call Center, why do you consider it down-market for real men to spend a night at Lucky Chikna’s “Call Center” Lataka Circus? Can your male heroes, all the Ryan Oberois and what nots, hold a candle to Bullah’s “rakhta hoon main khulla” masculinity? Or do they scream “Dekho na, dekho na bhaiyaa yeh log mujhe cher rahe hain” when twitter-fools fly on them with rude hashtags?

Even more importantly, for a person whose essential argument for his own excellence is that he is the “people’s choice” and “awaam kabhi jhoot naheen bolta” how is it consistent to call “bad” something that had the awaam’s approval in the 90s? Oh ok I get it now. According to the man, the tastes of the common people have gotten better over the years, presumably after being “reformed” and “inspired” by the great Indian authors and film-makers of today. Which is why good movies like “I Hate Luv Stories”, “Kites” and oh yes quite forgot “Hello” (Atul Agnihotri-directed celluloid masterpiece made based on “One Night”)  are made now-a-days.

I wish though I could tell Mr. Bhagat at length, how the average crap level has stayed the same over the decades (I would say the sheer amount of crap has sharply increased as a matter of fact with more movies) with the only thing that has changed is that movies are technically sleeker and made to different formulae, as cliched thematically as those before but with a patina of fraud-profundity, making them more acceptable to a multiplex-going, Face-booking, Karbon Kamaal, Be-the-change,  Masti main jeeyo, yeh hain Youngistan ka attitude, Bhagat-reading audience. I wish I could tell him, again in detail, how great movies like “Chashme Buddoor”, “Jaane Bhi Do Yaron” and many others were being made in the 80s to go along with the trifling stuff, just to show that even then, audience tastes were sufficiently “refined”. I wish I could give more examples and make a more coherent argument but Gunda ka naam sunte hi usne khada kar diya hai mera, gusse se ek ek baal khara kar diya.

Zalzala jaag utha hai. Gang war shuru hone wala hai.

Our patience is at its end. Do chaar chaaye aat dus. Bus Mr. Bhagat. Bus.

After seven years in jail and after his family is wiped out by a big chocolate bomb, Bhairav comes back for baadlaa. The first girl he seduces and sends to a hotel while he goes to buy her wedding dress. But instead he calls the cops and gets her arrested as a call-girl. He barges into the wedding of the second and pretends to be her abandoned husband, thus also ruining her life. For the third woman (who actually committed the murder albeit accidentally) he disguises himself as her husband, gets her to make the obvious mistake and gets photographic evidence of her kissing him.

And just as you as an audience begin to sympathize with these three girls, thus so cruelly punished for one mistake, you remember that line:

Jo doosron ke ghar ujaad kar aapne ghar basaana chahte hain, unke ghar uparwala kabhi basne naheen deta.

[God never let those who seek to settle down by unsettling the house of others succeed]

Exhibit 1: Billionaire Allan Stanford bounced a British cricket player’s pregnant wife on his knee while shamelessly flirting with the wives of other cricketers [video]. Drunk with the arrogance of daulaat, he never realized ” doosre ki behen aur biwi pe nazar daalne waale ka kabhi accha naheen hota”. Now faced with multibillion dollar fraud charges, the shoe is now on the other foot. Or more precisely, the person who will be bouncing on somebody else’s knee has changed.

Exhibit 2: . The IPL has been forced to take its games outside India because of the General Elections.Good luck to the BCCI making money off matches being held in Johannesberg between teams representing Calcutta and Mohali. “Korbo lorbo dubbo re” indeed. [Do, fight and sink]

What has been interesting is that what began as Chidambaram’s objections to a clash of election dates in specific states with IPL matches (note the gentler tone of the objection here “The minister denied that he had suggested that IPL be postponed” and “To a query, Chidambaram said he did not want the IPL to move out of the country”) soon showed a not insignificant hardening of stance when Chidambaram insisted that match dates should not clash with elections in not just that state but also neighboring states , essentially rendering the IPL impossible.

Whether the IPL being held along with the elections would just have been an avoidable high-risk endeavor in today’s troubled times or whether the effective cancellation was a politically motivated decision by the Congress (note that most BJP states and also West Bengal gave the green signal for the IPL—-after all in times of recession, you need such things to get the cash flowing in local economies) is a matter of debate.

However considering what the IPL did and continues to do to the ICL, from refusing to let grounds maintained by state associations be used to running to the ground anyone who dares to be associated with the India Cricket League, in a manner that even the Triads would consider excessive in its retributive zeal, I cannot resist, even while sympathizing with the IPL, from saying “Bhagwan ke ghar main der hain par andher naheen hai.”

Finally is it a coincidence considering what has happened to IPL that one of the franchise owners in ICL is Mithun-da himself, who many believe has God’s cellphone number on speed dial.

Ai salaaaaaaaaaaa.

–Jimmy (2008)

A dead girl has been found. The police investigator Rahul Dev tells Jimmy: “ladki ki mutthi main paayi gaaye hain tumhare baal”. As we all know, when a girl’s dead body is unearthed that too with a man’s “baal” in her hand and with his driving license right next to her, the case seems to be pretty clear and shut. The final nail in the coffin is when Jimmy, an automotive engineer (Matlab Simulink guru) during day and DJ (Dancing Joker) at night, confesses to the heinous crime with a “khoon kiya hain maine” that echoes for effect.

The final nail did I say?

Wrong !

The real drama is only just beginning.

Cause in “Jimmy”, by far the year’s best “zero level” movie till now, nothing is as it seems.

As the audience navigates through its twisted and very sophisticated plot, almost every other scene seems to throw up yet another new conundrum.

Why for instance does Jimmy confess to wearing two socks on the same foot?

Why does the breakfast of a man obviously struggling with his weight (i.e. Jimmy) consist of a pile of white bread and two eggs?

What kind of dystopic world is it where Shakti Kapoor is a police inspector? [Sidelight: Shakti's character is introduced with the camera focusing on him scratching his buttocks?

Why does everyone in the movie think aloud and "introduce themselves" to the camera as they make their first appearance?

Why does a father say to his son: "Yeh thappad ko mat bhoolna mere bete. Tere maan ne bhi mujhe aisi thappad mari thi"?

How come the police investigator, Rahul Dev, is always present in the shadows listening everytime anyone says anything of importance?

Why is it that for a movie that takes place supposedly in the present time, all the prices are those prevailing during the 80s? (A murder accomplice is bribed the princely sum of two lacs !)

Does Jimmy swing both ways like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct?

Why, when an evil man is trying to smother Jimmy by putting a plastic bag on his face, is Jimmy seen holding on to the bag around his neck while being punched, as if somehow the director has told Mimoh, playing Jimmy, to hold the bag in its place lest it come off?

Why does the evil man wear overcoats and cowboy boots?

Why does the murderer get Shakespearan and yell "Am I a rejected person?"

Can Jimmy control the laws of Physics, like his dad can?

And most importantly, why was this movie ever made?

Let me answer the last question and leave you to find the answers for the rest yourself.

"Jimmy", named after the iconic song "Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Aaja Aaja" from Prabhuji's leela "Disco Dancer", is the launch vehicle for Mithun-da's son Mimoh Chakraborty or as we call him around here Baby Prabhu.

A bit of history. Mimoh, named after Michael Jackson and Mohammed Ali (there is a tribute to Michael Jackson in "Jimmy" ----no there was no children involved but Jimmy grooves to a song to the tune of Billy Jean)was in his own words, studying astrophysics, planning to get into NASA (possibly as a rocket ballast) and struggling with his 120 Kg weight, when he got bitten by the acting bug, went to the US and trained under the greatest cinematic shaolins.

And now with "Jimmy" he is here to show us what he has learnt. And to answer the question: does Mimoh have it in him to become the next cinematic demi-God?

I can say, with pride, that he does.

First the dancing---the most important arrow in the quiver of a serious actor.

Forget Hrittik.

Forget Shakira.

Mimoh can move.

Whether it be the breaks, the Jackson jhatkas, the robot or the "intestine" move (here Jimmy moves his body sinuously as if it is the large intestine forcing a lump of digested food through to the orifice of ejection), Jimmy's dance is Godly----it is almost like watching the dance of Shiva with Mimoh's feet giving off cosmic background radiation.

Of course due credit must be given to Bappa Lahiri, son of Bappi Lahiri for giving Mimoh amazing music to dance to.

Just like Mithun-da and Bappi Lahiri changed the course of India in the 80s, their sons get together to make history once again with Bappa showing he is a chip of the old block by ripping off the refrain from Eminem's "Shake that ass for me" for the song "Boomshanker Bolo".Equally amazing is the song "Marhabba" which when sung by the chubby-cheeked Mimoh sounds like "Morobba", which in Bengali (Mimoh's mother tongue) means jelly.

Then of course there is the physique. Now we are all well aware that Mimoh has been panned for being "fat". Let me assure that Mimoh is not fat. He is, as Eric Cartman of South Park would say, big-boned. What makes him look corpulent is that he has does have a fat baby face (as well as voice) on a well-developed physique. Blame it on his mother Yogeeta Bali whose face (and perhaps metabolism) Mimoh has inherited. As Mimoh, in a tribute to his mother (a tribute sure to bring tears to the eye of all mothers).

I've very broad shoulders. I've inherited these big bones and the muscular look from my beautiful mother.

Now you cannot hold the "muscular look" against him---can you?

And finally the acting. A graduate from the New York Film Academy, Mimoh is a living testament as to how useful a 3 month crash course in the US can be. What many do not know is that he was accompanied in his US sojourn by Mithun-da who cooked for him and cleaned his apartment so that Mimoh can gain the maximum benefit from his education. And the investment that has been made into Mimoh's histrionic abilities has paid off, many times over as amply demonstrated by his performance in Jimmy which lesser reviewers (many of whom have no Amrika background in movies) have called wooden, amateurish and infantile.

These people have not only nitpicked about Mimoh's performance but also commented negatively on the movie "Jimmy" in general calling it a cheap rehash of all the hoary old Hindi movie cliches arranged one after another---the poor man loving the rich girl, the evil partner trying to marry his "aiyaash" spolit brat to the rich girl, the all-suffering mother, dialogs like "mere saans aap ke paas gidvi hain" ("saans" [breath] and not saas [mother-in-law]) etc etc. Of course these people do not understand the concept of a “tribute to the 80s” and, like Kangsa Mama and Pontius Pilate, fail to recognize divinity even when it is right in front of their face.

So ignore these reviewers and other assorted fools who know not what they do or say.

Do the right thing.

See “Jimmy”.

And believe.

Bhaiyya bhaiyaa, maaro isko. Yeh aadmi hain na mujhe bahoot danger dikhta hain. Yeh aap ka sara hua tiger naheen hain. Yeh to mujhko Bengal ka tiger dikthaa hain

.

–Chutiya (Shakti Kapoor) about Shankar (Mithun Chakraborty) [movie: Gunda (1998)]

Yes ! In a sign that God does exist and that He cares about cricket, if not about humanity, Mithun Chakraborty has decided to take over Kolkata Tigers (now called Bengal Tigers for obvious reasons), the franchise that represents the city of Calcutta (and now Bengal) in the beleaguered India Cricket League.

And this is not a moment too soon. With a certain evil cricket corporation headed by a certain “kafanchor neta” attacking anyone who has had anything to do with the India Cricket League with the same avarice that the evil zamindars and the dons reserve for the underprivileged in Mithun-da flicks, the arrival of Prabhuji had become a cosmic necessity. Who knows, if the advent had been delayed, the inevitable “kahaan ja rahi ho chammak challo, aaja janeeman” scene, that occurs within the first 45 minutes of any Prabhuji flick may also have come to pass with the targets being the sisters of those associated with the ICL in any way.

Just as Mithun-da created an alternate Bollywood at Ooty with wasted actors, overweight starlets, bargain-basement technical crew, we the Bhakts are positive that he will best the Bollwood glamor of the Knight-Riders with his team of washed-out oldies and disheartened young guns, whom some of the evil men supporting IPL may refer to as “bin petrol ke gadi aur bin naashe ke taari” (Loha)

Of course many people do not believe this. For them IPL vs ICL is a no-contest. According to them, Shahrukh Khan and the BCCI have everything in their favor. The mega bucks, the superstar aura, the marketing she-bang, the support of the cricket establishment and the “Korbo Lorbo Jeetbo Re”. What they forget to take into account is that unlike Mithunda these “sara hua tigers” do not control the laws of physics, cannot dispatch enemies with one finger and cannot mobilize people from West Dinajpur to the Western Ghats with one cry of “Aeeee salaaaa”. And most importantly, they neither have Prabhuji’s heart nor can they draw upon the tidal wave of hysteria that is sweeping the country as the Son of God, Mimoh is launched by one of Bollywood’s top banners. Namely Raj Sippy.

Eat that SRK. Even as a senior star in Bollywood, you do not have 1500 directors lining up in front of your house begging to have you in their movie. Mimoh does. That’s not all. At the mere age of 16, Mimoh was studying astrophysics at 16 and about to get into NASA. What were you Mr. Khan doing at a similar age? Don’t bother saying. We know.

Do remember, dear sir, Mimoh is just the son. Not the father.

And it is the father with whom you and your team of puffed-up of superstars have to contend with.

And finally a “chetawni” message to the BCCI gundas, those “shaitaani type ke bacche” who have revealed a vicious nasty side in recent months that even their worst detractors could not have envisaged.

Do char chaaye aath dus. Bus BCCI Bus.

Prabhuji is here.

And when he is in the mix, dushamon ki laashon par bhangra karne waala laangra ho jaata hain.

But sometimes, just sometimes, something happens that totally makes me lose my cool and lash out with righteous anger and vengeance.

I am referring to Biharsharif MLA Sunil Kumar Singh’s, chairman of some organization acronymed BIMPA (Bihar-Jharkhand Motion Pictures Association), imposed ban on the showing of any movie that stars Mithun Chakraborty in the states of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh since April.

If Mr. Singh’s goonda-gardi had been restricted to just Prabhuji I would still have been been angry but perhaps not as frothing at the mouth like I am now. But no, that dark agent of Sauron has gone further and even banned movies of Mithun-putra Mahashakti-shaali, God of all things, Mimoh. (not that Mimoh has any movies released but that’s not the point)

For those of you ignorant enough to be reading this for the first time, here is the background.

Mithun-da did a Bengali movie called “Coolie” produced by one Sunil Singh. Just like all Mithun movies, it was a critically acclaimed megahit. Secure in the knowledge that he has a money-maker in his hands, this producer Mr. Singh went and dubbed the movie in Bhojpuri without seeking permission from Mithun-da and poor Prabhuji was left without any share of the new revenue.

Naturally he was furious. I would be too if I suddenly saw my posts being translated into Bhojpuri under the name “Randomwa Bakchodi“. [Because noone in their right mind would accept an affront to Prabhuji, Bollywood has decided not to shoot in these two states till the ban on Mithun and Mimoh is lifted.]

Needless to say I also cannot sit silent. So here’s what I am going to do, in support of my God. As long as this ban on Mithun-da remains in the states of Bihar and UP, there will be a “tit-for-tat” ban on Bhojpuri songs here at RTDM. Yes I know. I have done a lot in promoting Bhojpuri talent in the past and while I have no beef with the individual artists, I think a line has been crossed and action is needed. So Rasia Tailor, kindly take your dus minot blouses elsewhere. Buchi darling, I couldn’t care less if your seal has been tampered with. Bhojpuri spice girls, take your kasam se gol gol nimboodas elsewhere—I am not interested in them even if you dangle them in my face.

[Lest I forget, I should say thanks to Bipasa Basu for endorsing the intellectual content in Mithun-da's movies.

I grew up partly in Delhi and Kolkata. I was more of a bookworm and was quite academically inclined. Rather, I was more clued in to Mithun Chakraborty’s films.

]

So angry am I that not only have I imposed a ban on Bhojpuri entertainment, I shall also take this opportunity to promote their competition.

First, there is this [video link] awesomely picturized Sambalpuri (Oriya) video (Chum Chum) that depicts a typical evening in one of Sambalpur’s hottest nightclubs—Dilkhush bar (the font makes it look like Dickhush), undoubtedly the world’s trendiest drinking hole that has an asbestos roof. A simple song of a girl whose legs are burning (kodomo puriya jaaye), it blends in rustic steps and techno effects in a way that can only be called truly eclectic.

And then there are these two videos from the heart of Jat-land (thanks Thalassa) . The first from the mega hit album “Bulbul ka baccha” that etches a typical picture from a Jat wedding where the handsome best man is dancing and asking the groom to “kar de joogar” (provide them) with his attractive sister-in-laws. [video link]

And the second is a video [video link] about Jatt pride —” I am made in Ludhiana. I am made in Haryana” where the hero, and his dirty dancing friends, entreat the modestly dressed heroine to recognize the “real deal”.

Now that I have dealt a blow to the Bhojpuri entertainment industry with my own ban and by the promotion of its competitors, let me now conclude with some insights that should put the fear of Prabhu-ji in the people at BIMPA.

It has been revealed (link) that Mithun-da has not bathed for a week, in preparation for a role. Which means that he is now totally a tiger—in looks, growls, attitude and even smell. [Question: The buzz is that you didn’t take a bath for over a week for that lost look in the film, Ekta Nadir Galpo...Mithun: I am sincere in whatever I do (laughs).]

And we all know what happens to people who take pangas with tigers.

Also lastly, dear Mr Singh. While illegally dubbing your movie into Bhojpuri, didn’t you even understand the threat from Mithunda that was implied in a song from that very film:[video link]

Thanda mathaye thaaki bole danda dekash na,
Rongbaaji ta bhaloi jaani seta bhoolish na,
Matka gorom hole mama,
Kauke chaari na.

Which roughly (I have added my own embellishments in order to convey the sense of what is being said) translates to:

Just because I keep my head cool,
Do not show me your aggressive tool,
Do not get forget oh Mr. tough,
I also know how to play rough,
Uncle, when my head is no longer calm,
Prepare to apply on your ass: Jhandu balm.

Be afraid Mr. Singh. Be very afraid.

“There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who have seen “Gunda”. And those who shall see it.” ——Roger Abhert

Interviewer: Let’s get right to that age-old question fans and critics ask the moment they step out of the theatres—why? What made you make Gunda?

KS: The mid 90s were marked by great intellectual ferment and socio-political change in India. With unbridled economic liberalisation strengthening the unholy cabal of politicians and moneyed ruffians (I refer to this in Gunda as “aaj gundagiri aur netagiri dono eki baap ke do harami aulaad hain) , the nation witnessed fundamental transformations —a fact that was being systematically overlooked by popular escapist entertainment which minted money through vacuous NRI romances, forgetting its solemn duty to be the mirror of its times.

In 1997, I sought to make a statement through “Loha” where I tried to weld together the pernicious effects on the fabric of India of the new media (Inspector Kale, the evil policeman whenever he is asked to counter crime says “Main jayoon, Zee TV dekhne?”), caste (“driver ki ladki itni sexy!“), the fondling of a man’s bottom by another man (“mawali log tujhe chikna chikna bolke tere peechwar-e pe haath pherte the“) and existential angst (“Abh main bin petrol ki gari aur bin nashe ke tari hoon, main woh phateli sari hoon jo ek hijra bhi naheen pahenegi” ). However, because of the demands of the producer we had to put in a totally unrelated Govinda- Monisha romance angle that destroyed the celluloid mosaic I had intended “Loha” to be. Taking the lesson that even moderately big budgets require you to sell your artistic soul, I decided to make Gunda (derived from the German “Gund” meaning war and which some etymologists claim has been formed by the insertion of the word “Lund” into the word “Gaand” making it “G+ und”) by myself on a shoe-string budget, determined not to compromise my creativity in any manner.

Interviewer: Certain critics consider Gunda to represent the very worst of everything Bollywood has to offer. A done-to-death revenge plot, gratuitous violence especially towards women, shocking language and over-the-top acting. How do you react to that criticism?

KS: These critics are unfortunately literalists. And while they applaud the surreal appeal of Fellini’s La Strada, they are unwilling to put away their neorealist sensibilities while evaluating Gunda. My movie, intentionally confined by the grammar of popular cinema so as to make the message accessible to the hoi polloi, is actually an allegory where each villain represents something larger than just himself. More specifically, each villain here is a metaphor for the challenges facing India in the 90s.

Let me explain.

First there is Bulla, the main evil man. His motto is “Mera naam hain Bulla, rakhta hoon main khullaaaaaa“. While the literalists interpret this as a declaration that this man does not wear underwear, most right-thinking viewers will immediately realize that Bulla represents the “open” economy—that instrument of the capitalist West to suck out the life blood from the unwashed masses. Yes Bulla’s malignancy represents the depredations wrought by the “khullam-khulla capitalist system” with its removal of protection for farmers and small industries: in short the principal villain of the 90s.

Next there is Chutiya, Bulla’s hermaphrodite brother who is kept alive through a steady supply of “London se sex ki goliyan” in the hope that he becomes a “mard” or man. Chutiya represents the confused generation of the 90s, neutered morally at birth and slowly converted into a perverted abomination by the erotic media images from MTV and Channel V (the sex ki goliyan).

Then there is Pote—jo aapne baap ki bhi naheen hote. He represents those who revel in wanton violence ; whose raison d’etre for living is in inflicting pain and suffering—-kind of like those who took the lead during the Babri Masjid riots and later in Gujrat. And their life philosophy is articulated by Pote when he declares, with barely controlled glee that: “Hum aise lashein bicha denge jaise kisi nanhen munhen bacche ke nunhi se pesaab tapakta hain…tap tap“. When the sound of dead bodies falling on the ground resonates like the pitter-patter of an innocent baby’s urine striking the cobble stones—you know that the country is in trouble.

The 90s were marked by greedy industrialists, servants of pure avarice, who made common men kneel down and suck their bananas while they aggrandized themselves. This class is crystallized in the character of Ibu Hatela whose patented introduction is “Mera naam Ibu Hatela, Ma meri chudail ki beti, baap mera shaitan ka chela, khayega kela?” Their natural proclivity to go through the backdoor of the economic system is expressed through Ibu Hatela’s repeated use of lines like “Hum uske pantloon pharenge. Woh bhi peeche se”

And of course the law, as represented by Inspector Kale ,(a bit of Quentin-ish self-reference here as the cop in Loha also had the same name) had by the 90s become an extension of the criminal system. This is conveyed, without pulling any punches, in the scene where an honest policeman (the hero’s father) accuses Kale of being hand-in-glove with the criminals through the poetic denouncement: “Lagta haain Bulla ka thukh chata hain tumhe, peshaab piya hain uska“. Licking spit and drinking urine. Verily that was the law then.

Finally the Delhi politician “kafan chor neta” (Dilli se billi ka dudh peeke aaya hain) and Bacchu Bagona represent the cancerous Indian political leadership where friendships based on mutual benefit (teri biwi uske paas aur uske biwi tera paas soti thi) and not ideology are quickly transformed into enmity based on the shifting alliances of the criminals that control the politicians and are in turn provided protection by these lumpen administrative elements (as Chutiya says: “Yeh jo kaala genda hain na iske saath jhagra mat kijiye. Kyon ke kanoon aur humare beech Yeh ek saafed chadar hain. Iske saath jhagra karenge na to kapde dhulenge bharatiyon addon pe”)

Having created these personifications of India’s problems, I also created as their dramatic adversary (Main hoon jurm se nafrat karne waala, shareefon ke liye jyoti, goondon ke liye jwaala) the character of Shankar, (played by Prabhuji Mithun Chakraborty) a coolie in a airport . He represents the typical hard-working Indian man forced to balance time between an overweight girl friend, an even fatter sister, an overacting father, alcoholic friends and a pet monkey who can drive a car. It is Shankar and his family that is crushed underneath the “system” of the 90s—a system that Shankar rises against through the inspirational “Do chaar chaaye aat dus. Bus” reciting of even numbers and concomitant retributory cleansing violence.

Thus being a depiction of the eternal conflict between good and evil with each character being an anthropomorphization of historical forces, Gunda transcends all cinematic formulae. Even after this if people want to call Gunda trite, well all I can say, paraphrasing a line from Loha, that their intellects “kisi garbabhati billi ki latakti hui pet ki tarah latak raha hain”

Interviewer: Kind of like a Mahabharata of the times.

KS: Exactly. And like Mahabharata, Gunda is not just about conflict. I will go so far as to say that the conflict is secondary to the human drama. In the best traditions of a Greek tragedy, noone comes unscathed from the Gunda experience. While ostensibly the story of a man who loses his father, sister and wife to the evils of society, it is also the cautionary tale of an evil man (Bulla) who swept away in a malestorm of revenge and violence (as he once tells Shankar: “Tujhe jalta bhunta dekhkar hum is tarah khush hote hain jis tarah koi shaitani-type ke bacchen aapne guriya ke haath payer todkar talee marte hainnnnnnn”) is consumed by the flames of his own rage.

He first sees his darling sister made “lamba” by arch-rival Lambu Atta following which Bulla laments, in an epic scene, “Munni meri behen munni, munni meri behen munni, to tu mar gyee? Lambu ne tujhe lamba kar diya? Maachis ki tili ko khamba kar diya?“. And then the pain he experiences everyday in seeing his mentally challenged younger brother trying to become a “mard” is gut-wrenching. Bulla feeds him sex pills from London and like a kind elder brother provides him girls to rape (and I should add, Chutiya doesnt even know it’s a crime to forcibly fornicate as he keeps asking Bullah: “Bhaiyya bhaiyya, rape karna kya buree baat hain?“). Till one day Chutiya emerges a man —an occasion he marks by disco-dancing with eunuchs to the tune of “Haye haye mere bhai jawaan ho gya, toota hua teer kaman ho gya“. And yet just when “tere tube main light aaya tha” , Shankar despatches Chutiya to his maker (as Bulla says: “tera fuse uda diya”) by cutting off his organ. (Incidentally that castration scene was tough to picturize—-many crew members got reacquainted with last night’s dinner !). What tragedy!

Does Gunda’s scope end here? No sir. The canvass is even larger. Sin and redemption. Shankar risks his life for sworn enemy Bulla’s illegitimate daughter (“Haseena ka paseena”). But forgiveness is not for all. At the opposite end, arch-criminal Lambu Atta, asks in vain for mercy from Bulla once he realizes that he is surrounded by Bulla’s deadly assassins.

Bulla. mere ko mat maar. Mere ko aapna bhadwa bana de. Main ladkiyan supply karte rahoonga aur tu maaze lete rahena. Tere ko AIDS se bachane ke liye nirodh ban jayoonga. Towel baanke tere kamad se lapak jayoonga. Mere ko mat maar. Aur agar maarna hi hain to mujhe cheel-chaal ke chakka bana de. Main sari lapet kar tere liye dance karoonga…Gore gore gaal gaal gore gore..

And no. Even this offer of slavery cannot save Lambu Atta who gets his “maut ka chata”.

Interviewer: One of the persistent criticisms of “Gunda” made by feminists and even by some masculinists is that Gunda is a monument to misogyny and chauvinism. They have taken umbrage to the lines :” Roti hote hain khane ke liye aur boti hote hain chabane ke liye, badhsha ki behen ho, ya fakeer ki beti, har kisi ko aana parta marad ke niche bajane ke liye citi” and “Chatri hotee hain kholne ke liye, chadar hotee hain orne ke liye aur ladki hotee hain cherne ke liye” as being medieval and repugnant. Comments.

KS: There it is again: the trap of literalism. In “Gunda” women represent purity and honesty and what I show is the violation of that. Simple. I never want to titillate, I can assure you. In fact where Bulla encounters Shankar’s wife, they talk in perfect rhyme to each other—which attests to the fact that my intention is to be poetic, rather than vulgar.

KS: Now here’s my question to you, the interviewer. As a fan yourself, what is your favourite Gunda moment?

Interviewer: Tables turned. Haha. Well there is a scene in which super-pimp Lucky Chikna screams at a sex-worker who is doing “liptam chipti chipkam lipti” with a guy instead of servicing her client. When she protests that “Woh buddha kuch karta naheen hain. Sirf bolta hain choos choos meri ungli choos“, Lucky Chikna delivers the line:”Dhande pe baithi hain to buddha kya, jawan kya, kya chotha kya bara, kya baitha kya khara“. There is any austere beauty in this scene I have never been quiet able to fathom.

Interviewer: Now back to the questions. What do you think is the legacy of Gunda?

KS: Gunda is on IMDB at 8.6. It is uniformly accepted as a masterpiece. It holds the world record for being screened in almost all men’s hostels in India. Often in a loop. There is are orkut communities for it. There is even a fan site. It is now a popular baby-name. There is a city in the republic of Buryatia named after the movie. A Gunda-themed apparel line exists. There is “Gunda pickle” which on consumption makes you scream like Lambu Atta after he sees his chikna bhai Kundan murdered. An Aussie band has named themselves Gunda Guys to honor their love for the classics. The Zulus have named a “cottol reel car” Gunda Gunda.

Gunda dialogues have passed into popular lingo. “Tere behen ko kar doonga khullam khullah” is an accepted form of greeting between men in college campuses in India. The idea of Lucky Chikna’s sex garden (“latakta circus”) where people fornicated on hanging khatiyas has been adopted by discerning brothels all over the world. Many children born accidentally due to defective contraceptives are being named “Nirodh Kumar” in many parts of India, in honour of a character of the same name in “Gunda”.

Interviewer: Lastly, there are so many questions over which fans have agonized over the years. Why does the hero’s father’s moustache disappear and reappear between scenes? Why does the Mithun-da character, a coolie, have a cellphone in the mid 90s? And also a rocket-launcher? Why does 70% of the movie take place on a tarmac? Is the relationship between Bulla and Lambu Atta homoerotic (as Lambu says: Bulla ke naam leke tune khara kar diya hain mera) ?Why did Chutiya think that the bathroom is the only place Shankar will not look for him? Are the Ambassadors in the movie remote-controlled?Why is the Vidhan Sabha and the High Court the same building?Why…

KS: (interrupting). Yes I know. Some true fans have tried to find the solution to these questions through the Gunda FAQ. All I can say is that I was greatly influenced by Dadaism, a movement of the early 1900s whose principle was the conscious rejection of logic, rationality and conventional aesthetics. Actually the name Bulla is a tribute to Bulldada which means something that is “brilliant specially because it does not know its own stupidity”, with Bulldada itself a term born out of the Dadaist philosophy. In short, with such influences,trying to find total coherence in Gunda is ultimately a self-defeating experience.

Interviewer: Any final words to the fans?

KS: Thank you for the love and support. And watch Gunda. Again and again. There has never been a movie like this before. Trust me. There never will be one like this again.

[Acknowledgements: Gunda movie online, and the orkut Gunda community and its active members for the inspiration]

5 seconds into a Mithun-da song: The guitarists wield their instruments like phallic objects.

13 seconds in: Prabhuji touches down.

15 seconds in: Prabhuji female poojarin has a moment of intense self-arousal and shrieks Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

33 seconds in: Precocious boy starts whistling

35 seconds in: Angelic little girl gets up and starts playing the drums on the bald old man sitting in front of her. The tempo is rising.

1 minute 30 seconds in: Mithun-da is belting out “I am a Disco Dancer” sending the audience into paroxysms of pleasure.

2 minutes 50 seconds in: Mithun-da starts sucking his thumb.

3 minutes 15 seconds in: Curvaceous backup dancers start tugging on their braids.

3 minutes 48 seconds in: Poojarin wearing chemical lab goggles understands why Prabhuji is sucking thumb. She responds.

4 minutes 28 seconds in: Prabhuji asks a Poojarin to join with him. This is waay before Bruce Springsteen set a trend by calling Courtney Cox onstage from the crowd for “Dancing in the Dark”.

4 minutes 31 seconds in: Nisha feels the call of the wild in her blood. She rushes towards Prabhuji on the stage, leaving her honour, husband and sanity behind.

4 minutes 48 seconds in: Nisha has surrendered herself totally to Prabhuji. With a whirling motion of her hand, she conveys that she is ready.

6 minutes 22 seconds in: Prabhuji has become a blur of action. Tandav on celluloid if there has ever been one.

1 hour after the song: Away from the public eye, a poojarin balances a chalice on her forehead.

1 hour 10 minutes after the song: Prabhuji drinks from the chalice balanced on her forehead. An ancient mating ritual begins.

Morning after song: Prabhuji is dancing in front of helicopter surrounded by crazed poojarins who want simply a piece of him. And they do not mind having it all together.

This was 25 years ago. Much has changed since then. The Internet. VP Singh. Mallika Sherawat. A new age has brought in its wake new icons and new Gods.

But still some things remain the same.

2 seconds into song: Girl goes bazookas. Years ago, it was her mother (reference third picture from top).Now it’s her.

1 minute into song: Mithun-da is still at it, sending subliminal messages to the audience.

2 hours after song: Need I say more?

[Must watch videos for Mithunism followers: "I Am a Disco Dancer" and a lovely fan video of the same song. The opening sequence of Suraksha with Mithun-da as Gunmaster G9 cavorting with international supermodels and executing moves Sean Connery would never imagine. And a beautiful tribute to Prabhuji from the guys at Boogie Woogie. And finally, Prabhuji today, uncut, uncensored and totally off the Richter.]

I was wrong.

I did not know there was a high-demand variety of powerful bulls named after Mithun-da.

More demand for mithun bulls

Posted on Thursday, November 09, 2006, @ 23:42:42 EST

Home news 10 November, 2006 – The decision to shift the Mithun bull Breeding center from Chukha to Wangdigang in Zhemgang is paying off, according to both farmers and officials of the center.

“The center is meeting demands of farmers from 14 west central and east central dzongkhags,” said officials. “About 20 to 25 mithun bulls are distributed to farmers at a subsidised rate of Nu. 10,000 a bull annually.”

While places near to the center are supplied with breeding bulls, artificial insemination (AI) is provided to farmers from far off villages.

The success of the farm has resulted in more demand for the bull from farmers, said farm manager Tashi Dhendup. “And we have been meeting the demand. Dzongkhag livestock officials recommend farmers to buy the mithun bulls because of their advantages over the indigenous breed.”

Amazing ! Mithun bulls being produced by artificial insemination, with the creative juices being supplied no doubt by Bashir Babbar and Kanti Shah and TLV Prasad, the people with the “seminal” concepts behind most Mithun movies. Needless to say, the farmers realize that Mithun bulls perform much better than the local breeds in all respects —- they till more land, they do not obey the laws of physics and they say “Aaaiee Salaaaa” instead of “Moo”.

The farm, at present, has 120 mithuns and a breeding bull. The females are kept in the farm to replenish stock.

As we all know with 120 Mithuns around, the need to have females to replenish stock is very much needed because of wear and tear.

The cross of the powerful mithun with the native siri gives the Bjatsha (male), which are ideal for ploughing and the Bjatsham (female) gives better milk production with high butterfat than the native siri.

The mithun cross also retains the siri’s agility and hardiness and are therefore easy to maintain in Bhutan’s difficult terrain. But all mithun siri male progenies are sterile.

Indeed. More milk and more power and more capacity for staying hardy for Mithun progenies. Does not need a rocket scientist to anticipate that. Though the sterility for male progenies of the Mithun is pretty alarming especially for the great Mithunputra Mimoh Chakraborty (shown in the picture on the left) who does not look like a guy who would be anything but supremely potent.

According to the farm officials, mithuns are a distinct semi-wild cattle breed in themselves and indigenous to Arunachal Pradesh, Assam and Bangladesh. These big and strong animals have a typical dorsal ridge on the crest of the shoulder, a flat forehead and big horns with an enormous base.

Females weigh about a tonne and produce milk containing 10 percent butterfat.

Such a lovely description of the great Mithun breed and the typical Mithun heroine (weighs about a tonne and produces 10% butterfat)

The National Mithun Breeding Center was established in 1976 at Chukha

Move over X-Men. The National Mithun Breeding Center has been, for the last 30 years, churning out selectively-breeded, genetically perfect M-men —the future of the animal race, who can levitate objects, bend metal, split a bullet with a knife, survive the bite of a poisonous cobra, outrun a speeding helicopter, work as a Coolie in an airport, till the land, produce buttermilk and dance like it’s nobody’s business.

Hamba Ho !

Frankly the need to get into the garment design industry is something I have felt for long—the world desperately craves for a line of fashion that appeals to an alternate aesthetic, apparel that pokes you in the eye with a statement, a collection of garments that cry out “This IS me”, a force of nature that does to the “Gandhi” penstroke and the Che-Bob Marley T-shirt design what Attila the Hun did to the Roman Empre.

Let us look at the first design. It has a picture of the legendary “Bulla”, the villain-in-chief of “Gunda”, the iconic celluloid classic from the beautiful minds of Bashir Babbar and Kanti Shah. The picture is framed on top by a part of his motto: “Mera naam hain Bulla, Rakhta Hoon Main Khulla”. In keeping with the theme of this fashion line, the design expresses our inner need for open-ness, a desire to be honest about ourselves, to unconstrain our menitalia (mental genitalia) from the confines of cultural and societal underwear with its constricting seams of tradition.

Don’t you feel there is a lot of pent-up anger in the world? Rude people in the streets, ugly trolls on the blog and mad terrorists who want to blow up everyone? And haven’t you wondered “Why so much anger?” Which deep well of dissatisfaction does all this hate come from?

Well that feeling is articulated perfectly in our next design : the Chutiya shirt. (Movie-goers will remember the character Chutiya, the murderous hermaphrodite from Gunda, who takes “London ki goli” to pep up his sex life and who is ultimately castrated by Mithun-da in a toilet). In it, we have a question that Chutiya posed to an angry policeman: “Subah Mirchi Ka Achar Khaya Tha Kya?” (Did you have a paste of hot chillies in the morning?) with the aim being to understand his cause of irritation. In the same vein, if you wear this Tshirt in front of an angry person (and there are many of them), I am sure that the message will make him/her think—-why am I angry? Obviously I did not have chilli paste for breakfast. So could it be possible that I have anger issues and the world isn’t as bad as I assume it to be?

Nobel peace prize anyone?

Let’s face it. All of us have had issues with our parents, all of us have felt the urge to rebel, to break free of the rigid rules laid down by Dad, to emerge as our man/woman. To forge our own path, on the strength of who we are….not who my father is. An attitude that is exemplified by the Rahul Gandhis, the Anil Ambanis, the Rahul Mahajans and the Puru Rajkumars of the world.

For these rebels with a cause, I present the “Pote” Tshirt, which fits into the larger “freedom” theme of my clothing line. Pote is Bulla’s best friend in the movie “Gunda”—a man who follows the dictum “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul”. Which is why he utters the immortal line : ” Mera naam Pote, Jo Aapne Baap Ke Bhi Naheen Hote”. This T-shirt is our tribute to that attitude of rebellion, a fire that we see burning in so many fine men and women.

The next T-shirt is a little bit naughty. But still it is all about the attitude. And freedom. Freedom from being lonely and single. Indian men have always been at a disadvantage when it comes to approaching women—-we just do not seem to have good pickup lines. So here is one from the voice of the handsome Ibu Hatela: ” Ma meri chudail ki beti, baap mera shaitan ka chela, khayega kela?” As an expert in the art of seduction, let me tell my prospective buyers that women just love bad overweight boys who get to the point, without beating about the bush—which is why the bare-torsoed picture of Ibu Hatela from ‘Gunda’ with the smashing proposal will make the ladies go weak in the knees. And for those behenji-s who will retort with the age-old “Ghar main ma behen naheen hain” you have already pre-emptively answered the question by citing your antecedents ! Genius isnt it?

Caveat: Don’t expect to wear this Tshirt for long, it will be ripped to shreds before you realize it.

Lest people think, we have only T-shirts, let me mention that we have also designed innerwear with Mithun’da’s immortal “Do char chaaye aath dus….Bus” printed on it and many other assorted items that are currently pending patent.

So what are you waiting for? Our trained representatives are waiting for your call.

And remember if you give the customer representative the following promotional sentence [which I picked up in an Orkut group]

Jis toofan main dushamanon ke hosh urh jaate hain,
Us toofan main hum chaddi sukhaate hain

you will get 10% off your order.

Fashion will never be the same again.

Agar tujhe halwa khana hain, to tujhe dance karna parega. Dance dance.

–Dance Dance

I love dance. Indian movie dance specifically, not the ta-thaiiya classical stuff. I am way too much of a Philistine to understand the subtle interplay between Abhinaya, Laya and Ang. Accepted.

But of late I have become jaded by the endless stream of remixes, item numbers and special appearances all of which feature girls who are virtually indistinguishable from each other, possessing unrealistic curves, wearing little more than lingerie dancing under flashing lights or pouring rain.

Jaded yes. By the mind-numbing predictability. And by the sheer disconnect the moves of the dancers have with those of real-life folk —you, me, Sujata auntie and Probir uncle.

Putting it in another way, what I want more of is real life people and their real-life dance steps captured on celluloid so that I can turn to my date and say “Hey I can do that.” So here I present a few short video clips of the way I think dance numbers should be done. Watch and learn.

Exhibit 1. Watch this video clip I have uploaded (49 seconds) of a few hot neighbourhood hunks, the ones who engage in persistent negotiation during Kali Puja subscription drives, boogie-woogie. Note the way they let the music flow through them as they slowly increase the tempo of their gyrations, thrust their bottoms in an age-old mating ritual while keeping the red shirt firmly tucked in. This is what I am talking about—grace and sexiness in our daily lives.

Exhibit 2. It’s tough being a geek. Horrible fashion sense, patch of vegetation coming out of right ear, a set of shades your granddad would consider unfashionable. And then in the party you meet a hottie. She wants you to dance and hopefully make babies with her later. What do you do? Well something like this guy does in this video (42 seconds)—the cool stud in the black-rimmed spectacles who belts out the ultimate geek dance move—-the fly in the sky. Repeat this move on the dance floor at your own risk. You never know with who or what you will wake up the next morning.

Exhibit 3. A disturbing trend in Bollywood has been to increasingly cater to the NRI crowd by making movies about extremely rich people, who live in palatial houses, wear designer clothes and whose only problem in life is love or the lack of it. But what of the proletariat, the ones who work for a living—who talks about their struggle to live? And most importantly who shows their dance moves? In this third video (59 seconds), I seek to correct this imbalance by showing a series of group moves of a bunch of unionised coolies in a West Bengal train station. As Mithun-da, the coolie leader says in Bengali to the corrupt cop–”Just because our heads are ‘thanda’ (cool), don’t show us your danda (tool)”

Exhibit 4. Aunties are people too. Sure they may have some junk in the trunk and jars of jelly in the belly—but that does not mean they cannot be sexy. Or pretend to be. Here in the fourth video (1 minute 57 seconds), we have Himani Shivpuri, in a ravishing low cut black dress seducing a roomful of horny uncles, showing once and for all that it’s the wine that’s important and not the bottle. Despite a crack or two.

Exhibit 5. Another one of my persistent cribs is the way item numbers suddenly leap at you with nary any context or back story. Okay here is the hero who, after seeing his girlfriend in the arms of another man, has taken to drink. Okay I got that. But then suddenly out of the blue, in the next scene Mumait Khan starts dancing in a blue bustier, glistening with oily glitter. Why? Where did that come from?

So here is a video (1 minute 13 seconds) that shows how it is done. In this sequence, we are shown an everyday scene—a “crazy” man in chains walking in a crowded market place, dancing for sweets. A movie director wishes him good morning and he replies with “What’s so good about the morning?” And then the dialogue goes on to lay the context for the item number to follow—impressing on the viewer what an awesome feat the next dance will be. Watch it to understand. And tell me, wouldn’t such a back story be nice every time Rakhi Sawant came out to dance clad only in rupee coins?

Exhibit 6: Here is the dance (1 minute 39 seconds) that Exhibit 5 lays the context for. Now this is the way real men dance—especially when in, what Somerset Maugham would call, “human bondage“. Note the overweight backup dancers, the unfashionable clothes and the entire atmosphere of the song—this could very well be a snapshot of our daily lives. And yet, despite the seeming mundaneness, the poetry of Mithunda’s movements, the caged heat he radiates in each swing of his head is, for the want of a more original word, simply classic. Classic dance of love.

[Warning: All the above dance moves are performed by trained professionals under careful supervision. Do not try these in front of living people. We will not be held liable for bodily injury, eternal embarrassment and any consequent mental trauma.]