So like it or not, here is a video post once again, if only for sharing my pleasure with the world.

The theme for today’s video post is dance. More precisely South Asian males dancing, one of the most magnificent sights in the world, second only to watching Ravindra Jadeja bat. Since I was a kid, I have always wanted to break dance. But Bengali bhodrolok families, unlike Punjabi ones, have an aversion to body-movement  to the beat of music, an activity which is frequently dismissed with a term that belies translation —”Bellelepona” (I guess the closest would be vulgar display of immorality and lack of proper upbringing ).

The only culturally acceptable solution, as Bengali man, was to learn dance from the disciplines of Kelucharan Mohapatra but honestly, with the utmost respect to our traditions, which college have you gone see girls go “Woo hooo” to such a thing.

And so I learnt my disco dance steps from television and prevented from unleashing them as weddings (a big no-no in Bengali marriages), I would bring out my moves once a year at the Jadavpur University Open Air Theatre during the annual fest final event night, with my shirt off, dancing in my baniyan and jeans. Not that I realized it then that there were evolutionary reasons for my behavior as science has shown that flamboyant dance moves attract women. The only problem is no one had told this to the formidable ladies, the very few of them that there were, at the Open Air Theater and so I had to be content in merely blowing dirt in the wind like a horse banging his hoofs in the ground. Alone. Unless you count gancing (guy-guy dancing) as a legitimate romantic activity.

From those days I have had a great admiration of free-style desi male dance. And youtube has plenty of these out of which I select, in the rest of the posts, a few of my favorites. Note that none of these are choreographed —-which is why the Condom Dance and the Worst Dance Ever and Sam Anderson are left out of this collection.

Favorite 1: This video I like is because in its 2 minutes and 50 seconds of running time it captures perfectly the dynamics of a desi dance party. In such an assemblage, there are two kinds of people—the lucky desi dudes who have a girl-friend/wife and those that do not (the latter by far the overwhelming majority). The couples are often found dancing among themselves, separated by a layer of air insulation from the group of single men. Single ladies are allowed to join this group under the protective eyes of the married/engaged women. The men in the exalted group look over their shoulders and periodically taunt the single men with “Hah. Losers”. Of course even the couples do not do body-contact on the dance floor— no ass-grinding please. Only thing we grind is haldi. Sandwich dance? Uii maaaa…..that would cause a scandal, whispered “chi chis”  and too much gossip. Which is why man and woman, even those married in front of the fire, maintain a chaste distance between them and move their bodies as non-sexually as possible, like two passengers in a local train standing opposite to each other, holding the overhead bar, shaken by the rhythm of the train.

For the single men though even this sight is too much of oil on frying pan and they lose their minds like moths in front of a flame. And they start rubbing up against each other (like the guys in this video) or just stand /sit in a corner and move their bodies in an exaggerated way so that they may get “noticed”. Of course they almost never do, though some of the bolder ones may casually try to casually infiltrate the “ladies/couples” group. Even if they manage to pull it off, the maximum they can hope for is to lay their hands on some woman’s shoulder when the party culminates in the hedonistic orgy that desi parties always lead to, the obligatory train dance.

Favorite 2: I have always wanted to know how the Taliban entertain themselves when they have an infidel in the next room,  blindfolded waiting to be be-headed. Well I presume it is somewhat on these lines. Not that I am saying this dude above is a violent type, but according to Canadian authorities, the following man from the land of the pure and peaceful definitely is. He appeared in Canadian idol, got rejected on the basis of his attempting to sing Avril Lavigne while moonwalking and then took the rejection so much to heart so much that he decided to destroy Western civilization in retaliation. Lesson: be very careful while making fun publicly of a man trying to dance, more so if he comes from the “best neighbor one can have”.

Favorite 3: Also called the Disco Mullah, this man really knows how to bust a move. According to my sources though, this is  actually Saeed Anwar and Amir Sohail (in a dress) dancing to “Mauja hi Mauja” once they heard that Prasad and Kuruvilla will be bowling to them the next day in a cricket match.

Yes I know Mauja hi Mauja was brought into the world long after these two stopped playing but when you have Afridi in your team, turning back the clock isn’t a big deal.

Favorite 4:

You shine just like a star mahiya. From the seductive come-hither looks to the belly-dancing, from the shorts to the dirty room this captures a lonely Friday night in the life of a desi grad student in the US like no other, reminiscent of evenings long ago of downing some cheap tequila, half-frozen chimichanga and cribbing about moronic paper review committees. Not that I would ever dance like this. No that would never happen.

And finally my favorite.  This isn’t just dance. Nor is it just music. It is simply put an expression of epic anguish, using voice, body and soul, where the artist gives the audience a truly intense view into his raw, broken heart. Dedicating this performance to fellow sufferers (This song is byaaaasicaallyy deevoted to all boys whose girl-friends are loose….him), Tarun Kumar proceeds to make love to his webcam in the way Jimi Hendrix used to make love to his guitar, strumming his nipples and banging his head onto the glass again and again, almost as if he wants to mount the person watching the video—-so passionate he is.

The reason why I love this last video so much is because it crystallizes exactly what it is that makes desi men dance. The melancholia of being left alone, of having to do it alone, that state of mind that makes you put on two shirts and propose to the camera, the condition of existence that makes you look longingly at those fortunate to be dancing with a girl who is not “loose…… him” and curse God for your bad luck.

Of course not that I would ever know how that feels.

One is of course minorities minister Antulay, whose patriotic credentials were never in doubt —after all who could be a greater patriot than someone, who as a chief minister, was convicted of extorting builders to donate to an Indira Gandhi trust. The fact that such a person, even after this, can hold a ministerial post is evidence enough of how high we value his service to the nation.

If patriotism be defined as the ability to question the wounds of the country as it bleeds, to speculate on internal conspiracies without providing an iota of evidence, then yes Antulay is almost the gold standard.

Not that there has not been a knee-jerk reaction to Antulay’s patriotism. The RSS/Hindu right wing nutjobs in the press, worried that their game of blaming Pakistan and the minorities for everything has been busted, struck back through two of its most vicious spokesmen—M. J. Akbar and Javed Akthar— who have publicly lashed out at Antulay-ji.

M.J. Akbar has blamed Antulay for the most cynical of vote-bank pandering by casting doubt on whether Pakistan is involved and Javed Akthar has expressed his “disappointment, horror and shock” at Antulay-ji’s statement and condemned the minister for how he has given “leverage to Pakistan”. What Hindutva advocates like M.J. Akbar and Javed Akthar do not understand is that the honorable minister never said that Pakistan was not involved. Neither did he say there was an internal conspiracy or that the whole thing was “engineered” by other agencies. No he never said that. [He did however say in 2006, that a mysterious blast was caused in Naned by Hindus posing as Muslims]

Now you may very well reason that the mischievously full of meaning sentences he uttered strongly imply the involvement of internal agencies and casts doubt on the entire Kasab testimony and Pakistani sponsorship.

Well if you say that, that’s your problem, that’s your dirty mind that is making the logical connection.

Like when I say “Choli ke peeche kya hain” and you think of anything other than “dil” then who is responsible for the vulgarity here?

You or me?

The situation here is kind of similar to the old gent who when he hears that a girl has had her dignity violated says “In our days, shareef girls would not be out so late”. If based on this, you accuse the old uncle of casting aspersions on the girl’s character and implying that she deserved her fate, then it’s you who are drawing sinister conclusions when all that old uncle did was make an innocent observation on how things were when he was young.

The other uber patriot who has shoved himself reluctantly into the national spotlight is none other than the ex-host of Antakshari, Annu Kapoor [Factoid: In this IMDB entry he is credited for his appearance in "Raincoat" (2004) as man who wanted to use the toilet] . Nowadays he is seen on Zee TV as a judge on a reality show called “Ek Se Badkar Ek: Chota Packet Bada Dhamaka” (not to be confused with the LET training module by the same name on small box bombs) together with some of the other thought-leaders of today like Kunal Kolhi (award winning director of classics like “Hum Tum”, “Fanaa”, “Thoda Pyar Thoda Magic” and “Mujse Dosti Karoge”) and Rakhi Sawant (a patriot of no small reputation who volunteered her services for the homeland thus: “Had they airdropped me from a helicopter in their rescue operation, I would have danced in skimpy clothes and seduced all the terrorist inside and would have killed them one-by-one. I know, eventually they will also kill me, but I do not mind dying for my country.”). In the said show, pre-teens sing and dance, sometimes executing the most uncomfortable and age-inappropriate steps and expressions, with their proud mothers cheering them on while the judges give points for the performances.

In an episode of this show [Video Link], that was recorded after 26/11 one of the kids sings “Rang De Basanti Chola” . Anu Kapoor gives the kid extra points for singing a patriotic song. Kunal Kolhi objects saying that they are judging the kids based on their performance and not on song selection—-by giving extra points for just the selection of a patriotic song, Anu Kapoor is being unfair to the other children.

Caption: Saarrr, Iske Upar Naheen Bolne Ka…..

Annu Kapoor, who evidently was already in a “Thoda emotional ho gya” state, just exploded, like a man would if he had wanted to use the toilet in 2004 (when Raincoat was released if you recall) and has been waiting since. Using a tone of voice I last heard outside our neighborhood “Boy’s Club” in Kolkata when a drunk was shouting at his wife,  Annu-ji stood up and bellowed, at the top of his voice, using a style that can be characterized as patriotic-tapori— ” Saaarrrr iske upar naheen bolne ka”.

Now I confess that ever since I watched “Mujse Dosti Karoge” I have always wanted to stand in front of Kunal Kohli and yell, in a similarly frothing hysterical way, ” Sarrr iske baad direction naheen karne ka” and so I found this outburst more than mildly pleasing.

Kunal Kohli, who evidently does not think that at times like this we need to shout our lungs out and wear our patriotism on our forhead, decided to walk out of the show as he was not “going to share a platform with someone who does not know how to behave himself”.

Caption: Aankhiyon se Goli maare—Shoot Me !

But our Patriot missile was just getting started. Jumping off the stage in a blur of action, he started yelling what I can only suppose were words of supreme desh-bhakti, so powerful were they that Zee TV silenced them out. He then pranced onto the stage and thrust out his chest asking “them” to “shoot him”, so ready he was to give his life up in front of some frightened children, their parents and imaginary enemies. A lesser patriot might be ready to take a chest full of bullets in the hell-hole of a Taj on 26/11 but it requires a special breed to ask for death in the most non-threatening environment possible.

The finale to this tour de force of glowing patriotism came when Annu Kapoor took the mike and with all the cameras on him started singing ” Kaheni hain ek baar hume is desh ki paheredaron se, samaal ke rahena kadam kadam par, chupe huye gaddaron se” as the children, spontaneously, start marching.

Caption: I love my country. Do you–Gaddar?

Whether the chupe huye gaddar refers to Pakistani spies or to the judge who refuses to give extra points for patriotic songs, we know not (nor do we care) but I did have a lump in my throat when this glowing ember of desh-prem concluded his song by pumping his fists and shouting “Vande Mataraam” and “Jai Hind”.

The last time I recall getting this carried away with patriotism was when I saw that famous scene from “Clerk”. [Video Link] Ashok Kumar is an ex-Azad Hind fauji who is dying of a heart ailment. One of his sons comes back from the doctor and announces with barely concealed hatred that the doctor (whose name may have been Dr. Kunal Kohli) had, horror of horrors, asked for his fees. It is then that Manoj Kumar, the greatest patriot that ever drew breath, tells the family that he has the cure for his father, Ashok Kumar. He pops in a tape of Kadam Kadam Baraaye Ja, the Azad Hind Fauj anthem and lo and behold, the patriotic electricity it unleashes inside Dadamoni bursts through the blocked arteries and before you can say “Holy shit, they actually filmed this without doubling up with laughter” Ashok Kumar is singing the song and marching to it, joined by the family.

Note the parallels between that immortal scene and the Annu Kapoor incident—both in terms of the focus being the patriotic song and the passionate marching at the end.

In conclusion, I think all of you will agree with me when I say that with patriots like this, we can be sure that we are in safe hands.

[Once more: Video of  meltdown]

Yada Yada Hi Dharmasya
Glanirva Bhavathi Bharatha,
Abhyuthanam Adharmaysya
Tadatmanam Srijami Aham.

Indeed. These are “yada yada” times. With terrorist, corrupt politicians and chauvinists everywhere trying to tear the country into “tukda tukda”, the nation, especially those appearing for railway exams out-of-state, look for a messiah, an avatar of mythic proportions.

The good news is that he has arrived. His name is Kamal R Khan (KRK). Director and hero of “Desdrohi” releasing this week in a theater close to you.

A common man. a graduate from a center of learning in the Hindi heartland, comes to Mumbai to earn his living.  But there he is exposed to the blatant chauvinism of the local population who hold his poverty and his migrantness against him. After some “locals” attempt to beat him up (but end up on their backs instead) he thunders the following lines, lines that beautifully reflect the difference in mentality between people in different parts of the country.

Jitne nafrat humhare liye tumhare  dil main  hain , usse zyada pyar tumhare liye humare  seene main hain. Kabhi UP Bihar aake dekhna, mehman ko bhagwan samajhte hain hum [Video]

In other words, the amount of hatred that the Manoos have for the Bhaiyyas is surpassed by the love that the Bhaiyyas have for the Manoos. That is evidenced by the fact that Bhaiyyas come to Mumbai out of their love for the locals and not the other way round. It is also true that genuine, incorporeal love for “mehmaans” (guests in your household like the sister of your wife) can only be found in the heartland, a fact attested to by Lucky Ishtaar Radheshyam Rasia as he tells his guest-loving mates in a private music video (not associated with the film of course) that blends desire, relationships and nuclear weaponry in a way that is truly unique—”Humre saali ke choli main bhaiyya do tho “aitom” bomb wa [Video]”

As our hero is framed for being a terrorist and a campaign of violent hatred [led by a politician (played by Aman Varma) whose resemblance to a real-life character is purely coincidental] is initiated, the essential question behind the headlines is framed simply.

Aaj tumhare dar se Mumbai choroon. Kal kisi aur ke dar se Dilli chorun. Phir ek din kahoge Hindustan chor do

Not just with earth-hilwa bakchodi like “Aye inspector, mera naam Raj Kumar Singh Yadav hain aur Yadav sirf raja hota hain, bhikari kabhi naheen banta” our hero also strikes back with flying fists, thundering kicks, shooting pistols and most importantly with the patent-pending “Chapra Chop” wherein he gets down on his knees thus lulling his opponents into thinking he is surrendering, then slides forwards, delivering a bunker-busting to the adversary’s “vada pavs”. [Video see from 1:21 to 1:23]

Be warned oh “Gunda Raj”. Be warned.

[Thanks to Rakesh Venkatraman for bring this to my notice]

I have often lamented the passing of the old-world charm that characterized Durga Pujos in favor of commercialization and “novelty”. Well it is indeed heartening to see that there are some folk in Delhi who have held on to the traditional Durga Pujo in a way that is truly endearing.

And how have they done that? By having a man in drag belt out hot moves to the tunes of songs that capture the simple religiosity of the Pujos, including that old favorite Durga-vandana song— “Suga Mama” (hattip: Thalassa)

Video Link 1

Video Link 2

The last time I felt this great was when while coming back from tuitions, I saw a gang of local “boys club” members dancing on the streets in celebration of Netaji’s birthday (January 23), in front of a garlanded picture of Subhash Bose, to the tune of ” Oh lal Dupatte waali tera naam to bata, Oh kaale kurte waali tera naam to bata”.(What warmed my heart was how, poetically and subtly, the communists and fascists with whom Netaji interacted with, are referred to as “Lal Dupaate-waali” [Red Army] and “Kaale Kurte-waali” [Black Shirts])

Long time readers know that I admire Bhojpuri music videos for their vision of purity — their “saadhgi” which stands in stark contrast to the decadent Western wanton lasciviousness  we are bombarded with through television, radio and Times of India. In an age where innocence is as extinct as the dodo, Bhojpuri’s concentration on loosening jeans, double duties of newly married wives, hyperactive tailors and ladies with Pepsi cola in their lehenga has earned my unending admiration.

As also that of migrant laborers, like me, all over the world.

So what is this new height that I talk about?

The love of a woman for another woman. What narrow-minded people call “girl on girl action”.

Of course Bangla movies had laid the groundwork for this many years ago (after all what Bengal thinks today, Bihar thinks tomorrow). In a movie called Troyee (tentative English translation: Threesome), Mithun Chakraborty, Debashree Ray and the other guy in the threesome go to a park dancing and singing a song [Video] that can be again tentatively translated as ” We are on the road known and unknown. One and one makes two, two and one makes us.” Their song disturbs a number of couples canoodling in the park. For a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, we see one of the couples—-two girls.

Now of course this great tradition of acceptance has been perpetuated by our good Bhojpuri friends. The first song in today’s series is “Gaune ke raat dukhdayee re” which depicts a typical scene from the Hindi heartland—-a newly married girl recounts the events of her marital night by re-enacting the sequences with the said sahelis [Video] (quasi-NSFW) Truly a “banno rani tumhe siyaani hona hi tha” though to be honest she doesn’t seem too “anjani” from her saankhiyaans.

The second of this series, direct from the land where Rabri is the ruler, is a song about what else… Jalebis.[Video]. (quasi-NSFW) Jalebis magically appear from, what seems to be the posteriors of the ladies and find their ultimate repose somewhere else. The mutual attraction that these ladies share are not so evident as they more or less keep their hands off each other, perhaps because their ample paunches might bump against each other.

However what is even more entertaining is the video response they provoke from the Bhojpuri spice girls.

Yes I am talking about their iconic song “Kahe Jalebi ke tarse godiye, bada maza rasgulla main” [Video] (quasi-NSFW) which not only has plenty of physical expressions of girlie love and affection but also climaxes with the girls sucking on a rasgulla, an action which I think is Bhojpuri’s first same-sex liplock.

This video together with the similarly open “Chapra Sawaharwa Se”  [Video] (chronicling the mutual love and admiration of two village girls) (possibly NSFW)has brought to the forefront, like Bhojpuri videos do, the hopes and aspirations of another persecuted but really “hot” minority—–indian women who love women.

As they say in the heartland: “Hum sab to lesbian hoyee gawa”.

[Figure 1: Clip with sub-titles from the movie "Bow Barracks Forever"]

In the long list of grouses (the marginalization of Subhash Bose in the Indian national Congress, the policy of freight equalization, lack of funding for Bakreshwar power plant, Sourav Ganguly’s treatment at the hands of the BCCI, Soumitro Chatterjee being overlooked for the Dadasaheb Phalke Award and “Ami Kolkattar Rosogolla” not being made the national anthem being some of them) that we Bengalis have nurtured over the years like festering wounds that refuse to heal, nothing perhaps rankles more than the fact that Moonmoon Sen was never given the iconic status in Bollywood that she so richly deserved.

People who closely follow Bengali movies noted amazing flashes of brilliance in her performance in “Baidurya Rahasya “where she played a no-nonsense lethal detective who goes undercover as a sexy Vaishnavite priestess with a craving for fish (her famous line “Mamu ami maach bhaja khamu” [Uncle, I want to eat fried fish]) still gives me the shivers whenever I hear it). Soon her flawless pronunciation, unaffected manner of speaking, acting prowess [video] and her overdone femininity (called “nyakamo” in Bengali) had made her the darling of what Taran Adarsh calls the “classes and the masses”.

Kolkata however proved to be too small for her and before you knew she had gone off to be with the big fishes in Bombay. Here she quickly made her name doing substantial roles opposite the cream of the crop like Raj Kiran, Puneet Issar and the God of all things—Mithun-da [watch this video of Mithunda forcing off MoonMoon Sen's anti-gravity shoes as they play basketball, wearing them himself and then perching Moonmoon on top of the basket]

[Figure 2: MoonMoon Sen in red anti-gravity shoes playing basketball and flying through the air in a skirt]

However after her much-appreciated performance as a sexy corpse in “100 days” where, even dead, she managed so many sensual contortions that even Maryl Strip had to publicly applaud the acting, Moon-Square, for reasons not truly understood, vanished into obscurity (save for appearances on TV as a talk show host) leaving lesser lights like Madhuri and Sridevi to rule the roost.

Why this happened we never truly understood but this inability of India to give such a great artiste her due has left a bitter taste in our Bengali mouths, like the bitter aftertaste of too much sorshe (mustard) in our sorshe-ilish (Mustard-Hilsa).

Many of you are possibly thinking—why don’t you just let sleeping dogs lie? After all the world has moved along, Moon-square’s daughters now rule the MMS industry if not Bollywood and are acknowledged by one and all to be great patriots.

From Times of India : “Riya Sen is a true patriot”

The world might know her as a sultry diva, who sizzles the silver screen with her glamorous appearance, but deep within, actress Riya Sen is a true-blue patriot whose heart is ready to sing hosannas for the country. The girl who has celebrated her 27th birthday on January 24, is now looking forward to celebrating the Republic Day with gusto. NT gets up close and personal with her.
…..
On the republic day: “I am one of those people who are born with a free spirit. Although on occasions like the Republic Day or the Independence Day I don’t do anything special, but those paper flags selling along the streets or the live telecast of the Republic Day parade always fill up my heart with patriotism. To me these occasions are the symbol of that precious essence of freedom, for which the freedom fighters gave their lives.”

So why, for the love of Ranjit Mullick, do I rake up this generational hurt now at a time when the nation is passing through a crisis?

Let me explain.

After trying to desperately get a hold of “Jimmy” and drawing a total blank (proving once again that darshan of God is never painless), I did manage to see “Bow Barracks Forever, a movie that stars Moonmoon Sen. Before I talk about Moonmoon’s performance, let me give a brief introduction to Anjan Dutt, the director of this most marvelous work of art.

Anjan Dutt is one of Kolkata’s much vaunted “intellectuals”. His claim to fame, besides directing “art movies” , is singing “jeebonmukhi gaan” (English translation: life-affirming songs), the majority of which have one single theme. That being “I am a poor boy. You went away and married a rich man. Do you still remember me? Are you happy?”. And in the case of Anjan Dutt, it’s just not the subject but also the tune that gets recycled.

Anjan Dutt also has another little obsession (or perhaps I should say “cause”) that he likes to indulge in from time to time— the travails of the Anglo-Indian community of Kolkata. Whether it be his great hit song, Maryanne, about an Anglo-Indian who gets rejected by the Bengali boy because her skin is ironically not fair, or his directorial venture BadaDin (Bengalis take care to pronounce this as Boro-din and *not* as Bada Din) about an Anglo-Indian singer being intimidated by evil “native” Bengalis, Mr. Dutt strongly maintains his focus.

As he does in 2007′s “Bow Barracks Forever”. The non-Christian Bangalis are predictably either the villains or the buffoons, out to grab the humble tenements of the Anglo-Indians.

And the Anglo Indians?

Yep they are all here—all the stereotypical Anglo characters that you have seen in Hindi movies for the last 100 years.

The drunk. The cheat (imaginatively called Peter the cheater). The horny wife. The wife-beater. The criminal. The musician. The promiscuous doing “lafda” with “chokra-log”. The big-hearted pastry-making matriarch.

Despite their mind-boggling variety what unites these Lobos and Bragananzas are that they are all losers, all desperately poor, all weak, all hate the city, all golden-hearted (well except the Armenian) and all of them use the words “bugger”, “man” and “bloody” in virtually every sentence they form.

Of course, from my personal experience, the Anglo-Indians I ever came across were well qualified, focussed on their life, spoke unaccented non-Braganza English and usually avoided the use of the word “man” after every sentence.

But then the Anglo Indians I knew must have been the exception.

I am sure Mr. Dutt knows better.

Because one thing to remember is that “Bow Barracks” is an art movie. Hence it is good.

If the director was Navkumar Raju (the director of “Topless” and “Flirt Mera Dil”), then yes one could argue that the Anglo-Indian characters are all stereotypical and unidimensional.

However since this is high art, we must say that the director goes against stereotype while reveling in it (whatever that means).

Again if the director was TLV Prasad, we could get away by saying that the actors hyper-act (i.e. ham inconsolably) throughout the length of the movie, with exaggerated emotions and facial contortions.

However this being very intellectual, we are obligated to say that the characters are raw, earthy, emotional and sensual.

And it is because of the movie’s artiness and worship of gritty reality that we get to see an exposed male bottom (however with the underwear perched precariously close to the foothill of the buttock—after all no director wants overexposure)

[Figure 3: Sabyasachi Chakraborty, last seen doing kung-fu fighting as Feluda, plays an "Armenian" whose side-burns and jacket make him look like he just stepped out of the sets of Grease]

Wait wait you say. How come we started off with Moonmoon Sen and ended up with Sabyasachi’s sideburns?

Okay here is the deal.

“Bow Barracks Forever” would have just remained an amazing art film had it not been for Moonmoon Sen. Back to the frontlines of mainstream acting after a lengthy hiatus, she is now four times her original size and sixteen times as skilled in her craft. In the very few scenes that she has, Ms. Sen elevates “Bowbarracks Forever” to the level of a Battleship Potemkin or King Kong. Of course it must be said that she is helped a lot by the director’s imagination and George Baker’s blue thong-like undies.

George Baker who? Another diamond in the rough, George Baker is well-known to a generation of Bengalis as “Gora” and as the scheming manipulator in the corporate-family drama “Chowdhury Pharmaceuticals” where he, Moonmoon and later-to-be-head-of-Kolkata-Corporation Subroto Mukherjee sizzled so sensationally that even Satyajit Ray reportedly called the unintentional hilarity “better than Chaplin“.

In an example of brilliant color-blind casting, perhaps the only Anglo-Indian from Kolkata, George Baker is cast as a married Bengali insurance agent, Vipin, who sells insurance policies to the Anglo-Indians and provides premium service to Moonmoon Sen, who essays the role of sexually frustrated wife Rosa.

In the greatest scene of the movie, and perhaps one of the greatest in Indian cinema, we seethe George Baker and Moonmoon Sen characters go at each other carnally like a hammer and anvil as a picture of Jesus Christ looks serenely on. Moonmoon and Baker are in their elements here, giving passionate expressions and guttural sounds of the kind never seen outside Animal Planet.

This is not titillation or just a mere plot point, but an outpouring of frustration and loneliness at its most elemental as old flesh strikes even older flesh.

One must say that the way Moonmoon mauls George Baker’s man-breasts, Mr. Baker must thank his lucky stars that this shot got canned in one take, cause his nipples would surely have been yanked off if multiple reshoots had been needed.

Here is the sequence.[video link] that contains the famous love scene.You are advised to not see this at work. Or on a full stomach.

After the congress has taken place and George Baker walks around in blue underwear (I presume he was an agent of Blue Cross/Blue Shield), Moonmoon displays her acting chops (among other things) with a soliloquy delivered in the classic uber-”nyaka” style ending with the priceless “We are both becoming buddas”. But this is not the only scene where she and Anjan Dutt combine to produce beautiful music.

Later on, she abuses a lady quarter her size by calling that lady “a fat bitch” in a sequence that is supremely artistic.

An equally “brings a lump to the throat” scene is when the great actress comes back home to her husband after being dumped by Vipin. Within minutes of her coming back, the under-sexed husband strips and offers his body to his lusty wife with a “everything I have is yours..it’s not much” (of course “not much” should be taken metaphorically) . In response Moonmoon, restrained and yet so very Moonish, says “I’m the lousiest bitch ever born in the city” bringing tears to the eyes of even the most hardened movie-goer.

[Figure 4: Husband offers his toned body to his wife]

D H Lawrence once said:

The moon is a white strange world, great, white, soft-seeming globe in the night sky, and what she actually communicates to me across space I shall never fully know. But the moon that pulls the tides, and the moon that controls the menstrual periods of women, and the moon that touches the lunatics, she is not the mere dead lump of the astronomist…. When we describe the moon as dead, we are describing the deadness in ourselves. When we find space so hideously void, we are describing our own unbearable emptiness.

While we may never know for certain if Moon-square can pull the tides, affect lunatics and control other matters of monthly importance, what we do know for certain is that Moonmoon Sen is anything but empty, anything but lifeless.

Oh lovely, lovely oh. Don’t stop.

Yes folks. Valentine’s Day is almost here. Which means its time to show how much you love your lovey-doveys. And as we all know there is nothing that expresses ethereal longing as purely as expensive greetings cards, shiny chocolates and overpriced flowers. But, this year, before you rush over to the Archie’s outlets either to empty your wallet or to try to pelt stones at the store and harass its customers, let me take a moment (and a few more) of your time to tell you of a new Valentine’s Day gift-item that is sure to arouse your interests.

Among other things.

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me present GooGooGaGaChoChweetChweet, a CD of the very best, and I mean the very best of Valentine’s Day music brought to you by GB Industries —yes the same corporation that ushered in a lingerie revolution in India with its “Victor Banerjee Secrets” line of sensual inner-wear.

Oh no you say. Been there, heard that. “Valentine Day ke din main kahe doon ankehi”. “Abh mujhe raat din tera hi khayal hain.” Every music company with a CD burner releases these sappy tracks around this time of the year, hoping to rake in a quick buck.

But wait. This one is different.

GooGooGaGaChoChweetChweet is a musical offering to the spirit of Valentine’s Day and to the myriad shades of this special date. Whether it be the sheer madness of first love or the tired desperation of the thirty-seventh, whether it be a declaration of a “special friendship” or its consummation, whether it be an expression of desire for your wife or for her hot friend, whether it be the warm fuzziness of a candle-lit dinner or the fuzzy warmness of the darkened bedroom, nothing and I mean nothing captures each aspect of Valentine’s Day as accurately and as inclusively as this musical medley, drawn almost exclusively and eclectically from Hindi movies from the 1980s and the 1990s.

Still confused?

Don’t blame yourself. Love does that to all of us.

Just read on as we give you a teaser into what we have for you in our exclusive collection.

Track 1: Mamma Mia Pom Pom [Video Link] Movie: Justice Chowdhury

Rarely has love been expressed as poetically as in the lines “Mamma Mia Pom Pom”. If Valentines’ isn’t the time for pressing each other’s accelerators (“accelerator aur dabayo”) and doing “pom poms” while jumping around as if one’s pants are on fire, then pray tell me what is?

Track 4: Aoooaaaa [Video Link] Movie: Shola Aur Shabnam

Yeh ishq naheen hain asaan. What if the girl you desire is “kisi aur ka”? Imagine you are a 30-something NCC cadet and walk into a club to find her dirty-dancing with someone like Monish Behl. What do you do? Just watch Govinda as he wins the girl over with his awesome dance moves and spreads so much passion in the air that even the Hiterlian Major (Anupam Kher) and the Commissioner ( Alok Nath) can do nothing but scream Aoooaaa in lust and kiss each other.

Track 5: Oii Amma [Video Link] Movie: Mawaali

Love soars. Saris fly. Very few songs cut to the chase as quick as this song featuring Jeetendra and Jaya Samajwadi Prada, leaving no doubt in the minds of people that “love is all about never having to say you are in a sari“.

Track 8: Are You Ready? [Video Link] Movie: Naakabandi

When the moment comes and your lover is dropping signals left and right that she is willing to “give it up”, are you “ready”? I mean seriously. Are you “ready”? Or do you have to say “Makanakamakanaka Jhingjhing Chakamaka” and get a whole troop of choreographed vampires and snake-frying orientals dance behind you as you reach inside your wallet trying to find that blasted rubber you thought you had there.

Track 12: Aaj Hum Tum O Sanam [Video Link] Movie: Saathi

Who says Valentine’s Day is only for heterosexual love? No-one. This lovely song from the movie “Saathi” in which Aditya Pancholi and Mohsin Khan (a Pakistani opening batsman famous for partnerships with a certain Mud-Ass-Ar ) play two very happy friends, making no secret of their preference for each other even as the heroine pines for them, is dedicated to all you Adams and Steves.

Track 13: Sorry Sorry [Video Link ] Movie: Zaalim

Face it. All of us have, at some point of our lives, screwed up our love interactions—compared the stamina of our current lover with our ex-s, written the wrong name in a romantic card and forgotten to clear the cache after using our partner’s machine to surf the Net. Next time such a thing happens, do as this song does. However do remember to get the Geisha girls beforehand.

Track 14: For Adults Only [Video Link] Movie: Aakhri Ghulam

I am sure that I can speak for all guys when I say that they do love it when girls tell them their life stories, hopes and aspirations– memories of family weddings, outings to the circus and desire to have two kids. But what they most appreciate is the “one-track-mind” girl whose book of life is, as the song goes, for “Adults Only” (preferably with illustrations)

Track 16 (Bonus): The Condom Song [Video Link]

One thing to remember during Valentine’s Day is safety. Which is why we include the public service “Condom Song” in our collection ,combining as it does public service, information and viral nirodh dance moves in a way that is extremely rare.

We have not told you the details of our full list of course.

As the song goes: Thoda intezar ka maza lijiye.

Oops I didnt give away one more track did I?

Our operators are online, waiting for your call. Order now and we will be eternally grateful to you. Call within the next fifteen minutes and we will be doubly eternally grateful to you. Yes that’s right. At no extra cost.

So what are you waiting for?

Let’s spread the love.

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.

First up [ link courtesy Thalassa ] is this video, a beautiful expression of the Bihari identity. In a typical educational institution (i.e.where the students are armed with country-made shotguns and revolvers as per screen-shot from video above), a group of students are being compelled by red-goggles wearing non-state goons to do push ups holding their ears. Their only crime: having been born in Bihar. Fear not however as Manoj Tiwari, playing a green-sweater-clad (Janata Dal) student leader (in some other places he would be an emeritus professor at his age) arrives like a stream of light. He exhorts the subservient Bihari students to believe in themselves, intimidates the rapscallions with the “Hum Bihari, Dil baate bhola bhala, Humreke neta sab ke nachawe wala” (what a lovely description of Lalloo let me add) song and then when the goombahs derisively refer to him as a “Bihari”, pounds them with his superior singing voice and strong personality till they start leaking from their plumbing (as the song goes: “Pipe main hoi jayi soooo”). Note how the red goggles of the gunda, initially a metaphor for control and an instrument of fear, is drained of its sinister symbolism once the Bihari student leader snatches it away and then magnanimously returns it with a “Jao maaf kar diya. But never again” asserting again the power of symbols in subaltern power equations. [Video link]

This next video is significant because it provides us an insight into the politics of the Hindi heartland specifically ex CM Rabri Devi’s administrative edicts, the ones that never made it to CNN IBN or NDTV. I am referring to the one referred to in the video:

(to the tune of “Saare jahaan se accha” )Namaskar, aaj tak main aap ka swagat hain. Bihar main chal rahe teen din se devaron ke hartal aaj samapt hui. Mukhe mantri shreemati Rabri Devi unke maangein sweekar karte huye Bihar ke tamam bahujaiyon ko phagan bhar ke liye free karne ki ghoshna ki hain. Devar jab chahe, jahaan chahe, jaise chahen apne bhoujaiyon pe rang dal saakte hain.

Which means that according to Aaj Taak, Bihar chief minister Rabri Devi has acceded to the demands of the striking brother-in-laws and declared that they may, whenever however and wherever put color on their brother’s wives and no action will be taken against them. The video then heart-wrenchingly details the dilemmas of the migrant Bihari workers who demand leave to go back to Bihar else “the neighbourhood loafers will have their wives’ prasad”—whatever that means. [Video link]

The next two videos paint a picture of the proletariat’s social life in the heartland—-in the first one, a slightly inebriated working-class husband comes home expecting some sweet loving and home-cooked food but instead is kicked and broom-whipped by his wife even as he screams “Ramkoli aieee Ramkoli” (some disturbing parallels with my own marital life) in a way that can only be described as supremely romantic. [Video link]

The second one is more than a bit disturbing. An old man who has trouble holding his bladder is repeatedly calling his son Anandamohon to take him to the toilet else “dhotiya maan ho jaayein” (he will let loose inside his dhoti) but his son, rendered heartless by his bewitchingly beautiful wife is more concerned about making love to his spouse than discharging his duties as a son. [Video link]

And this concludes, for today at least, our journey of discovery through the living breathing history as captured in these videos on Youtube.

Kaa bujhla tu?

The undisputed king of Bhojpuri music, he is not just a great singer, entertainer and a total ladies man but the voice of the marginalized, those who when they hear a tune on radio can never say “They are playing our song”.

People like tailors—those misunderstood people forever berated for getting the measurements wrong, delivering months after delivery dates and sometimes of even letting their fingers linger for a second too long while taking measurements.

Well not any more. In “Rasia Tailor” , Radheshyam Rasia paints an evocative picture of the tailor’s life through a ballad highlighting the difficulties that he has to surmount every day in the performance of his duty. [Watch the video here]

Firstly he has to cope with severe labour problems. The subordinate tailors are always dancing. And throwing half-sewn blouses about with gay abandon. Very little work and all play.

But Rasia Tailor, Radheshyam’s alter ego, still manages to keep his customers satisfied. And that is some challenge.

Cause they are a varied lot, each with their own little idiosyncrasy.

As an example, some women are buxom which, as any tailor would tell you, poses its own problems–something poetically expressed in the following lines:

Bhari bodon tumhar ba
Maap le le chute paseena
Dahiye chote hamar ba
Pohuche na paaye jo pheeta lagaiyi
Upar se dahiye mutail ba

In other words, her body is so heavy (especially her upper torso) that the tailor is sweating and finding it troublesome to reach her with his tape.

And then there is that other kind of woman. Those that just cannot stand still and keep moving their bodies seductively under the influence of the tailors’ strong electromagnetic mojo. This kind of swaying, needless to say, causes immense discomfort to the tailor who is concerned that when the dress is ultimately found to be off-specification, he will be shouted at and noone will remember the sensuous wringing of the lustful woman when her measurements were being taken.

The tailor’s solution to each problem is simple. “Suth ja suth ja” he exhorts as he makes his woman clients lie down on the bench promising them “Maap le le hum photaphot. Time laage dus minote”. In other words, a solemn promise to measure quickly and do it all in 10 minutes (like most Indian men) is his level of commitment to customer satisfaction.

The song concludes with a message of hope as the beautiful clients dance around with the tailor while he puts his long tape to good use. The tailor in the process becomes one with the dress he has sown, elevated from being a faceless cog in society’s machine to become a vital part of our well-being.

Inspiring.

Then of course is the eternal Radheshyam favourite “Aayo na aayo na, lagayo na re” where in his own inimitable style, he exhorts the hoi polloi to “lagao-fy” those whom they care for. [Watch the Video here]

Performed in front of a live audience, the atmosphere among the audience is electric as they sway to “khatiya pe chador bichao na re”(spread the bedsheet on the bed) testifying to Radheshyam Rasia’s fingers on the pulse and other throbbing parts of the masses.

Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak once asked: “Can the subaltern speak?” where the word subaltern was defined as: “a person rendered voiceless by his/her social status”.

Well now they can not only speak but speak mellifluously with attendant jhatkas and matkas.

And you can thank Radheshyam Rasia for that.

[Acknowledgements to Anirudhb for introducing me to the work of Mr. Rasiya]