Of Mildly Venomous Wives and their Not-So-Mundane Lives

I don’t know if you are yet to be bedazzled by the glam quotient of The Fabulous Lives of Bollywood Wives. Not a terribly original concept as basic research throws up a show called WAGS which is an American docu-series tracking the lives of WAGs- wives and girlfriends of famous sportspersons in 2015-2017 that ran for three reasons. The Indian version is hilarious in parts, predictable in others but a fun watch irrespective of its authenticity. The show made me question how fat are the paychecks these wives cut through their jewellery and fashion labels? Considering most of their husbands are out-of-work for decades, yesteryear stars or semi-celebrities who have hardly been newsmakers, forget roped in decent moolah through films, how do they afford the lives that they have? In fact, that’s one thing they all have in common besides their insecurities, wannabe-quotient and superficial bearings- their unsuccessful husbands.  Yet, they are wearing the best labels, holidaying in Doha, digging in to sumptuous food at the best restaurants in Mumbai and living it up in plush residences in Juhu and Bandra. 

The fact that the show is produced by Karan Johar also means there is a strong catty pitch at which the melodrama of these women’s lives operate. So we see him coming in at vital junctures to stir things up and play these gal pals against each other. To him, they are mere pawns he is having a gala time spinning around his chessboard to cater to the mass’ need for masala. So yes, they all swear by their 25-year-old friendship and yet you have Maheep sound disappointed when Seema and Bhavna do not have a massive showdown and get at each other’s throats after a difference of opinion. They all take jibes at each other in a condescending manner- like Bhavna’s spiritual leanings, Neelam’s prim and proper approach to life and Seema’s fear of flying. Maheep’s foul language would send my mother’s sense of equilibrium for a toss considering none of that is censored in the presence of her kids as well but then what do we with our humble middle-class virtues understand of the high-strung dynamics of our film industry’s hoi polloi? In true classic KJo style, nepotism is out there for some kicks as Sanjay Kapoor rues about how that didn’t get him the big budget blockbusters even as the next generation of kids gets groomed to make a dashing entry. So what if none of them can barely string two words in Hindi, Bollywood was never about getting your diction right, right? So while most average mothers in India are fretting over GRE and GMAT scores for their children, we have Maheep prepping her daughter Shanaya for a ball. Yeah, this is a fairytale world so why were you expecting anything to look remotely real. Le Bal as it is called is a French soiree where nubile nymphets of viable age strut their stuff, coming in to their own. It’s where every star daughter has to sashay into, armed with her proud father to regale people in an almost theatrical dress-up shenanigan. Chunky Pandey’s daughter Ananya’s already been there so there is no chance Shanaya can not go. 

 

The grapevines would have you know that there have been strong seismic waves underneath Maheep and Bhavna’s flowery friendship ever since KJo decided to launch Ananya in his Student of the Year instead of Shanaya. The show would hardly let you guess that with the camaraderie they all put up for our benefit. All the shallow hypocrisy that makes up this tomfoolery culminates in the ball of all balls- an invite to Badshah Khan’s inner sanctum- only here it is the Queen- Gauri Khan who holds stage, throned in the snazzy comforts of Gauri Khan Designs- whatever that is because the only designs on display are the ones that people are faking on each other. So all the lesser known Bollywood wives end up paying their obeisance to the first lady and man of Indian cinema as millennials may not know it- SRK and Gauri Khan. Got me thinking what that made people like Dilip Kumar-Saira Banu, Amitabh-Jaya Bachchan or even Akshay Kumar-Twinkle Khanna considering their standing in Bollywood as original superstars and joint net worth as in the case of the third couple should be astronomical as well. Anyway, this is a world invaded by KJo and hence, the world begins and ends at the feet of this power couple who own and relish ‘jannat’ as well as Mannat. They are in their element as gracious hosts, showering compliments and blessings with full gusto on the families of the lesser mortals. You only wonder how far this charade goes behind the cameras and what these people-pleasing manners ultimately result in. There is a befuddled looking Siddharth Kapoor loitering at this party with no contemporaries in sight. Hmmm….but the unintentional highlight of this glitzy show is Sameer Soni who swings on the balls of his feet as he gloats about his memory of remembering people’s sunsigns with glazed eyes and a slurring tongue. Red Bull and vodka, they would have us believe. Bullshit, I say. 

 

Why I still survived eight episodes of this great Bollywood drama- Maheep’s confession about spying on people with her binoculars, Neelam’s braving a cosmetic session to get her skin tight, Raveena’s frank and friendly advice to Neelam to go for it when it comes to her comeback without a hint of rivalry, that cute French guy who served drinks topless at Mondrian, Seema’s little pep talk with Malaika Arora about motherhood and living it up as a single parent professionally…there are many such moments in the show that keep you hooked and seem genuine enough to hold your attention. I added it to my watchlist as soon as I heard this line from Maheep in the trailer: “Of course we go shopping in a Rolls-Royce. Is there any other mode of transportation?” My husband thought I should watch it alone but gave in to binge-watching it with me with the first episode itself. And it made me feel slightly better for ogling at the luxurious locations and eateries these not-so-demure damsels flocked at. If Seema DM’s a Kardashian and Neelam’s ultimate goal is to sleep in the same bed as SRK and JLo previously did at the Mondrian, I can’t be questioned for making a list of places I want to hit next time I am in Mumbai right. I much prefer crabs in butter garlic sauce to their human versions you see.

 

 

 

 

 

A 'Suitably Safe' Adaptation

 

I vividly remember enjoying Vikram Seth’s ‘A Suitable Boy’, and if you have read it you will know that you have to be sufficiently invested in Lata Mehra’s quest to find her Mr. Right to get through the 1300+ page tome. Mira Nair’s visual adaptation of the book remains faithful to the main plot and characters. For those who haven’t read the book, it is a sufficient reflection of the trials and tribulations of how difficult it might have been to fall in love in the post-Partition era, let alone have a Hindu girl court a Muslim boy. So Mrs. Rupa Mehra has all the zest of a 19th century Mrs. Bennet from Pride & Prejudice when it comes to setting her daughter up with a decent match. The BBC One produced Netflix televised series has all the makings of a literal translation of page to screen with opulent backdrops to convey the post-Independence era in the fictional town of Brahmpur, the Nawabi havelis, the courtesan’s kothi and the British-influenced colonial architecture of erstwhile Calcutta. Lata’s sarees are ethereal and beautiful in their simplicity. Delhi-based debutante Tanya Maniktala playing Lata is a fresh face, and exhibits the necessary spunk that Lata embodies as she straddles the traditional Indian value system with her modernistic, youthful attitude to love and relationships. Maan Kapoor, one of the most intriguing characters in the story whose journey from boy to man is a noteworthy one, is earnestly played by new Bollywood boy-on-the-block Ishaan Khattar, who makes an effort to look convincing as the flawed black sheep in the righteous Kapoor khaandaan. Tabu shimmers subtly as Saeeda Bai, a woman who struggles to give a respectable upbringing to her ward- Tasneem while battling desire and social status accorded to her by her clients like the Raja of Marh. A special mention to my St. Xavier’s alumni and trained classical singer Namit Das who emotes with his eyes to essay his true feelings for Lata convincingly. 

Amidst the rich fabric that makes up this era, what I found deliberately missing in the TV series are the strong political undercurrents that were running through the country at this time that laid the foundations of what India was going to be all about for the next few decades. There are glimpses to the destruction of the Masjid and its repercussions and the oppressive zamindari system. However, the elections in which Mahesh Kapoor loses his seat to Waris, the communal riots and the climactic changes brought about by Nehru’s eventual intervention in the nation’s state of affairs are largely overlooked to give the love story some precedence. In that sense, perhaps the on-screen version lacks the gravitas that the author of the book made his readers engage in and Mira Nair chooses a rather safe way to angle her story for today’s polarised audiences. The story of A Suitable Boy is as much the story of the slow and aspirational rise of the self-made man in newly minted independent India, Haresh Khanna as it is of Rasheed, the Urdu teacher hopelessly in love with Tasneem and struggling against both family and the feudal system in his village. Much sparkle is added in the book through smaller characters but with no lesser depth as the mains like the little boy genius Bhaskar Tandon or Kabir’s father Dr. Durrani, the mathematician. The supporting cast are not just there to add mere flesh to the lead characters’ slow tread towards their eventual destiny. The appeal of this book for me is in the impact of what the British left behind in our country- in the anglicised Chatterji family where Lata is welcomed by her philandering sister-in-law Meenakshi, in the democracy that has been and continues to be threatened by religious factions in India till date and despite western education and influence, how society is governed by a strongly overt moral code when it came to conjugal ties, old friendships and illicit relationships. 

Nowhere is this more apparent than in another highly-criticised and reviewed show, Indian Matchmaking on Netflix again. This is an obvious representation of how we Indians are obsessed with finding the ‘right match’. High-flying and veteran matchmaker ‘Sima Taparia from Mumbai’ as she likes to introduce herself, is proficient in her matchmaking algorithms. She has figured the conflicts of what parents want against what young suitors today really look for in a life partner. The result: She knows for sure one size does not fit all. For someone who has never been part of an arranged marriage set-up, Indian Matchmaking made me as curious as it would a person alien to Indian culture. So it was interesting to see how two random people are actually put together on something like an excel sheet, some calculations made, some divine intervention sought, stars tallied, criteria ticked and voila! We have a pair! So what if the pair or pairs in this series, do not quite make the cut in the end. Post-coverage reveals none of the matches came good and the potential suitors remained only that. Given that the whole process of meeting and greeting was staged, I doubt we got to see what really went on behind the scenes and how serious anyone was about getting hitched through this show. It looks like a great compilation of well-heeled, ready to mingle but highly skeptical individuals who drop the potato at the first sign of a negative trait. It questions the authenticity of ‘first meetings’ and how many are enough to come to that big decision. How much of a person can you get to know when all he or she is projecting his or her best face and attributes to make that big impression. It also hit me that men have no clue what women want from a marriage.  No matter how badly they want to play the role of a 21st century urban equivalent of Prince Charming, they aren’t too far from the conventional mark when it comes to expressing their expectations when it comes to their ‘dreamgirl’. She has to charm the mother, make a valiant effort to ‘fit in’ and is a threat to his ambitions or ideas of domestic bliss if she has firm opinions and comes across as smart, independent and highly educated. The perpetual mother-in-law figure is also as intimidating and overbearing when it comes to deciding on a match for the good-as-gold son, a trait made infamous in countless saas-bahu soaps. So while women may have reached the moon, the roles they must play as wives remain morally ridden in strict ethical codes, writ in stone by other women.