These Veere need much weeding!

If you are making a film on girl power and how your girl gang is bent on questioning a man’s right to all the fun, why not celebrate the same with a title that justifies the same themes? So Veere Di Wedding itself is a very misleading nomenclature for a film that wants to put its women on a pedestal. It’s like saying you can’t be cool enough if you are sisters from different mothers, you got to be ‘brothers in arms’ or bros before foes’ because that is way cooler. It’s like making a film on Queen Elizabeth to showcase her as a quintessential epitome of female dominion and then calling it The King! If you want to make a film about women, be (wo)man enough to make the gender specificity shine through in stead of trying to force it to succumb to an indirect gender bias. There are several other lessons we need to unlearn before we start labelling our films ‘feminist’ and ‘liberating’.

1)    Got a fiery spirit, will smoke: So if you are a modern, 21^st century girl-loving, men-deriding, Type A personality who loves to wear the pants, your favourite accessory is not a clutch sweetheart, it’s a cancer stick in your hand. You see, if you have to look gutsy, free-spirited and bold, you got to smoke baby. Smoke till those lungs start screaming feminism from your nostrils and exhaust the other gender into claiming your worth.

2)   Love risque, play frisky: So as per the new feminist lingo in town, if you are standing at a public place, could be a bus stop, could be a bar table, and you see a nice butt obviously attached to a person of the opposite gender, go ahead and give a squeeze to that sweet little tush. You thought that was obscene and so totally no-can-do? God! Didn’t you know that if you are a feminist, you get away with these things? So what if the man in question did the same to you and you’d probably pull a martial stunt on him and make him kiss the edge of your killer stiletto for it? Most men itch for that little gesture of lust after all, and if a woman is volunteering to do it, who’s he to see red?

3)   Need props, try men! So you are dancing at your best friend’s sangeet, or that annual Holi bash in your neighbourhood? Adding a prop was never so easy! Go beyond those loud dhols and oh-so-girlish ghunghats. Use a man as a prop, the more lanky, flat-bellied chiselled and dork-looking, the better. Get him to sway in the background, embellish your Royale Play wall, make him nuzzle over your knee and look at you all puppy-eyed, dying to be petted, or better still, let him drool over your shoes as you point your manicured glitter-studded nail at the door or wherever else you would like him to go fetch!

4)   Sing in a man’s voice: Fed up of all those sexist, chauvinistic and bawdy lyrics that Punjabi rappers keep crooning to? Switch places and change the words to get back at the opposite side, the more offensive and lurid your vengeance, the better.

5)   Get boorish, kick butt: Go on a superwoman binge watch- Wonderwoman, Catwoman, Black Widow, or the warrior women of Wakanda, trip on all of them and infuse enough steam in yourself to get in to a boorish brawl at a public place with another woman. You see, unless you aren’t aggro enough, you aren’t man enough and hence not feminist/liberated enough. 

In other words, make sure you imbibe all those traits that we have been calling out as misogynistic for so long among men and then go ahead and emulate those, with a high dose of feminine chutzpah. Then, and only then, have you arrived, my dear, Bridget Jones kissing, Sex and the City loving, Daenerys Targaryen (but secretly) mean muscle-wielding Cersei Lannister-worshipping woman that you are. Live upto your gender by misleading your clan into doing everything that is wrong with the other gender in the first place!

The Pihu Diary: How a mother becomes the unsuspecting prey of the 'Wordly' wise!

With motherhood, comes a lot of responsibility….advice!

Indians as a habit love to dispel advice and pass judgements. These can come at you from all quarters and irrespective of the fact that the source of that advice or judgement may be highly incompatible to the piece of advice or judgement being given in the first place. Take a look at the inglorious mammoth venting machine that social media has become thanks to our innate need to play counsellor/supreme court judge to all and sundry. We Indians love to be loquacious, are frequently wont to inquire more than is due to us jarring all limits of privacy and individual freedom, and believe that profundity is bestowed on us, as a natural virtue after birth.

So as a mother to a growing child, I have been at the receiving end of well-meaning, unsolicited and often humdrum advice and short-sighted observations of many regarding the upbringing of Pihu. While I have realised this is part and parcel and the immediate and inevitable result of being a mother, there are times when it does get OTT. If this brand of so-called wisdom was hilarious during Pihu's infancy, it continues to be occasionally regressive, mostly common and always comical. Get a taste of this with a dose of my, sadly often silent rejoinders.

Pihu is really shy, isn't she? You should really help her mingle.

No, she is just selective when it comes to making friends, who she is comfortable talking to and simply too moody to mingle sometimes.  We as parents, aren't bringing her up to be snobbish or weaving tales to put her off certain people, so next time she doesn't greet you in passing, don't blame it on us, you know! We can't exactly put a glass of punch in her hand and push her to go make small talk with the hoi polloi, can we?

Ah, she loves to colour, she will be an artist!

Just like she will be a writer because she browses through books, and an actor because she loves to make expressions and is camera-friendly and a hair stylist because she loves to groom hair and a fashion designer because she loves to mix and match her clothes.

She has low immunity. Sneezing and coughing every other month. Tsk. Tsk.

Not that I score better considering the dust, smog and pollution variants in the city we live in. How do you build immunity when everything you feed the child these days is either adulterated or full of 'preservatives or pesticides', where the very air she breathes is toxic for her lungs and the weather fluctuates between 35 and 15 degrees in the span of 24 hours!

She is too thin.

I remember being called ‘too thin’ very often even though as a child, I remember having the same amounts of energy and strength as my peers. Considering Pihu shares the normal weight of kids her age, I wonder why her natural body structure becomes an excuse for people to conceive all sorts of assumptions- from an inherent weakness to not eating well or healthy (note: three oily paranthas a day and generous doses of potatoes in everything). Also, considering she eats as much as any other kid her age and has a diet with carbs, proteins, calcium, fat and fibre in equal doses, resulting in an active mind and body all day, I really get irked by this one especially when it becomes a constant conversation starter for nosy neighbours whose kids are overweight when compared to mine. May be I should just counter their observation with a reply like, “Oh, you think so. Nah! You are probably saying this because your kid is too fat!” Now that will be misconstrued as being too rude but calling someone too thin all the time is not so, right?

And the best one has multiple annexations so deserves last but not the least place:

You should have one more kid because

….. this one looks too much like her Dad. The next one will probably look just like you. (sign that on a contract or otherwise, you foot the expenses on the second one, deal?)

…..she needs a brother. Who will she tie rakhi to? (as if the nation wants to know)

…..an only child is a lonely child. (apart from the cute rhyming, this holds no weight if she is a social/an amiable person)

…..she will learn to be unselfish and caring. (because all kids who have siblings are, those fighting property and legal rights battles notwithstanding)

…it will improve her health. (or worsen it, if the second one is prone to sickness all the time)

…..it is the right time to go for it. (they said this when I was 24, 27, 30….)

…..you are still young! (and of course have no other ambitions apart from being a baby-vending machine)

….it will complete your family. (they said this when Pihu was not born as well, it’s a shameful strategy to overpopulate this vastly unpopulated country, everybody’s moving to America no?)

….it is your responsibility to gift her siblings. (just like it is my responsibility to give her the best education, home, food, lifestyle, travel….money can buy)

…..who will she fight with? (OMG, necessity being the mother of all evil)

…..who will she care for after you? (because of course since she is a woman, how else does she justify her gender?)

….and as archaic as it sounds, well, every family needs a son. (because you see every dynasty needs a conqueror who can ambush enemy territory and grow his kingdom. Amen. Or a la Khilji, Inshallah!)

So given the prolificacy of advice we Indians are capable of, you would think everything in our nation functions at clockwork precision because you see, since we are so worldly-wise and clairvoyant, we would pretty much know how to steer the wheel of life and keep things in control, most often. Surprise, surprise, we are the country with insoluble issues at hand- from population control to pollution woes, traffic chaos to unemployment, profligacy, abject poverty, rapes, farmer suicides to low-wage earning labourers and of course everything that is a by-product of our wonderful political manoeuvres and misfirings. So what if we don’t know how to solve our own problems? Doling out advice is our birthright and we shall have it.

The Oscar’s Guide to Awards Ceremonies

Let’s face it folks, we love the West, ever since we discovered James Bond, Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Michael Jackson, Brad Pitt, Audrey Hepburn, Meryl Streep, Las Vegas, California, Baywatch, McDonalds, KFC, pizza, pasta, the guitar and Mills & Boons or should I correct that, 50 Shades of Grey. Such is our warm adulation for the other side of the fence, that we are blindly willing to show off that adulation albeit with a desi tadka. So we love our sangeet and bhangra but we love mixing hip hop and disco in to it. We are addicted to Friends and The Big Bang Theory but we swear we can’t live in with boys because our sanskari parents would have a mild heart attack on hearing just that. We devour American products and look forward to our visits to NYC bro, but let’s face it, home is where the heart is. We may be getting generously influenced by all things videsi, phir bhi dil hai Hindustani! So what if our films, music, language, clothing, festivals, weddings and largely, our lifestyle choices are getting increasingly westernised? We still know how to rock that desi swag, or probably I am being hopeful here.

So then why on earth can’t we get around to replicating the things that should actually matter and can benefit us significantly if imitation is really what we are so good at? Why aren’t our roads as clean as theirs, why are we so warped when it comes to superstitions and orthodox beliefs that get us nowhere? Why are we always hiding our conservatism under the garb of liberal self-expression? Unfortunately, we can’t even get imitation right because we often confuse the real with the superficial and the substantial with the flaky.

How else do you explain our filmi awards functions that celebrate Bollywood like nobody’s business but end up looking like cheap imitations of each other with no soul or sense of neutrality. As a result, we see the same old stars with the same old performances winning the same awards regularly, merely because awards have become a mere symbolism of who is in power and whose influence probably matters in the industry. It is about appeasement and self-aggrandisement. No wonder then that most seriously content-driven and committed stars shun these public ceremonies that are an occasion for the A-listers to strut their stuff and pat each other on the back for another year at self-sustainability rather than upping the ante of cinematic supremacy. Our awards aren’t given to acknowledge starry achievements but celebrate grandeur on screen while playing to the galleries. Hence, rarely will you see an actor worth his salt win an award unless he a) is super good-looking b) belongs to a filmi khandaan c) has won a decent claim to fame on the back of commercial potboilers that are cringe-worthy but colossal hits because of the star’s massive fan-following. d) is willing to shake a leg to his popular songs and set the stage on fire at the show.

For once, dear juries, event organisers and curators of these grand ceremonies, can we go back to doing what we best do, imitate the west but this time learn from the masters how to polish our act to match international standards? Here’s an easy-peasy guide to making our filmi awards functions as applause-worthy as the Oscars.

1)      Multiple Hosts for Multiple Award Categories: So there is a main host, then there are those who announce each award and then because we love doing everything in excess, there are other co-hosts who bring in each category of awards to be given. Either the sponsors of these awards shows have too much money or we have too much time on our hands to simply watch insipid announcers call out other insipid semi-celebrities/sponsors/business tycoons to announce the winners of the awards. Yawn!

2)      The Curious Case of Mass Marketing: What is with the tastelessly overt Lux Cozi, Manikchand, Kamla Pasand and All Clear Dandruff Shampoo promotions on our awards shows? Not only do we get exhausted watching those ads on a rotational basis every 5 mins in to an awards announcement but even the emcees gasp for breath, rattling off their names each time they have to welcome us back after a break. Yeah, awards shows are expensive investments and every brand wants its mention a certain number of times but does it mean rubbing our nose in to whatever tobacco you are endorsing?

3)      The Drudgery of Dance: The repetitive and inane dance performances to a popular medley of songs by stars really gets on the nerves after a point, what with twenty different awards ceremonies indulging in the same sort of entertainment, entertainment, entertainment. It’s a great source of supplementary income for the stars but do we really want to see them, prance to the same steps wearing outlandish and often hideous outfits, in function after function? How about in stead, giving the vocalists and musicians of these films some space on stage? Why do our public performances have to be about the stars, by the stars and for the stars only?

4)      My desi twirl, my desi twirl: We know we love to dress up. So do Hollywood actors but why not give our own ethnic wear a chance when stepping out on that red carpet? In spite of us having our own sarees and lehengas to match formal evening gowns, our actors are busy trying to outdo their foreign contemporaries by wearing Versace and Prada when that is not really traditional attire or one that celebrates our nationality. If our Hindi awards ceremonies are meant to celebrate ‘Hindi’ cinema, why not celebrate being Hindi, to start with? Time and again, it is only the usual suspects Rekha, Vidya Balan and yesteryear veterans like Hema Malini who are found to champion the ethnic silks and handcrafted sarees of India. The young brigade, irrespective of gender would rather be seen in tuxedos, dinner jackets for the men and side-split gowns with plunging necklines for the women, cloning the west mindlessly and losing out on showcasing our glamorous individuality in the process.

5)      Short Messaging Service: How about our celebrities packing in some punch and standing up for a cause when they thank the fraternity for their achievements? Look at the kind of issues celebrities in the west are finally managing to rake up- gender equality, sex discrimination, racism, equal pay for everyone, environment conservation, global climatic change, the current state of democracy in the US, terrorism and so on. Why are we oh-so-indifferent to everyday harsh realities that stare us in the face? Is it because cinema is all about escapism and no one wants to rock the boat?

Sridevi: The Gorgeous Goddess of Grandeur

As shots of her last rites filled our screens, her lifeless body bedecked in a rich Kanjeevaram red and gold saree with a bright red bindi and lipstick, adorning a mute face that expressed more than words, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of deprivation. The whole nation mourns Sridevi’s passing away so suddenly, even as her elder daughter gets ready to follow her footsteps towards charting her own career as an actor in the Hindi film industry. The show must go on as they say even as generations of fans rue the loss of a gigantic on-screen personality, who starred in over 300 films from the age of 4, making a mark in regional as well as Hindi cinema. If there is one actor whose life exemplifies an illustrious career that is inspirational for contemporaries as well as future generations, it is hers.

However limited her public persona may have been after her marriage to Boney Kapoor, even her comeback that was English Vinglish in 2012 demonstrates how an artist just needs the right platform to showcase her talent, no matter how long her self-imposed hiatus may be. Most people in the industry swear by Sridevi’s mettle when it comes to her acting, dance, dialogue delivery, screen presence and utmost discipline to her craft. The fact that this otherwise reticent actor was able to bloom into a full-fledged flamboyant diva as soon as the cameras rolled, is awe-inspiring as well as noteworthy. Indubitably, she was one of those actors who laid down the rules of gender equality in an otherwise primarily male-dominated industry where her leading co-stars like Amitabh Bachchan, Jeetendra, Vinod Khanna, Rishi Kapoor and Anil Kapoor ruled the roost and enjoyed massive fan-followings. Popularly deemed the first female superstar, she was able to hold her own even while rubbing shoulders with them in film after film. She also was a constant threat to other actors in claiming every meaty role that came their way at a time when female characters were usually relegated to playing romantic partners or damsels in distress to add further glory to the macho hero. Sridevi was no novice to the world of films when she landed in Hindi films, having spent the better part of her childhood in Tamil and Telugu films since 1967.

I still remember looking out for her but being disappointed seeing her in a miniscule role as Julie’s younger sister in the film by that name starring the formidable Lakshmi in the lead. It was not until 1979 that Sridevi would make her presence felt in the lesser known Solvaan Saawan where she really made her debut as a Hindi film heroine. A spate of regional films later, she won thunderous applause for her high-octane performance complete with thumping dance moves in Himmatwala opposite then superstar Jeetendra in 1983. Suddenly, props like earthen pots, gigantic replicas of drums, daflis and other props took a life of their own as Sridevi perfected the art of thumkas and jhatkas, steam-rolling in to the hearts of millions of Indians and proving to be a choreographer’s dream come true. If her pelvic thrusts and thunder-thighs were making people sneer and chuckle, she proved her detractors wrong and managed to reduce everyone to tears with a heart-rending performance in Sadma the very same year. Her potrayal of a lost and mentally regressive woman was so poignant, it moved even her own daughter Jahnavi to call her mother mean as she herself claimed in an interview, when her character is shown abandoning her philanthropist turned madman lover Kamal Haasan in the film after having fully recovered from her condition.

I claim no loyalty to her ‘80s phase otherwise, having consciously ignored her range of films at this

time like Inquilaab Tohfa, Nagina and such other run-of-the-mill fare. However, her small appearance as the drug addict in Jaanbaaz, gyrating to the soulful ‘Har kisi ko nahi milta’ opposite Feroz Khan was hardly a forgettable guest appearance for the sheer sensual quality she brought to that song, offset by its moridbund mood. My fangirl moment when it comes to this versatile actor was when I saw her in Mr.India in 1987. This film saw Sridevi in her element, she lit up every frame whether she was enacting a comic sequence in her Charlie Chaplinesque mode or her sexy avatar as the passionate lover of an invisible superhero in the song Kaante Nahi Kaat te. The film gave her ample room to explore her own penchant for performance and she simply sizzled through it like a firework display. This was a cue to future filmmakers on how to really bring out layers in a female actor’s on-screen persona, taking her presence beyond just being a romantic interest to the hero of the film. No wonder filmmakers like Yash Chopra and Pankaj Parashar went on to give her roles in Chandni and Chalbaaz respectively, which would not only shine on her CV but also give lessons in superlative acting standards to female actors for the future. Here was a Hindi film heroine, giving her male counterparts in these films a run for their money, matching steps with them, dialogue to dialogue and expression to expression to emerge victorious and worthy of the honour for cinematic excellence she was bestowed with in later years. All this charisma held her in good stead in a path-breaking film like Lamhe where Yash Chopra really put her to the litmus test. Here was a role which people were most likely to hate her for and yet, she managed to come out trumps with her effortless essaying of a girl in love with a man old enough to be her father. She defied convention and orthodox beliefs when she stood her ground before her lover, lovelorn enough to fight his every critic but unwilling to let him overlook her individuality, despite her resemblance to her mother whom he earlier loved. The film may not have been a box office success but deservedly won her critical acclaim and audience love galore.

A seasoned veteran of double roles, she managed to outshine herself in the multistarrer Khuda Gawah as well, playing mother and daughter in this action-packed revenge drama opposite superstars Amitabh Bachchan and Nagarjuna. Let’s not forget that she was the co-star to actors like Kamal Haasan, Rajnikanth and Amitabh Bachchan who were literally deified and known to amass not fans but followers since a pre-Twitter era. To carve her own niche amongs these stalwarts is a matter of pride if not reason for hubris. The debacle of the highly ambitious Roop Ki Rani Choro Ka Raja may have slowed down the accelerated pace at which Sridevi rose to claim her fame in the ‘90s but films like Gumrah and Judaai still proved that she was down but never out. Her subsequent comeback in English Vinglish surprised her fans, and reopened her diary of artistic achievements, as the audience happily embraced her in her demure, fresh, sensitive and subtle potrayal of a housewife who reclaims the respect of her loved ones by learning English. From practicising how to make laddoos in order to look convincing in her role as Shashi to isolating herself to express internal pain and struggle in Mom, these films proved that Sridevi’s dedication to her craft was intact and in fact, the driving factor for her success even after so many years.

This deep-seated need for perfection manifested itself in her personal life in recent years as well as

she turned out in fabulous designer lehengas, sarees, cocktail gowns and jumpsuits, styling herself as an epitome of grace, charm and elegance in every Instagrammable frame, giving her daughters major competition in the quest to look like a fashionista. Not one to let age catch up, her cosmetic makeovers and slender frame may have become reason for much debate and discussion alongwith murky details surfacing about her tragic and sudden death. I believe we have suffered a big loss with her demise and we must in stead, grieve the body of work that she could have gifted us with were she alive today. However untimely her death may seem and harsh as well, I can only sum it up in two lines:

Probably this is how an inspirational icon must go…
leaving legions of fans craving for more.

The Painful Paean that is Padmaavat

So everyone is finally happy that the most controversial film in Bollywood has managed to see the light of day and grab attention even after its tumultuous release. Is this Sanjay Leela Bhansali's best work. No. Will her role as the deified queen seal Deepika Padukone's status as Bollywood queen for posterity? I hardly think so. Was this magnum opus deserving of all the censorship it underwent to please a fractious and irrelevant clan of hooligans who claim to be sworn protectors of a royal dynasty? Absolutely not. And yet, the film seems to have validated its presence in the modern context by going on to win plaudits as well as box office return even while detractors and trolls alike are still attacking the film for all it potrays, honours and stands for.

From the conceptualisation to the characterisation of this film, everything in the making of this film spells problematic from the word go. Why? Because when you do not have enough material to base your historical/mythical story on, it will either fall flat on its face when it comes to creating verisimilitude or come off at the seams, even when you manage to sway the audience with glorified visuals of cinematic splendour. I watched this film in 3D and yet, despite the delicious expanse of its canvas, the film lacked depth, simply because it didn't even try hard to convince the audience that this in fact could be authentic. A film is not meant to be a chapter for history books. It can indulge in fictitiously depicting an age, character or event provided it mentions the same. No one should be looking for authenticity here. For that you have libraries. At the same time, please don't expect a film stuck in a certain orthodox era to enlighten us about feminism and modern outlook. After all, the film never meant to take sides about how jauhar or sati are not acceptable, it merely brought to the fore a previously unseen story about an erstwhile queen who made this inedible choice due to her circumstances and the period she lived in, albeit in the wrong century.

Of course, we cannot go back to that time in order to identify with her but neither can we demand that our generation of millenials buy in to this sort of self-sacrifice in this day and age. So who is the audience this film is trying to appeal to- youngsters who won't flinch to defy their own parents's decisions these days on matters of their lifestyle choices and actually shun marriage as too conventional in this virtual age of Tinder and speed dating? Are they sensitive enough to be moved by the moral conduct and strict norms that women of a long-forgotten century had no choice but to adhere to? Will they be able to identify with her or relate to her from the cushioned lounge seat they are watching the film from? Does the filmmaker engage in coercing us in to abject submission to the film's moral high ground in the garb of honouring a community's ideas of honour, pride and integrity even if it comes at the cost of putting down a gender in its wake? A popular actor's recent diatribe on the film does make you wonder about this and while the makers may argue that this was the queen's choice to end her life and not something that was pushed down her throat, it does make you realise the futility of such debate. What choice do you have when there is really no choice the society offers you by way of women empowerment, liberty, justice and equality?

As for me, I really have other niggling problems with the film viewed purely from the cinematic point of view. I was fairly disappointed to see how wrongly Shahid Kapoor was cast as a noble, enigmatic and powerful Rajput warrior king. The love story between him and the queen looked as superficial as it could get with no real reasons given for why they might have fallen in love. The entire plot unravels like a story outline where gaping cracks are left, jarring the very foundation of the film. The villain's entire coterie gets meatier roles and screen time with Alauddin Khilji being the most author-backed. Minor detailing helps etch out his nature, whims, psyche and aggression. It's almost as if while we are led to believe that we should side with the good, we are constantly being drawn in to the black spider's web of evil, that spins an intricate and believable yarn around us. So besides Khilji, it's Malik Kafur and the rebellious Rajguru who manage to stand out as the strongest roles in the film, a strange pity after all the brouhaha over Rajput valour.

Ranveer Singh bites in to his role with a kind of raw hunger seen in every film he has made with his mentor Sanjay Leela Bhansali till date. He is moody, fanatical, obsessive, crushed, victorious and yet defeated, all at once! Wonder why the only character everyone seems to be praising is that of this ruthless, devious and unscrupulous Sultan of Delhi when it was clearly supposed to be an ode to Rajput glory! No prizes for guessing why Padmaavat therefore takes its audience for a royal ride, sans a solid story, sans the poignancy such a legend deserves and in stead ends up as a gnawing misinterpretation of a beautiful queen whose name gives the tragic tale its title. As a queen who is endowed with a lot beyond mere physical attributes, the film would have us believe that she was sharp-witted, an efficacious ruler with fair discretionary powers of how to manoeuvre a kingdom without its rightful ruler on the throne. As someone who was equally meritorious a warrior as she was a strategic mediator, it is particularly incredible how her only way to confront a more powerful and lustful enemy was by ceasing to exist, and becoming the cause of mass self-immolation. What should have been her war cry becomes a widow's wail, that too for a king who was neither able to protect his queen, nor win his empire through military strength or pre-meditated strategy. Particularly disturbing is the Maharaja's absolute nonchalance at assenting to his wife's plea to commit a heinous crime in the name of honour after his death, it's a nod of approval my husband would give for a cup of tea may be, NOT for a request to end my life to honour his name!

Since I started with a question, let me end this tirade of disappointment with another one. Last heard, a Brahmin group of protestors are now gearing up to seal the gates of release for another historically inspired film, Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi starring the oh-so-feminist Kangana Ranaut. Since we have as a nation already gone beyond solving issues of national importance like global climatic change and farmer suicides, we of course have all the time to now engage in fresh debate over whether this film should indeed be cause for controversy or not. I can already see our torch bearers of feminism rising up in arms against the creative liberty that is every filmmaker's right to making a movie. The INR 200 crore worth question therefore is, are our filmmakers shouldering the responsibility of at least convincingly depicting a story on screen for us to uphold it for its merits? Padmaavat failed on both levels, as a film as well as a social comment on its time. Sorry Mr.Bhansali, we gave you a fair chance, but you robbed us of an opportunity to witness and savour a film that was worth our money and your effort.

The Pihu Diary: Cutie on Duty

As parents, you forever want to protect your kids from all kinds of disasters and catastrophes. It means we are naturally conditioned towards wondering if we are feeding them right, whether the texture of the clothes they wear is not giving them a rash, whether they are warm enough during winters and not likely to catch the chill, whether they can be left to walk alone without tripping on the stairs and so on. So what happens when the tables are turned and you suddenly have a three year old kid voluntarily deciding that she is as much an authority on all decisions taken daily? It means there will be power battles, ego clashes and tantrums galore.

So Pihu has honed caretaking skills a bit earlier than we would have expected her to. I'm supposed to hold still till she has rolled up my pyjamas to the right length to step in to the bathroom to give her a bath. If my hair is loose and I am unintentionally running my fingers through them, it means a hair grooming session is the need of the hour. Out come her accessories carefully picked out of my dresser- a hair brush, two combs and a hair band. This is followed by an imaginary massage, shampoo and combing session until she is sure 'I look like a doll'. Dressing up for an occasion means getting a good look-through my wardrobe to suggest exactly what will look good on me. This is accompanied by a complete review of my appearance and a nod of approval which is gratefully received by yours truly what with the pressure of constantly matching up to Pihu's exacting standards.

She already has a personal sense of style you see. Tight-fitting pants that taper off towards the ankles are the rage. Bell bottoms, flared pants and loose-fitting denims are passe and best relegated to the back shelves of her wardrobe. She even has her own unique way of wearing her winter shoes with the flaps jutting out when she boots up, for a more flamboyant swag. Weddings and parties mean she must wear a dress, just as she wouldn't be caught dead in the cardigans she wears to school once she is back. Night wear must include comfortable pyjamas with a soft sweater that doesn't itch in places. Labels jutting out on the nape of the neck or at the bottom of a shirt must be nicked off and the bottoms of all her pants must touch her ankle or get rejected as being too short.

My daughter has also developed quite a taste for fine dining and does not approve of restaurants that do not have baby chairs available as she insists on sitting levelled against the table with all the adults. A napkin must be handy at all times to wipe soiled fingers and the table clean off any crumbs or curry spill while eating. Trust Pihu to point out any stain or left-over on the floor or table in order to maintain high levels of hygiene. I can almost see her turn in to a very hard-to-please mother-in-law already!

Playing games with Pihu translate in to a clear hierarchy of who is to be obeyed and who is to lead. A game after all must have rules and that automatically means she has to set them so lesser mortals like us can follow.

A stickler for discipline occasionally, shoes must be kept back in their place and one must change in to home wear after coming in from an outing so as to not 'dirty the good clothes.' Any errors in speech are also not forgiven, so you will quickly be corrected on saying 'tum' in Hindi as it is not respectable enough. One must say 'aap' and not indulge in 'gandi baat'. Since she is picking up Hindi and Bengali simultaneously at home, she will often cajole her dad in to speaking in Bengali, knowing he doesn't speak the tongue almost as if she is pulling his leg! Talk about getting bullied by kids. Her dad of course humours her by replying in Bengali just for fun.

When it comes to parenthood, never did we quite imagine a toddler to take on the garb of a meticulous and diligent authority on all things prim and proper. Don't ask me when the coin flipped but it does look like we are really not the only ones carrying the baton of responsible parenting when it comes to Pihu.

How 2017 gave a new turn and Newton to good cinema: A snapshot of Bollywood films through the year

What is common to Rangoon, Tubelight, When Harry Met Sejal, Sarkar 3 and Jagga Jasoos? They are all films that singed their fingers at the box office and will go down in Bollywood as the shining duds of 2017.

As the year comes to a close and trade pundits are busy drawing up their list of hits and misses in 2017 and how much profit or loss the biggest film industry in India made this year, let's take a brief look at what shook and hooked us as far as Hindi cinema goes.

1. There ain't no thing as a sureshot Khan superhit: Yes, whether it was SRK wih Raees, Salman with Tubelight, Aamir with Secret Superstar or even Saif Ali Khan with Rangoon and Chef, all these films proved that just having a reigning superstar or a sale-able Khan in a film does not guarantee box office success.
2. Romance, affairs and break-ups don't create sizzle among lead pairs: Katrina and Ranbir- the IT couple for a while decided to call it quits during the making of Jagga Jasoos. Did people run to catch their chemistry one last time especially in light of the fact that the leading lady swore she will never work with him again, even while she was promoting the film? Nah!
3. Star appeal or not, even good filmmakers can fall out of line: How else do you explain talented and capable directors like Kabir Khan, Imtiaz Ali and Vishal Bharadwaj delivering duds like Tubelight, Jab Harry Met Sejal and Rangoon respectively?
4. Successful star pairings do not mean a good romance: Nobody cared Jab Harry Met Sejal successfully proving this theory.
5. We need to give Chetan Bhagat some rest: Bollywood is so hellbent on turning every film this guy spins out in to a novel that he must be gasping for breath churning out his stories, at the pace the industry seems to be chasing him. Not every book he writes is going to be a 5 Point Someone turned 3 Idiots, so can we not let all his half-hearted books become fodder for celluloid please?
6. Feminism rocks but the script still rules: A good story with a female protagonist is a recipe for fabulous cinema like Queen proved. A lot of times unfortunately, the former part is compromised to stretch our liking for a female central character way too much as seen in Naam Shabana, Behen Hogi Teri, Simran and Meri Pyari Bindu and Noor. Begum Jaan had potential but also highlighted the fact that what's good for regional cinema may not always draw the masses in to the theatre. Not every film is a Sairat or Bahubali.
7. It's all about loving your sequels or franchise films: 2017 spelt this out in block letters like no other year. Just think about the films in this genre that went on to become the highest grossing films of the year- Golmaal Again, Judwaa 2, Jolly LLB 2 and Badrinath ki Dulhania. Commando 2 of course failed as an exception and with good reasons. Vidyut Jamwal flexing his biceps doesn't exactly make a good film you see. Finishing the year on a similar note will be Tiger Zinda Hai as far as speculation goes.
8. Rajkummar Rao- While it has been a fairly good year for Varun Dhawan, the real scene-stealer is undoubtedly Rajkummar Rao, someone who has created his own brand of substantial cinema- his films resonate with a message like Newton, they are gritty even when humorous like Bareilly ki Barfi and celebrate individuality in both characterisation and story like Trapped. He has been a busy man this year and I am hoping for the sake of good cinema- he stays that way.
9. Old wine in a new bottle doesn't always get us piqued- Remember Sanjay Dutt in Bhoomi and the Deol brothers in Poster Boys? Although they dared to be different by exploring unconventional roles for which they deserve full points, sadly they didn't exactly make us scream out 'nostalgia'. Sridevi's 'Mom' however, made an impact after her much-touted English Vinglish which shows how versatility can be strutted, even in your middle age!
10. Content is King, no matter the budget- And finally, I can't emphasise on this aspect enough. Haraamkhor, Trapped, Phillauri, Anarkali of Arrah, Mukti Bhawan, Hindi Medium, Sachin: A Billion Dreams, A Death in the Gunj, Mom, Lipstick Under my Burkha, Bareilly ki Barfi, Shubh Mangal Savdhaan, Newton, Qarib Qarib Singlle, Tumhari Sulu...the fact that the buzz these films created far outdoes the profits that commercial films made sends out a clear message. Content-driven cinema with novelty as a strong element is bound to find an audience in the country at present amid widespread disappointment with regular, cliched fare. This is a strong statement against the urge to stick to the tried-and-tested formula and the audience simply cannot get enough by the looks of it. Long live good cinema and considering Padman is opening 2018, may the trend continue.