Okay

During my first year in college, I once overheard my classmates D and S (both females) discussing among themselves the merits and demerits of the other girls in the class. "What about N?" asked S. "Too showy" said D. "And R?" "She thinks she is pretty, and she is quite snooty about it" "How's Anwesha?" asked S. I held my breadth. "She's okay" said D. I must confess, I was disappointed. I thought D would display some more charity. That she would say Anwesha was nice, charming, friendly, polite and all the good words in her vocabulary. Years later, in a world dominated by back stabbing, criticisms and malice, I know how much it takes for a woman to call another woman "okay". Those words mean mean the world to me now. Thank God, I am OKAY!!!

Frozen watermelons on a hot Sunday afternoon.aah heaven!

Its grand pa's birthday today, though he is not very sure if it is on the 6th of May or 6th of April. He confessed this after we slogged it out on a hot morning, churning out lau chingri, pabda maacher jhol and paayesh. Atleast I thought it was a shade better than gran ma who has no idea which month she was born - she vaguely remembers spring - but it could even be summer. Grand Pa has his post graduation certificates and hences knows his age - grand ma does not even know that - in essence she epitomises Bryan Adam's eternal song : 18 till I die!

Kiss Ko Konnect Karu?

I hate it when a daily soap or a game show that you watch regularly comes to an end. No matter how detestable it is, you get used to viewing a certain program at a certain time of the day. When it goes off air, you are faced with a sudden void. It’s been two weeks now since KBC is no longer aired, and we are at a dilemma. Pre KBC, we used to fight for the remote over 'Kasam Se' or 'Hare Kaach Ki churiya' and all those nameless soaps - we hated each and every serial, but we loved the certainty of getting to see it at 9pm every day of the week. When KBC started and Dad insisted that refreshing our general knowledge was far more important than acquainting ourselves with the modus operandi of the scheming sister-in-law, we sulked, but we capitulated. Suddenly, 9pm was about Shah Rukh Khan and his silly antics. We loved it at times, sometimes, we yawned and looked at the watch wishing that sixty minutes would take only five to get past us and at times, we bit our nails, hoping that the hooter would ring and the contestant would get a reprieve.

But all that is history now and we are lost in a maze of ninety channels and more, wondering how best to spend our sixty minutes. I suggested watching news channels, but gruesome news about war and violence does not go well with paltry dal and roti. We certainly need something that is unreal enough to help us digest dinner. Its 9:20 pm and unlike the golden days of yore, the TV is switched off. I am busy blogging, Ma is finishing her novel, Baba is reading his newspaper and if we had a pet cat, it would have curled up and gone to sleep by now. We are probably the perfect picture of domestic peace, but I sense a restlessness that will remain until our hunt for the ideal 9pm time pass reaches an amicable conclusion.

I spotted a white man on the streets of Kolkata yesterday. Presumably a tourist, he was wearing the customary T-shirt with a rucksack on his back. But what took my breadth away was the lungi he wore to bear the brunt of the Kolkata heat. Green vertical stripes and blue horizontal stripes, he wore the lungi like all other men did. But, much as I appreciated his attempts to localise himself, I could not help noticing that he had missed a vital point. While men in India who do not have the privilege of working in air conditioned offices wear chappals or open sandals, our white man completed his gear with a pair of socks and sneakers!!!! I snatched my camera phone out of my bag but my bus had moved on by then. Perhaps, some impressions last best if left to the memory.

Ugh! Ash and Abhi married each other eventually. News papers and channels have had no other news for the last 3 days – one Jahnavi Kapoor slashed her wrists in public and Shah Rukh Khan and Rani Mukherjee were not invited. Somebody from Lucknow arrived at AB’s doorsteps with 500 ladoos and gate crashers were dealt severely by the security men.

Why should I care?

I do because I would hate to put myself in Abhi or Ash’s shoes. Marriage is after all a very personal thing and I would hate to have people intrude and comment on my intentions. It’s as bad as the whole of India demanding to know who made it to the national cricket team and why the world cup was a disaster. True, I pay to watch the game, but the hype created by the media is really unwarranted. We are a nation that lives on sensation. Following the Georgia Tech shoot out, a similar incident took place today in Hyderabad. A student shot at his college mates, because they were trying to stop him from ragging!!!!!

Cooped in my little world, shut out from ‘real life’ for the last few weeks thanks to a viral infection – suddenly the guns seem a lot louder, the wedding bells jarring, and the colours very garish. The world is too much for me right now.

Just read – Jhumpa Lahiri’s Namesake

Intend to – watch the movie

Oodles of Noodles

Has anyone tried the new Maggi Dal Atta Noodles???? It is to borrow an expression from Stilettoes 'craptacular'. I have always been a great follower of Maggi instant noodles and at the age of 4 along with Thums Up, it used to be my dinner on Sunday evenings. Maggi has rolled many stones since then (literally) - people accused Maggi of clogging gall bladders and small intestines and for malfunctioning livers. When I had a stomach upset at the age of 5, the doctor reeled under the shock of discovering my Sunday dinner Maggi habits for the past one year. Maggi was banned instantly.

Life was difficult and not worth living without Maggi - the advertisements on TV made it difficult for 5 year old A. Chatterjee to forget. Grief overcame me and when my parents found that I was but a shadow of my former self, they yielded...a Maggi a month they decided was not going to send me packing to the doctor again.....

So, I indulged...in Maggi Sweet and Sour flavour (that remains till date my favourite) and Chicken flavour and Masala (that's one the that has survived the see-saw of time) Then, there was Maggi Shrimp and Maggi Kheer (don't remember the exact name now - but it was a sweet flavoured horror) that I gave up after one try. As soon as the factories churned out new flavours and television announced it, it found its way into my intestines. Maggi and I were inseparable.

When we went to visit my super rich uncle - we played Genie and Aladin. He said I could ask for anything under the sun - i thought for thirty minutes and asked for Maggi noodles.

Then Nestle came up with Maggi Tomato and Maggi Curry - but they didn't tickle the palate much. I was into my teens at this time, and the only flavour that was easily available was Maggi Masala. It was too spicy for me and for a while I thought, I was going to give up the one food that I had declared as my all time favourite.

In the meantime, the pretenders were baring their fangs - I hated Top Ramen, but I got lured by Cup Noodles. For a while it seemed that I was going to fall prey to the charms to Cup Noodles vegetables flavour. That was before the great trip that turned me into a true Bharatiya.

Flung into a land half way across the world, where people counted their money in dollars and drank Starbucks coffee, I rediscovered Maggi noodles, paying for it at a premium price at Indian stores. It was the only food that I knew how to cook and for me Maggi spelt survival. Luckily, a few angles disguised as super chefs came to my rescue and I was once again eating 'ghar-ka-khana', but I could never repay my debt to Maggi.

Back home, there is a new flavour in vogue -Maggi Atta vegetable noodles - great taste and yummy - and considering that it is not made of flour , I also feel less guilty about having it. I am also looking forward to trying the Maggi Rice Noodles. But Maggi Dal Atta noodles yesterday morning, was a blot on the history of Maggi and sambhar. I love my Dosa and Idli and I think nothing makes the taste better than a bowl of well prepared sambhar. Maggi Daal Atta noodles is an insult to the holy sambhar and should be stopped. But what next? Shall we now have a Maggi Biriyani noodles? Maggi fish flavoured noodles?

I simply think that I am lucky to have been born at a time when they decided to invent something like Maggi for us common folk!!! Thank you God!!! Even though, you did not time our exit from the World Cup 2007 too well, you did a darn good job about timing my existence!!!!

I share my birthday with Osama Bin Laden.

I hardly know whether I should be amused, ashamed or flattered.........

Our Day

She could not have got it more correct. Claiming to be on the road to nowhere, I really think she is underestimating her capability for understanding people! Kudos!!!!!!!

Its Women's Day and I am pretty sure 85% of the world does not know that its Women's Day today and 90% of the remaining 15% could not care. That's why I got pushed in the train today and did not get a ladies' seat in the bus - today of all days. I woke up late and got late to office and the sun was beating down my head and nobody tried to be extra nice to me today!

But of the 10% of the 15% who care, there was a beautiful red rose for each of us women in the office. I got mails and smses from my dear friends and yes! there will be a function arranged for us in the evening, where men would be participating!!!!! Isn't that super duper nice?

Who cares anyway......every day is a Women's Day as long as you are proud to be a woman. If you hold your own respect and dignity even when the world refuses and if your conscience gives you a clean chit, every day is yours to celebrate!

Here's a big thank you to all the MEN who make women feel special. There are very few of you who exist, but your numbers are good enough for us to carry on smiling in this world!!!! Thank you, from the heart.

She says that I am true blue Bong! I could not agree more with her. I do not go to office on days when I feel that the weather is not fine enough for me to take the daily drudgery. I watch 'Saans- Bahu' serials with religious fervour and yet snigger at them in front of the intelligentsia. I miss my 'maacher jhol' when it does not turn up on my lunch plate and denounce swim suit rounds in beauty contests. I think drinking coffee and indulging in 'adda' in office is a mandatory part of my job in office and rush out of the office with my lunchbox and water bottle in tow, when the office bus takes off. I have routine stomach upsets because of street food and yet I am back at gorging them at the earliest opportunity. I do not hesitate to join the ranks of the protesting public whenever the boss declares that we have to come to office on Sundays to get over with extra work and do not miss my roshogolla in wedding parties. I hate Greg Chappell for throwing Dada out of the team and still hope that Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose will return and solve our economic problems by stopping construction of factories in Singur and Nandigram. I wanted to fast when Didi (Mamta Banerjee) fasted, but gave it up when I spotted 'beguni' being fried. I think no decision can be reached without discussing the same matter over and over and killing time till its too late to decide. I love to procrastinate.

And she says I am a true blue Bong! We need to sit down and discuss this someday and come to a conclusion.

Pritamania

All I knew about Amrita Pritam was that the movie 'Pinjar' was adapted from one of her novels. Till I read this Wild Flower

Now I am hungry for more........

Anwesha's laws for persons traveling in the ladies' compartments in local trains

Law#1: Persons who will get off at station: #1, #2 and #3 from the point of departure must not occupy seats. They must exhibit magnanimity by offering their seat to long distance travelers.

Law#2: No one standing is allowed to book a seat by telling the person sitting in the nearest seat that she will occupy the seat when the seated person gets off the train. Believe in your destiny. If you are standing in front of a seat, play the waiting game and wait for the seated person to get up on her own accord.

Law#3: Women in the ladies compartment are not allowed to talk to each other. It has been observed by independent sources, that meaningless banter is the primary reason for fist fights, foul mouthing and hair pulling sessions in trains. It has also been observed that most of the arguments are because of seats and always take place between persons who are not seated.

Law#4: In the event that two persons are found fighting for a seat, the seat will go to the person who makes them quiet. The law licenses such arbitrator to use violence if necessary to make them quiet

Law#5: Any vendor trying to sell clothes or fancy items such as hair clips or broaches will not be allowed to do so. Women tend to get excited over nothing. They spend hours discussing the merits of the item and then resolve not to buy it, thereby wasting time and patience (of the vendor) However, vendors selling food are welcome with open arms and must give special discounts to regular customers

Shah Rukh Rocks!

The curious thing about being Shah Rukh Khan is that the character he plays always slips into his skin. Raj Malhotra in DDLJ was acting as Shah Rukh Khan, so was Veer in Veer Zaara and Raj again in Kuch Kuch Hota Hain, and the injured footballer in a forgettable movie my memory has bidden Alvida to. When Don was bombing the place, in his mind he knew that he was only pretending to be Shah Rukh Khan and when a ghost in a deserted drinking place in Rajasthan pretended to be a living trader who was pretending to be SRK, he had his comeuppance!So what happens when SRK tries to act as SRK in KBC? While we juggle with acronyms, he gives away his wrist watch to a participant who was winning 3.2 lakhs and gave a wrong answer to slip to twenty thousand. His uncanny ability to dole largesse is not confined to green backs alone, he hugs men and women in the hot seat again and again kyoonki "main logon ko bahut pasand karta hoon" The shrill scream of delight when he phones a friend is real and he revels in it.KBC is fast becoming the show that actors are trying to host to reaffirm their popularity with the masses. Amitabh Bachchan's fading career zoomed into the stratosphere with KBC and Shah Rukh who needs a hit badly has realized that selling laptops and washing machines may not give him the boost he requires. Hence KBC. Under the pretense of exposing IQs the Baadshah upthrones the Shahenshah. Skeptics who had written off King Khan will eat their words. SRK is finally acting himself and what's more he is doing a good copy of Amitabh Bachchan!If the 70's generation is alarmed at the idea of the little guy trying to fit into the shoes of the Big B, they forget that SRK is an acquired taste. He grows on you till you learn that you have no choice but to accept him. He is everywhere. Greeting Ladies and girls and aunties and gentlemen and boys and uncles SRK is an epitome of chutzpah. The panache with which he wears a denim blue suit with tomato red stripes over an equally colourful shirt and beckons you from a billboard is breathtaking. Black satin tie over bare neck and a white shirt unbuttoned for as long you can see and a blazer over it - no one can carry it off like SRK.Watching SRK is fun. Like the way he pretends that his wife is calling him back home when the hooter blows at the end of the show, or his "Freeze It' call. The nicknames he uses for the contestants and the completely unfazed look on his face when he reads a question he clearly has no idea about. SRK is taking over the game in a way AB never did. Even though AB was the chief attraction of the show, he never let himself grow bigger than the game itself! With SRK it seems, things are about to change! It’s less about knowing the answer now and more about being feted by Shah Rukh in the hot seat, rolling with laughter with his gimmicks and getting hugged by him and telling him how much we love him. The quiet dignity of show is suddenly gone and with the infusion of young blood KBC's character suddenly resembles a day in office when the boss is away.The last word will rest with my father. A diehard SRK allergic, I was astonished after one particular episode of KBC. Dad just said "O Paarbe!"

Yahooooooooooooooo

ONE HUNDRED POSTS!!!!!!

It took me long, but here I got to a hundred posts earlier than Sachin got to his hundred one day centuries!

:-p

Me feels like celebrating!

Meri Mummy Ko Gussa Kyoon Aata Hain

Crash!
Boom!
Break!
Split!
Woosh!
Upset!
Fall!
Splush!
Throw!
Cling!

Just about some of the usual sounds that reverberate in the Chatterjee household when A Chatterjee Junior ( yours truly) is around have been listed above. I have been spoken of among the legends of goof ups. The other day when I could not get any sleep thinking of that bar of Lindt chocolate that tasted so good at dinner, I stealithily sneaked out of my room and opened the fridge at midnight. The crashing sound of the milk bowl falling woke the entire house. I was caught red handed.

The kitchen is my favorite battleground - burning food, breaking glasses and upseting the pan seems to be a normal day's work for me. So, when I was banned from entering the kitchen for sometime, alongside everyone else, I also heaved a secret sigh of relief. But even if you take me away from goofing up, you can't take goofups away from me. Like leaving the hot water tap on and cold water tap fully off and walking off only to hear a scream of agony as the person who turned on the shower next got scorched. Like dropping the terrace keys in the kitchen garden and remembering it at night when we had to use a torch to hunt for the keys in a virtual jungle. Like forgetting to lock the kitchen garden gate in the excitement of finding the keys and remembering it only after I reached the third floor of a building without a lift.

I have been good with the car so far, but I almost drove into a wall the other day as my father watched enraged because despite his warnings, I took to driving it when he wasn't around.

I also burst a bulb the a days ago. The fuse had blown up and I was looking at it intently, when somebody shouted behind my back. I shuddered and dropped it. I tried to clean up the mess, but when somebody hurt himself while stepping on the glass accidentally, I realised that the cleaning could have been better.

Talking about cleaning, Ma usually has to clean up my act - all the time - from forgetting to take out my lunch box from the bag to leaving home sans wallet - leaving my mobile phone at unknown places - she manages to handle it all. Patient that she is - sometimes (and this happens all the time) I get on her nerves. Yet, she never scolds me much. I have often wondered why, while slipping over sme oil that I had split in my room, she comes to my rescue time after time and why she never gives up on me. The only thing I could come up with was:

"Kyoonki Ma bhi Kabhi Main Thi"

New Year yes, but Happy????

Another year's here again and I hardly noticed how 2006 came and slipped by. As usual, I am stuck 2 years behind time, and I find it tough to believe that its not 2005 but 2007 that we are in - that's me as usual - jaded, confused and all muddled up.

Saji - a good friend - has resolved this year to eat his words if he cannot keep them. He has written down his resolutions on a piece of paper and has promised to chew it if he breaks any of them. Saji, if you are reading this - I already broke a resolution before writing it down, so I am glad that I did not chose to go your way!

My foremost resolution is not to miss the 7:20 train in the mornings - unfortunately, I missed the train on 2nd January. It would have happened earlier had 1st January not been a holiday. My next resolution is to give work a royal ignorance this year. Work must suffer and cry out in neglect, but I refuse to heed. I had a particularly harrowed time in the last three hundred and sixty five days and it has left me with coal black circles under my eyes and a bloodshot look above. I have been jaded and confused most of the time, have fallen asleep in all ( mind you all!) dinner parties that I have attended, forgotten friend's birthdays and feel like giving up this job by the age of 27.

New Year started with a rather ugly feeling. Some people empowered by USA hanged Saddam Hussein. The whole affair was distasteful. If the people of Iraq were the ones to sentence him to death, I would not have felt so strongly - but this was clearly a case of US orchestration. If the USA can get the President of a country hanged by his own people, then they can get any of us - ordinary citizens - killed any day without a reasonable cause. To begin with, the entire war centered on WMD’s which were never found, but it ended with the hanging of the head of the country. Can any of us be sure of our freedom and right to life after this? I also do not support the idea of capital punishment. Life imprisonment seems little more merciful. Who are we to take away the life that we have not created. When a common man kills, it is murder, but when the law decrees that a man be hanged, it is hailed by all. Isn't the end result one and the same thing?

Umm....terrible things have been happening in Noida too, with all the killings of children. Suddenly, the world does not seem as rosy as it used to be, when I did not know or understand these brutalities. Looking at everything through rose coloured spectacles, is merely a means of escaping from reality, but sometimes its best to ignore those things that we can do nothing about. On the better side, Mamta Banerjee will eat in 2007. The President of India, a former Prime Minister and low blood pressure made sure of that. True, it did not make much difference to the farmers in Singur, but she will live to cause more traffic jams, and train disturbances and make my 7:20 come a few minutes late. Touché!

PS - Tatas sure want to make a car that costs 1 lakh. Do they also want to create more roads for us? When a car starts costing 1 lakh, even an impoverished Indian as me will be able to buy a car with a few years’ savings. What will happen to our streets, when millions take to Geeta Pishi (our cook) who instead walking to our house in the morning suddenly drives her new Tata IndiSmall?

Kolkata on Christmas Eve

Music World and Flurry's behind

Giggles the original 'Archies' and 'Hallmark'





Kwality Restaurant and Oxford Book Store

Autobiography of a spun cotton jumper

Aah well, somebody did pluck the cotton from the tree and then they had to spin it into a yarn in a factory and then some machine wove it into linen. But I will not go into all that jazz. Suffice, that I was born as a spun cotton jumper in some obscure factory in India. Dyed white and black and fitted to the 't' for my size. I wish I knew who designed me, because I thought I looked quite attractive. Then one day they decided to ship me across the seven seas. It was cramped journey with my brethen and it lasted quite a while. When it was over, we found ourselves displayed in a showroom somewhere in USA.

Life was good and life was cosy in the shelf. Till, one day a foolish girl from India who had flown to USA for a short while decided to have a closer look at me. She decided that she liked me and paid for me twenty times the price than she would have paid otherwise , had she purchased me in India. She was back in India after sometime and only much later while sending me for drycleaning did she discover a tag that read "Made in India"

Now-a-days , she looks at me with a tinge of regret. She wears me still, but cringes whenever anybody asks where she found me.

And I thought I was quite good looking!

Not fair!!!

Double Dee

Dear Dee,

Following your suggestion, I watched 'Khosla Ka Ghosla' this weekend along with Mum and Dad. Allow me to thank you for motivating me to watch the movie. KKG turned out to be one of the funniest movies that I have seen for a long time. All of us were in splits. It also brought back some old memories. KKG rightly depicts the attitude of the babu class in Delhi. The way they speak, their propensity to sniff a bribe from a mile's distance and the general notion that all of the people in Delhi suffer from: your bigger your bark, the less is the need to bite.

I loved the scene where Khosla encounters a Jat chowkidar guarding the property that Khurana has dishonestly taken from him. The guard speaks with the confidence that only one Delhite (i know how much we hate that term) can speak to another. I love the political connections and the pehlwans from the aakhra that Khosla's son gathers to get what is rightfully theirs. Not so long ago, people I know ran into a spot of trouble and we had to make similar moves (no, we did not need pehlwans, the matter was solved much earlier than that). Watching the movie made me recall how helpless we had felt that day....just the way Mr. Khosla felt. I aslo loved Cherry ( er..more because the character was played by the irresisitable Praveen Dabas) and his "I-don't-know-anything-beyond-my-IT-job" attitude and his father's pride in his computer engineer son. Now, I could relate to that!!!!

Anupam Kher as the gullible Mr. Kamal Kishore Khosla is believable, but Boman Irani as Khurana the dishonest property dealer is too good to be true. I watched 'Don' on video the night before and watching Boman Irani slip into a totally different skin in KKG was as much a pleasure as a delight. It was also good to see Kiran Juneja on screen after so long. Ranveer Shourey and Tara Sharma were also good as was Navin Nishchol. I hope and wonder that I will see a day in Delhi where the girlfriend drives her guy on a scooter. I thought Delhites were too snooty for that!!!!

To, the other Dee,

I spent the last weekend at your place attending your wedding. Dear as you are to me, I was excited about your wedding for a long long time. But what I saw, rather put me off as far as Bengali weddings are concerned. They made you get up at 3:00 am in the morning, to eat curd and beaten rice ("Dodhi Mongol"). Then you had to fetch water from the Ganges. Then you had to go to a bangle shop early in the morning to buy the "shakha". Then when like anybody else who hasn't eaten food since 3:00 am, you were supposed to feel hungry, I's sisters brought turmeric for you and so began the 'haldi' ceremony. Even when that was over, there was a puja that you had to sit through and all this was before the sun was overhead. While the rest of us lunched, you had to skip the meal. I had decided earlier, that I would fast with you, but somehow, seeing so many friends around, I got carried away and forgot about my intentions. They took three hours to get you ready for the wedding. I have never seen you look more beautiful. You still had to wait without food till 10pm at night, when they started the wedding ceremony. All this while, you had to smile and greet people who had come to attend your wedding. Your wedding was over a little after 3:00 the next day. For one whole day, you had to go without food and yet kept on smiling for the guests and the photographer.

The rituals and ceremonies will go on. Its been eight days since your wedding and tomorrow you will observe the oshtomongola...Really, these rituals will now keep coming on and on, for as long as you are married. I know it isn't exactly a frightfully welcome way to usher in a new life, but I hope you enjoy a long and happy married life. I consider myself lucky to call you a friend, and for you, I wish nothing short of the very best of everything!!!!

Random ramblings and rather rowdy ruminations

“Tsch tsch.” I can hear the silent chiding of the computer as I lose yet another game. “You cannot even win an easy one?” It has been this way for the last two years. I have devoted myself single-mindedly to this game in pursuit of victory at one careless moment when the machine would forget to notice. It never happens. Like a gambler who loses and yet takes another chance, I will myself to try one last time and bear the brunt of another defeat every time.

I never seem to learn. Much like the aunties and uncles who will never realize that ‘Nach Baliye’ isn’t quite their piece of cake. Last week, my mother cajoled me to attend another of those numerous parties that my Dad’s office seems to throw without an excuse. I am glad now, that I went to attend it. There was a “cultural” programme before dinner where “local” talent was showcased. My mother was rather hopeful that I would strum a few lines on my guitar. Women have a sixth sense (atleast I do). Something warned me beforehand, not to take the risk. At the cost of incurring my mother’s displeasure, I refused to be a part of the circus. The function featured a few officers’ wives who were self-proclaimed dancing prodigies. Not content with basking in their wife’s reflected glory, their husbands also joined, a la Nach Baliye. The combination was a total disaster. From ‘Kajra Re’ to ‘Omkaara’, no song was spared. It was quite funny watching the men taking clumsy steps in their office attire. Clearly most of them had not even rehearsed, but were quite keen to please their wives and bosses (who were watching keenly). I hope their annual appraisal did not depend on the performance. I roared with laughter and remember falling off my chair while my mother gave me deploring looks. Well, okay, at least they went up on stage to perform. My mother’s daughter did not even do that, despite owning a fine Fender’s telecaster.

I must be in a pretty cynical mood now. Because I am going to lambast Nach Baliye next. First of all, putting a married couple on stage and making them dance maybe a cute idea, but does not find favour time after time. Nach Baliye -1 was quite a new concept, and even though some of the couples were quite a horror to watch and some rounds were downright vulgar – we digested it. Nach Baliye -2 is worse than the original. In an effort to get hold of 10 more couples, they have gathered together some rather reluctant couples, who couldn’t care any less about dancing. Add to that, most of them are overtly sentimental about getting an appreciative whistle from Saroj Khan or a 10. They break down at the slightest pretext. I remember blogging about how rather disgusting it used to be watching Poonam Narula cry everytime a couple got eliminated. Ironically, when she lost the final round, she forgot to cry!!!

Malaika Arora, one Chaiya Chaiya has made you an expert in judging dances? I thought you were pretty bad as a DJ and I think you are worse as a judge because most of the time the other two judges do not agree with you. In any case, you were quite bad in Chaiya Chaiya as well. Kunal Kohli probably gives the director’s perspective. He’s not much of a director according to me, but, thank God, he does not steer towards controversy. Saroj Khan is the one whose opinion matters and as an ace choreographer, she is the face saver of the show. No matter what, I hope there is no Nach Baliye -3.

But Sa Re Ga Ma should carry on and on and on and on. And Shaan should host it again and again and again. The great thing that they have done this time, is to make sure that the best talent got the prize. It was bad enough to let Debojit win the competition last time, when it was clearly evident that Vineet and Himani were far better singers. Watching Sanchita Bhattacharya win this time was a relief. Hearing her sing was like feeding on honey dew and drinking the milk of paradise. She comes from a family of professional singers and her brother has also won a singing competition in a Bengali channel. They have a bright future ahead. I just hope that she does not end up like Sunidhi Chauhan. Sunudhi sang exceptionally well when she won the ‘Meri Awaaz Suno’ competition, but the quality of her voice has deteriorated so much in recent years, that I no longer listen to her songs. Alas! Not every one is a Lata Mangeshkar or an Asha Bhosle. But Shreya Ghoshal sure has a long way to go. She is an exceptionally talented singer and right now, I would rate her as the best in Bollywood.

Ummm…I seem to be getting nowhere. Would like finish off this postwith the link below.
Should Abhishek marry Aish????
I think judging by their history of breakups – they deserve each other. I also think Rani Mukherjee is too good to have a fellow like Abhishek dumped on her!