A STAFF REPORTER
Chetan Bhagat hardly looks the kind to write a novel — even a 250-odd pager. But the proof of the investment banker’s efforts is in the form of his debut novel Five Point Someone: what not to do at IIT!
It’s about three friends who have “messed up their grades at IIT (the title refers to the grading system at the engineering college where a five point something out of 10 would indicate student at the bottom rung of the class).
“At something or the other, each of us are always five point something, so we should stop judging ourselves so much,” feels Bhagat, who launched the book at Crossword on Wednesday.
But apart from these somewhat sombre musings, “the book is actually a lot of fun”, through which Bhagat has tried to relive his days at IIT, Delhi.
“The characters are based on real-life people and much of the book is semi-autobiographical,” explains the man whose wife hails from Calcutta.
Initial response and sales have been “great” according to Bhagat. But the next book may be sometime away yet. “I plan to read 20 more books at least till I start on my second novel,” he promises.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Netherworld heat retreat
On a summer day, all the people going down the stairs of a Metro station do not end up taking a train. You will see so many standing in small huddles, chatting away unhurriedly while all round them the world is running pell mell in a bid to catch the next Dum Dum or Tollygunge-bound rake.
The ones who stand still are Calcuttans driven to the netherworld in search of succour from the heat above. They could be students shifting their rendezvous from the park, sales representatives hopping downstairs to catch their breath in between door-to-door knocks, or the glorious breed of idlers who find the para rok too hot for their derrieres this season.
And the best thing about the new-found meeting point is that it’s naturally air-conditioned, it’s free, and though it doesn’t offer you a seat, you can grab a cola or an iced tea to wash down the conversation, thanks to the stalls that have sprung up next to the ticket counters. And as long as they are on their best behaviour, they are not driven out by the cops, who choose to look the other way.
T20 vs IPL
Pakistan was playing one of the lesser teams in a T20 cricket match recently when a group of youngsters entered a restaurant at City Centre.
After the first burst of voices, there was a lull in conversation when
A woman braves the heat. A Telegraph picture
the eyes of one of the boys caught a particularly exciting turn in the match on the huge TV screen.
“IPL dekhchhis (Are you following IPL)?” he asked the others innocently. “No, I am not,” responded one. “Karon IPL shesh hoye gyachhey (Because IPL is over),” he added.
“This is the World Cup, stupid!” the only girl in the group laughed, crushing the boy who had raised the topic.
But if we can Xerox instead of photocopy and Google all Web searches, maybe one day we will call all T20 matches IPL?
Catch, prince
A Salt Lake neighbourhood witnessed an attempt to theft recently, but of an unusual kind.
A lady asleep in a ground-floor flat in a housing estate woke up around 3am when she felt the flash of a torchlight on her eyes. “Who is that?” she screamed, in English, for being from outside Bengal, she did not know Bengali.
The suspected thief scrammed, but not before retorting, in English: “I am prince!”
SUDESHNA BANERJEE
The ones who stand still are Calcuttans driven to the netherworld in search of succour from the heat above. They could be students shifting their rendezvous from the park, sales representatives hopping downstairs to catch their breath in between door-to-door knocks, or the glorious breed of idlers who find the para rok too hot for their derrieres this season.
And the best thing about the new-found meeting point is that it’s naturally air-conditioned, it’s free, and though it doesn’t offer you a seat, you can grab a cola or an iced tea to wash down the conversation, thanks to the stalls that have sprung up next to the ticket counters. And as long as they are on their best behaviour, they are not driven out by the cops, who choose to look the other way.
T20 vs IPL
Pakistan was playing one of the lesser teams in a T20 cricket match recently when a group of youngsters entered a restaurant at City Centre.
After the first burst of voices, there was a lull in conversation when
A woman braves the heat. A Telegraph picture
the eyes of one of the boys caught a particularly exciting turn in the match on the huge TV screen.
“IPL dekhchhis (Are you following IPL)?” he asked the others innocently. “No, I am not,” responded one. “Karon IPL shesh hoye gyachhey (Because IPL is over),” he added.
“This is the World Cup, stupid!” the only girl in the group laughed, crushing the boy who had raised the topic.
But if we can Xerox instead of photocopy and Google all Web searches, maybe one day we will call all T20 matches IPL?
Catch, prince
A Salt Lake neighbourhood witnessed an attempt to theft recently, but of an unusual kind.
A lady asleep in a ground-floor flat in a housing estate woke up around 3am when she felt the flash of a torchlight on her eyes. “Who is that?” she screamed, in English, for being from outside Bengal, she did not know Bengali.
The suspected thief scrammed, but not before retorting, in English: “I am prince!”
SUDESHNA BANERJEE
My next novel is a love story: Chetan Bhagat
Document
6/23/2009 11:39:51 AM Aditya Corp Inc
Page 1
My next novel is a love story: Chetan Bhagat
Shivangi Singh The best selling author in English, Chetan Bhagat has never pretended to being a literary giant with an authority over scholarly stuff, or a great man of letters with the right „international‟ accent. He just wants to be known as the common man‟s writer. Almost always dressed in casuals, with easy-going manners, the author has a keen interest in spirituality, screenplays and always appears genial and outgoing.
The celebrated author of „One Night @ the call centre‟ and „Five Point Someone,‟ was caught in one of his most candid moods by Shivangi Singh of Spicezee at Jaipur Literature Festival. Shivangi: As you said, you have visited a literary festival for the first time. What is your opinion of this literary festival? Chetan: I am feeling very comfortable. I thought it would be very formal with knowledgeable writers discussing heavy stuff, but the festival is very interesting. I never thought so many of my readers would come to this place. It‟s really good in the sense that even the common people are attending it. It is free and inclusive. It is the biggest in Asia and may soon become the biggest in the world. Shivangi: Please tell us about your childhood days. How was Chetan Bhagat as a child? Chetan: I was very naughty. We had a very strict upbringing because of my father‟s army background. And my brother and I were in the habit of telling stories to each other, which explains my inclination towards story-telling. I have done some naughty acts like signing my own report card and cooking up stories to escape scolding from my parents. Shivangi: How did you start writing? How did it all begin? Chetan. My first work was a joke – an original contribution to the school magazine. I was the youngest contributor in the magazine. In those days it was rare to see your name in print. Now it is everywhere - on railway tickets, bank account…but back then, it was thrilling. I have been a student of Delhi University and I used to write skits and dialogues. And believe me, you better be really good in college dramas or you get hooted. So, it all started like this. Shivangi: What is the most interesting aspect of your writing? Chetan: My writing skills are okay, but I always have a good story to tell that deals with reality – things that happen in our day-to-day existence. I am not judgemental, my characters in the book are not perfect, and they do falter. Pre-marital sex, tiff with the boss, job issues – all these things happen, I talked candidly about it when no one was speaking. Now, of course, many are writing on it. However, the best aspect of my writing is the mails I receive from
Document
6/23/2009 11:39:51 AM Aditya Corp Inc
Page 2
my fans. I get about 100 mails every day. I am not able to answer too many, but part of my stories come from there. I received a mail about a suicidal girl, the mail was shocking. I incorporated the shock value in my third novel „Three Mistake of My Life‟. Shivangi: The names of all your protagonists are based on Lord Krishna (Govind Patel, Hari Kumar and Shyam). Is this a deliberate act or just because these are common names that you have used them in your novel? Chetan: I am a devotee of Lord Krishna and want to portray a part of Him in my characters. He is the universal lover and I want to talk about love in my books. My characters are playful, naughty, and mischievous like Him. Shivangi: Is there a reason for this nearness to God? Was there some incident, which made you turn towards spirituality? Chetan: My success has brought me closer to God. My books have done that. My book came four and a half years ago, and it is still being bought and read. It is nothing short of a miracle that scripts are being made on my books and superstars like Salman („Hello‟) and Aamir (forthcoming film „Three Idiots‟) are acting in it. Scriptwriters wait for long years to get films made on their story. My books reached only a part of the audience, but films made on the books served my main intention of reaching the common people, reaching everyone. This divine rule is there in my main intention. I want to win hearts. Shivangi: Do you believe in destiny? Chetan: Yes, but I am not a slave to destiny. I also believe in Karma. Destiny is always there. You have to follow your path and work to the best of your ability. Shivangi: Do you think films made on books, dilutes the impact of the work? Chetan: It is true in the sense that even I can‟t create another „Five Point Someone‟, what is created once can‟t be created again in the same way. Shivangi: You have always maintained that to move upwards in life, Indians should learn English. Would that not mean the death of Hindi and its literature? How can Hindi be revived? Chetan: No, it s not like that. It is like I have always said – Hindi is my mother and English is my wife. It is possible to love both of them. But it is true that you cannot be successful professionally without knowing English. There was a boy in Kanpur, who bought Hindi as well as English version of my book. He used to read English version in public and Hindi in private. English is the need of the hour. But Hindi will not die. At present, there is this trend of making films on English books, soon, filmmakers will explore Hindi literature for good scripts. I also write for one of the Hindi newspapers to reach Hindi speaking crowd. Shivangi: Your take on elitism has often been very strong… Chetan: Yes, the problem with elitism is one starts living in a bubble. If we live in the bubble, we ignore the rest. Elitism is in India‟s culture. The moment one becomes successful, one becomes distant. And to be a part of the bubble, you have to act as if you have gone international with a fake accent and all that –
Document
6/23/2009 11:39:51 AM Aditya Corp Inc
Page 3
meaning cut off from the crowd. I don‟t want that, I want to be a people‟s writer. And yes, media is not covering India. It‟s a very obvious logic; all offices are in Delhi or Mumbai. But 90 percent of India is outside. Media organisations have a bunch of very smart people, but they are out-of-touch. So, they report on things which they like but miss the point. So, sometimes my book becomes more relevant than news. Shivangi: Please tell us about your upcoming book? Chetan: It‟s a love story and it‟s a secret. I am afraid I can‟t reveal more. Shivangi: What was meeting Salman and Aamir like? Chetan: Salman is a superstar in the true sense of the word. He doesn‟t care whether he is hit or flop, he just feels like a superstar. When he first met me during the shoot of „Hello‟, he asked “Am I going to play him”. And, I asked, “Are you going to play me?” Don‟t know, who was more embarrassed. Aamir is a combination of style and talent and he understands his work. Shivangi: Please name the people whom you admire? Chetan: In films, I admire Aamir for his work. Cool Farhan Akhtar for his versatility. I want to work with him. Dhoni in cricket, I believe he is better than Tendulkar as India‟s captain. Sheila Dixit and Advani in politics. Advani is actually trying to focus on today‟s generation. In literature, Gulzar is my favourite. Shivangi: What is your message to upcoming writers? Chetan: Talent and perseverance are the key to success. Talent is God‟s gift, you have to accept your limitations. Writing is not paying - you have to persevere and not lose hope. Shivangi: If you are given one chance to do something for the country, what would you do? Chetan: I would like to be in the same place as the PM. Not MP, not MLA, but the PM, so that I get the power to change the country for better. I will stop writing if I get the power. Shivangi: What is the real Chetan Bhagat like? Chetan: Chetan Bhagat is a dreamer, willing to work to achieve his dreams.
6/23/2009 11:39:51 AM Aditya Corp Inc
Page 1
My next novel is a love story: Chetan Bhagat
Shivangi Singh The best selling author in English, Chetan Bhagat has never pretended to being a literary giant with an authority over scholarly stuff, or a great man of letters with the right „international‟ accent. He just wants to be known as the common man‟s writer. Almost always dressed in casuals, with easy-going manners, the author has a keen interest in spirituality, screenplays and always appears genial and outgoing.
The celebrated author of „One Night @ the call centre‟ and „Five Point Someone,‟ was caught in one of his most candid moods by Shivangi Singh of Spicezee at Jaipur Literature Festival. Shivangi: As you said, you have visited a literary festival for the first time. What is your opinion of this literary festival? Chetan: I am feeling very comfortable. I thought it would be very formal with knowledgeable writers discussing heavy stuff, but the festival is very interesting. I never thought so many of my readers would come to this place. It‟s really good in the sense that even the common people are attending it. It is free and inclusive. It is the biggest in Asia and may soon become the biggest in the world. Shivangi: Please tell us about your childhood days. How was Chetan Bhagat as a child? Chetan: I was very naughty. We had a very strict upbringing because of my father‟s army background. And my brother and I were in the habit of telling stories to each other, which explains my inclination towards story-telling. I have done some naughty acts like signing my own report card and cooking up stories to escape scolding from my parents. Shivangi: How did you start writing? How did it all begin? Chetan. My first work was a joke – an original contribution to the school magazine. I was the youngest contributor in the magazine. In those days it was rare to see your name in print. Now it is everywhere - on railway tickets, bank account…but back then, it was thrilling. I have been a student of Delhi University and I used to write skits and dialogues. And believe me, you better be really good in college dramas or you get hooted. So, it all started like this. Shivangi: What is the most interesting aspect of your writing? Chetan: My writing skills are okay, but I always have a good story to tell that deals with reality – things that happen in our day-to-day existence. I am not judgemental, my characters in the book are not perfect, and they do falter. Pre-marital sex, tiff with the boss, job issues – all these things happen, I talked candidly about it when no one was speaking. Now, of course, many are writing on it. However, the best aspect of my writing is the mails I receive from
Document
6/23/2009 11:39:51 AM Aditya Corp Inc
Page 2
my fans. I get about 100 mails every day. I am not able to answer too many, but part of my stories come from there. I received a mail about a suicidal girl, the mail was shocking. I incorporated the shock value in my third novel „Three Mistake of My Life‟. Shivangi: The names of all your protagonists are based on Lord Krishna (Govind Patel, Hari Kumar and Shyam). Is this a deliberate act or just because these are common names that you have used them in your novel? Chetan: I am a devotee of Lord Krishna and want to portray a part of Him in my characters. He is the universal lover and I want to talk about love in my books. My characters are playful, naughty, and mischievous like Him. Shivangi: Is there a reason for this nearness to God? Was there some incident, which made you turn towards spirituality? Chetan: My success has brought me closer to God. My books have done that. My book came four and a half years ago, and it is still being bought and read. It is nothing short of a miracle that scripts are being made on my books and superstars like Salman („Hello‟) and Aamir (forthcoming film „Three Idiots‟) are acting in it. Scriptwriters wait for long years to get films made on their story. My books reached only a part of the audience, but films made on the books served my main intention of reaching the common people, reaching everyone. This divine rule is there in my main intention. I want to win hearts. Shivangi: Do you believe in destiny? Chetan: Yes, but I am not a slave to destiny. I also believe in Karma. Destiny is always there. You have to follow your path and work to the best of your ability. Shivangi: Do you think films made on books, dilutes the impact of the work? Chetan: It is true in the sense that even I can‟t create another „Five Point Someone‟, what is created once can‟t be created again in the same way. Shivangi: You have always maintained that to move upwards in life, Indians should learn English. Would that not mean the death of Hindi and its literature? How can Hindi be revived? Chetan: No, it s not like that. It is like I have always said – Hindi is my mother and English is my wife. It is possible to love both of them. But it is true that you cannot be successful professionally without knowing English. There was a boy in Kanpur, who bought Hindi as well as English version of my book. He used to read English version in public and Hindi in private. English is the need of the hour. But Hindi will not die. At present, there is this trend of making films on English books, soon, filmmakers will explore Hindi literature for good scripts. I also write for one of the Hindi newspapers to reach Hindi speaking crowd. Shivangi: Your take on elitism has often been very strong… Chetan: Yes, the problem with elitism is one starts living in a bubble. If we live in the bubble, we ignore the rest. Elitism is in India‟s culture. The moment one becomes successful, one becomes distant. And to be a part of the bubble, you have to act as if you have gone international with a fake accent and all that –
Document
6/23/2009 11:39:51 AM Aditya Corp Inc
Page 3
meaning cut off from the crowd. I don‟t want that, I want to be a people‟s writer. And yes, media is not covering India. It‟s a very obvious logic; all offices are in Delhi or Mumbai. But 90 percent of India is outside. Media organisations have a bunch of very smart people, but they are out-of-touch. So, they report on things which they like but miss the point. So, sometimes my book becomes more relevant than news. Shivangi: Please tell us about your upcoming book? Chetan: It‟s a love story and it‟s a secret. I am afraid I can‟t reveal more. Shivangi: What was meeting Salman and Aamir like? Chetan: Salman is a superstar in the true sense of the word. He doesn‟t care whether he is hit or flop, he just feels like a superstar. When he first met me during the shoot of „Hello‟, he asked “Am I going to play him”. And, I asked, “Are you going to play me?” Don‟t know, who was more embarrassed. Aamir is a combination of style and talent and he understands his work. Shivangi: Please name the people whom you admire? Chetan: In films, I admire Aamir for his work. Cool Farhan Akhtar for his versatility. I want to work with him. Dhoni in cricket, I believe he is better than Tendulkar as India‟s captain. Sheila Dixit and Advani in politics. Advani is actually trying to focus on today‟s generation. In literature, Gulzar is my favourite. Shivangi: What is your message to upcoming writers? Chetan: Talent and perseverance are the key to success. Talent is God‟s gift, you have to accept your limitations. Writing is not paying - you have to persevere and not lose hope. Shivangi: If you are given one chance to do something for the country, what would you do? Chetan: I would like to be in the same place as the PM. Not MP, not MLA, but the PM, so that I get the power to change the country for better. I will stop writing if I get the power. Shivangi: What is the real Chetan Bhagat like? Chetan: Chetan Bhagat is a dreamer, willing to work to achieve his dreams.
My Fundays
Chetan Bhagat his books, one night at a call centre and five point someone have been national bestsellers. His latest book is The 3 mistakes of my life
As a child, I lived in a middle-income group flat in Naraina in west Delhi, with my parents and my younger brother. For a long time, my father’s two brothers and their families shared the flat with us, so it meant a lot of cousins living together in a cramped space. My mother had a government job in Delhi, and my father was in the Indian Army — he was posted out most of the time.
School used to be a lot of fun and still holds a very special place in my heart. I remember we had to wear shorts to school until class VIII. Now, it gets awfully cold in Delhi in winter and we used to shiver in the army trucks that used to come and pick us up every morning. I went to Army Public School, which was famous for everything apart from studies! It produced several batches of brave soldiers for the Indian Army. It also had a record for producing celebrities — my batch alone had stars such as actor Shiney Ahuja, model Manpreet Brar, fashion designer Ranna Gill and author Abha Dawesar.
In school, I was always involved in some kind of naughty trick or the other. Me and my gang of friends strongly believed that if we didn’t do anything naughty all week, it was effectively a wasted week! I blew up the chemistry lab once. On another occasion, I locked in an entire classroom of school kids that included the girl I had a crush on. I thought that would somehow make me cool in her eyes, but it definitely didn't.
Another special childhood memory is that of visiting a sports shop near my house. It stored all kinds of sports equipment and lots of good stationery, toys and stickers, all of which happened to be my favourites. I used to spend almost all my pocket money in that shop. But little did I know then that this would become the inspiration for the ‘Team India Cricket Shop’ in my book The 3 Mistakes Of My Life.
Competition is very high when you are young, which is ironic since you, as a child, are at the most fun age of your life. But I think the only way to live happily through it is to balance it out. Have fun, work hard. Don’t be serious, just be sincere!
AS TOLD TO ANIRBAN DAS MAHAPATRA
As a child, I lived in a middle-income group flat in Naraina in west Delhi, with my parents and my younger brother. For a long time, my father’s two brothers and their families shared the flat with us, so it meant a lot of cousins living together in a cramped space. My mother had a government job in Delhi, and my father was in the Indian Army — he was posted out most of the time.
School used to be a lot of fun and still holds a very special place in my heart. I remember we had to wear shorts to school until class VIII. Now, it gets awfully cold in Delhi in winter and we used to shiver in the army trucks that used to come and pick us up every morning. I went to Army Public School, which was famous for everything apart from studies! It produced several batches of brave soldiers for the Indian Army. It also had a record for producing celebrities — my batch alone had stars such as actor Shiney Ahuja, model Manpreet Brar, fashion designer Ranna Gill and author Abha Dawesar.
In school, I was always involved in some kind of naughty trick or the other. Me and my gang of friends strongly believed that if we didn’t do anything naughty all week, it was effectively a wasted week! I blew up the chemistry lab once. On another occasion, I locked in an entire classroom of school kids that included the girl I had a crush on. I thought that would somehow make me cool in her eyes, but it definitely didn't.
Another special childhood memory is that of visiting a sports shop near my house. It stored all kinds of sports equipment and lots of good stationery, toys and stickers, all of which happened to be my favourites. I used to spend almost all my pocket money in that shop. But little did I know then that this would become the inspiration for the ‘Team India Cricket Shop’ in my book The 3 Mistakes Of My Life.
Competition is very high when you are young, which is ironic since you, as a child, are at the most fun age of your life. But I think the only way to live happily through it is to balance it out. Have fun, work hard. Don’t be serious, just be sincere!
AS TOLD TO ANIRBAN DAS MAHAPATRA
Marathon woman
INTERVIEW WITH GUL PANAG
How did you land your role in Hello?
I had read the book One Night @ The Call Center and I heard that Atul Agnihotri was making a film on it. So I went to meet him. He offered me Radhika’s part. In my usual impulsive manner I told him ‘Sorry, Radhika’s character doesn’t excite me. However, I can see myself as Priyanka.’ Atul took a split second and said, ‘Fine; if you are so convinced then I am convinced too’.
What was so interesting about this character?
Priyanka is a multi-dimensional character. She is very much a girl of today. She is very grey. She is faced by the dilemma of making a choice between love and a stable future. Priyanka is the most interesting and complex character I have done by far.
The film has a lovemaking scene between Sharman and you...
That’s not a first for me. I have had a lovemaking scene in every single film of mine. I am not one of those actresses who makes a noise about kissing on screen. If you are an actor, then such scenes are part of your job.
Would you sport a bikini on screen?
What do we swim in? If your scene demands you to be in the water, you wear a swimsuit.
Of late, you have been getting strong reactions for your glam makeover...
It’s frustrating when you are asked a question like ‘Oh Gul, we have been seeing you in a really glamorous avatar of late’. I demand to know, ‘When have you seen me in a salwar kameez? The other day I was Googling my images and there wasn’t a single picture of me in sari or salwar kameez. I am just the same.’
But would you like to do glamorous roles?
Why not! I can’t be glamorous for the sake of glamorous. I got the greatest compliment from Mr (Subhash) Ghai. He said ‘I can’t tell you how sexy you are looking in Hello Darling’. I play a very glamorous part inHello as well.
In Hello Darling you have to interact with lecherous men. How do you deal with them in real life?
Men know the sort of woman they can take liberties with. I am just not the sort of woman whom a man can approach. I don’t give anybody that vibe.
Both Hello and Hello Darling have three female stars. Is it easy to get along with female co-stars?
Competition is natural. It wasn’t difficult but I wouldn’t say it was a cakewalk either. One has to try and make an effort to maintain cordiality at times.
You have done very few films in all these years. Why?
I am happy to say that every single film that I have been associated with has belonged to the category of good cinema. They have been critically acclaimed.
You are looking forward to...
A long innings. I am not here to win a 100m race. I am here to be able to run the full marathon. I am not here for five-six years, to make a killing and become a society wife or a pseudo activist. If I wanted that, I would have chosen a different path, and tried every trick in the trade to grab eyeballs. I don’t want to be just a hero’s wife or girlfriend. Because that is not what’s going to help me 20 years down the road, it’s only the strength of my performance and talent that will sustain me. You can’t wake up after five years and decide that ‘Now I’m going to do good cinema and hope that people should forget the trash I have done this far’. People may think that I belong to serious cinema but cinema is a serious business at the end of the day. I’d love to do a fantasy film or a futuristic film.
So is there a special man in Gul’s life?
There may be or may not be. Why should we go into that?
But why would a liberated person like you want to hide?
This is one place I feel a line should be drawn. Because it can and sometimes does involve another person and violating somebody else’s privacy is not fair. Maybe some people like being known as actresses’ boyfriends but there are people who don’t.
MAULI SINGH (BNS)
How did you land your role in Hello?
I had read the book One Night @ The Call Center and I heard that Atul Agnihotri was making a film on it. So I went to meet him. He offered me Radhika’s part. In my usual impulsive manner I told him ‘Sorry, Radhika’s character doesn’t excite me. However, I can see myself as Priyanka.’ Atul took a split second and said, ‘Fine; if you are so convinced then I am convinced too’.
What was so interesting about this character?
Priyanka is a multi-dimensional character. She is very much a girl of today. She is very grey. She is faced by the dilemma of making a choice between love and a stable future. Priyanka is the most interesting and complex character I have done by far.
The film has a lovemaking scene between Sharman and you...
That’s not a first for me. I have had a lovemaking scene in every single film of mine. I am not one of those actresses who makes a noise about kissing on screen. If you are an actor, then such scenes are part of your job.
Would you sport a bikini on screen?
What do we swim in? If your scene demands you to be in the water, you wear a swimsuit.
Of late, you have been getting strong reactions for your glam makeover...
It’s frustrating when you are asked a question like ‘Oh Gul, we have been seeing you in a really glamorous avatar of late’. I demand to know, ‘When have you seen me in a salwar kameez? The other day I was Googling my images and there wasn’t a single picture of me in sari or salwar kameez. I am just the same.’
But would you like to do glamorous roles?
Why not! I can’t be glamorous for the sake of glamorous. I got the greatest compliment from Mr (Subhash) Ghai. He said ‘I can’t tell you how sexy you are looking in Hello Darling’. I play a very glamorous part inHello as well.
In Hello Darling you have to interact with lecherous men. How do you deal with them in real life?
Men know the sort of woman they can take liberties with. I am just not the sort of woman whom a man can approach. I don’t give anybody that vibe.
Both Hello and Hello Darling have three female stars. Is it easy to get along with female co-stars?
Competition is natural. It wasn’t difficult but I wouldn’t say it was a cakewalk either. One has to try and make an effort to maintain cordiality at times.
You have done very few films in all these years. Why?
I am happy to say that every single film that I have been associated with has belonged to the category of good cinema. They have been critically acclaimed.
You are looking forward to...
A long innings. I am not here to win a 100m race. I am here to be able to run the full marathon. I am not here for five-six years, to make a killing and become a society wife or a pseudo activist. If I wanted that, I would have chosen a different path, and tried every trick in the trade to grab eyeballs. I don’t want to be just a hero’s wife or girlfriend. Because that is not what’s going to help me 20 years down the road, it’s only the strength of my performance and talent that will sustain me. You can’t wake up after five years and decide that ‘Now I’m going to do good cinema and hope that people should forget the trash I have done this far’. People may think that I belong to serious cinema but cinema is a serious business at the end of the day. I’d love to do a fantasy film or a futuristic film.
So is there a special man in Gul’s life?
There may be or may not be. Why should we go into that?
But why would a liberated person like you want to hide?
This is one place I feel a line should be drawn. Because it can and sometimes does involve another person and violating somebody else’s privacy is not fair. Maybe some people like being known as actresses’ boyfriends but there are people who don’t.
MAULI SINGH (BNS)
Ice, called water
Sudeshna Banerjee on the wonders and dangers of learning to live the American way
A Calcuttan without guidance can cut an uneasy figure in America. First, she would lose her voice. Then, if she were non-Christian and a believer, she would be in peril of losing her faith at the meal table. Then of course would be the myriad stumbling blocks that the ways of a developed country can pose to one from a land of have-some-but-not-much.
Even after so much globalisation and familiarity, there is a lot that I faced, fought and gaped at during a two-month trip to dollardom. The journey was occasioned by my selection in a Rotary Foundation-sponsored cultural exchange programme between our local Rotary district 3291 and its counterpart on the Mississippi banks, district 6800.
Before leaving, we were put through numerous orientation sessions. But nobody told us about the piles of ice they put in their water. The first meal I had ordered was a soup at Thank God It’s Friday, a fine establishment that operated on the ground floor of the Memphis hotel we were put up in. The soup was scalding. So I asked for water. They gave me a huge glass of ice. “Excuse me,” I beckoned the big African-American hostess with her hair tied up in minuscule knots and partially dyed golden. “Can I have some water, please?” “That’s waatr on your taible, honey,” she pointed at the ice tub. “I mean, some water without ice?” Seconds of stunned incomprehension followed. “You waant your waatr without ayice?” She was looking at a specimen from Mars and I was ready to dig a hole deep enough to take me back home.
After a week or so, I got the hang of it. They pay for their drink, get a huge glass, walk up to the drinks fountain, press the switch that cascades ice cubes into the glass up to its neck, then the leftover they’d fill with Sprite or Dr Pepper or Coke (I forget the other options). I would go look for a mini glass for the dips so that I could have my lemonade neat and in a size I could stomach.
Wings of wisdom
But at the meal table, life was about tough choices as I was off what Americans call meat — beef and pork. Once having exhausted all chicken options on the menu, I sought help from the hostess. She suggested Buffalo Wings. “Buffalo meat?” I cringed. “Nah, it’s chicken.” I wasn’t sure. “She could be right. Buffaloes don’t have wings, chickens do,” a member of my team wondered. “But why should they call buffalo chicken?” I was adamant. It ended in me opting for just a broccoli cheese soup. It’s a different matter that later when I’d travel to Niagara Falls, I would pass through a town called Buffalo. The city, I gathered, claimed credit for the dish, hence the name for what is actually an American institution.
The most interesting part of the programme allowed us to stay with American families. Which meant learning how to switch from Indian standard time to clock time, rinsing our dishes and putting them in the dish-washer and learning how to say “yall”. That is Southern for “you all”. Despite severe attempts, I failed to pick up the drawl.
At Tupelo, our first stop was the house where Elvis Presley was born. The second stop was a nature park where the billed attraction was buffaloes. On a $10 ticket each, we were put in a bus that took us to an open-air enclosure around which fodder was placed. And soon the beasts gathered around us in hordes. “Wow, dad, isn’t he huge?” an American boy gushed to his father. Do Calcutta kids say that when buffaloes amble about on Chitpur-Burrabazar streets?
The park also had an old Royal Bengal Tiger. He was royalty as tiger is the mascot for the local basketball team, Memphis Tigers. Eyebrows were raised when I pointed out that the beast came from our land. Most of what they use is Made in China, so the Made in Bengal tag must have sounded very foreign.
First World opulence and opportunities also left us awe-struck. In a school that we visited in Amory, a little town of 7,000 (it would qualify as a village had it not had such superb facilities), a reading class was in progress. Kids were reading not from textbooks but from computers. The teacher explained that they were reading a news report. What popped our eyes was that the software was such that the student could adjust the language level on the basis of his comprehension ability. Even then if he got stuck at a word, the software explained the meaning at a mouse click. And all our student life, we had to lug that big fat dictionary to the table!
Sound of silence
At night, a round metallic device at the bedside caught our eye. “Is it a clock? Is it a mosquito repellent?” we wondered, till our hostess, hearing our debate, enlightened us with a smile: “No, it’s a noise-maker.”
Well, in the Mississippi, things are so quiet at night, some people find it difficult to sleep. So they spend dollars on this device which produces a droning sound to break the monotony of silence! “Will someone give us a silence-maker, please, to take home?” the Calcuttan in me groaned.
Minus the ice in the water, life is good over there. The next time I edit a burglary report for my paper, I’ll remember how my hostess in Amory Robin Christensen left the house key taped to the front door when she had to leave and I was to return early. I had even bargained for a handsome property on sale in recession-hit Memphis. “Did you say, $5,000? That’s not bad!” my eyes had lit up. “Err, $50,000,” my informer repeated. The extra zero made sure I flew back to Calcutta, double-quick.
P.S: After reading a report on the Bengal elections in The New York Times, one of my American hosts, freshly enthused about all things Bengal, has written asking if I am related to Mamata Banerjee since our surnames match. I have yet to send a reply.
A Calcuttan without guidance can cut an uneasy figure in America. First, she would lose her voice. Then, if she were non-Christian and a believer, she would be in peril of losing her faith at the meal table. Then of course would be the myriad stumbling blocks that the ways of a developed country can pose to one from a land of have-some-but-not-much.
Even after so much globalisation and familiarity, there is a lot that I faced, fought and gaped at during a two-month trip to dollardom. The journey was occasioned by my selection in a Rotary Foundation-sponsored cultural exchange programme between our local Rotary district 3291 and its counterpart on the Mississippi banks, district 6800.
Before leaving, we were put through numerous orientation sessions. But nobody told us about the piles of ice they put in their water. The first meal I had ordered was a soup at Thank God It’s Friday, a fine establishment that operated on the ground floor of the Memphis hotel we were put up in. The soup was scalding. So I asked for water. They gave me a huge glass of ice. “Excuse me,” I beckoned the big African-American hostess with her hair tied up in minuscule knots and partially dyed golden. “Can I have some water, please?” “That’s waatr on your taible, honey,” she pointed at the ice tub. “I mean, some water without ice?” Seconds of stunned incomprehension followed. “You waant your waatr without ayice?” She was looking at a specimen from Mars and I was ready to dig a hole deep enough to take me back home.
After a week or so, I got the hang of it. They pay for their drink, get a huge glass, walk up to the drinks fountain, press the switch that cascades ice cubes into the glass up to its neck, then the leftover they’d fill with Sprite or Dr Pepper or Coke (I forget the other options). I would go look for a mini glass for the dips so that I could have my lemonade neat and in a size I could stomach.
Wings of wisdom
But at the meal table, life was about tough choices as I was off what Americans call meat — beef and pork. Once having exhausted all chicken options on the menu, I sought help from the hostess. She suggested Buffalo Wings. “Buffalo meat?” I cringed. “Nah, it’s chicken.” I wasn’t sure. “She could be right. Buffaloes don’t have wings, chickens do,” a member of my team wondered. “But why should they call buffalo chicken?” I was adamant. It ended in me opting for just a broccoli cheese soup. It’s a different matter that later when I’d travel to Niagara Falls, I would pass through a town called Buffalo. The city, I gathered, claimed credit for the dish, hence the name for what is actually an American institution.
The most interesting part of the programme allowed us to stay with American families. Which meant learning how to switch from Indian standard time to clock time, rinsing our dishes and putting them in the dish-washer and learning how to say “yall”. That is Southern for “you all”. Despite severe attempts, I failed to pick up the drawl.
At Tupelo, our first stop was the house where Elvis Presley was born. The second stop was a nature park where the billed attraction was buffaloes. On a $10 ticket each, we were put in a bus that took us to an open-air enclosure around which fodder was placed. And soon the beasts gathered around us in hordes. “Wow, dad, isn’t he huge?” an American boy gushed to his father. Do Calcutta kids say that when buffaloes amble about on Chitpur-Burrabazar streets?
The park also had an old Royal Bengal Tiger. He was royalty as tiger is the mascot for the local basketball team, Memphis Tigers. Eyebrows were raised when I pointed out that the beast came from our land. Most of what they use is Made in China, so the Made in Bengal tag must have sounded very foreign.
First World opulence and opportunities also left us awe-struck. In a school that we visited in Amory, a little town of 7,000 (it would qualify as a village had it not had such superb facilities), a reading class was in progress. Kids were reading not from textbooks but from computers. The teacher explained that they were reading a news report. What popped our eyes was that the software was such that the student could adjust the language level on the basis of his comprehension ability. Even then if he got stuck at a word, the software explained the meaning at a mouse click. And all our student life, we had to lug that big fat dictionary to the table!
Sound of silence
At night, a round metallic device at the bedside caught our eye. “Is it a clock? Is it a mosquito repellent?” we wondered, till our hostess, hearing our debate, enlightened us with a smile: “No, it’s a noise-maker.”
Well, in the Mississippi, things are so quiet at night, some people find it difficult to sleep. So they spend dollars on this device which produces a droning sound to break the monotony of silence! “Will someone give us a silence-maker, please, to take home?” the Calcuttan in me groaned.
Minus the ice in the water, life is good over there. The next time I edit a burglary report for my paper, I’ll remember how my hostess in Amory Robin Christensen left the house key taped to the front door when she had to leave and I was to return early. I had even bargained for a handsome property on sale in recession-hit Memphis. “Did you say, $5,000? That’s not bad!” my eyes had lit up. “Err, $50,000,” my informer repeated. The extra zero made sure I flew back to Calcutta, double-quick.
P.S: After reading a report on the Bengal elections in The New York Times, one of my American hosts, freshly enthused about all things Bengal, has written asking if I am related to Mamata Banerjee since our surnames match. I have yet to send a reply.
Hello! goodbye!
Say Hello to Chetan Bhagat! The erstwhile IIT-IIM-ian, who has sold a lot of 100-rupee books, now wants to be Bollywood’s Stephen King and John Grisham rolled into one. Because Hello is not only an adaptation of Bha¬ gat’s “international bestseller” One Night @ The Call Center, but it also turns him into screen¬ play-and-dialogue writer.
No wonder, just like One Night..., his second book, the screen adaptation is lousy, over-simplified and melodramatic. Directed by the erstwhile actor Atul Agnihotri (remember Pooja Bhatt’s wooden lover in Sir?), who earlier made the weepy sleepy Dil Ne Jise Apna Kaha, Hello has such a dragging narrative that it doesn’t even deserve to be a daily soap on TV. Bhagat being the screenplay writer, the film hardly makes any changes to the book. The plot points are ditto. Same for the flashback points. Only it starts off and ends differently, with the person listening to the story being Salman Khan, as the superstar. He promises the storyteller (Katrina Kaif, in the film’s other special appearance) that if she tells him the story he would make it into a film.
As if the story wasn’t lame enough, the way it’s told by Atul makes things worse. While building on the individual problems of the six call centre employees, he neglects the bigger picture completely. The underlying tension in the book, of call volumes from the US going down dramatically and the desperation for an incoming call, is just not there. So at the end, when six becomes 600 — not a single other call centre employee is shown prior to that! — the Rang De Basanti-like let’s-give-it-back-to-them rousing speech has very little effect.
What works to a large extent, primarily because of their performances, is the love story between Sharman Joshi and Gul Panag. She loves him but would rather marry the Lexus-driving NRI. He loves her but is seeing a chalti-firticartoon network to get over her. Also quite effective is the chemistry between Sharman and Sohail with their riotous one-liners. There’s a must- watch toilet scene, where they fall over each other at all the wrong places at the wrong times. But for those two pluses, there are millions of minuses. Ishaa Koppikar as the aspiring-model- gone-astray and Amrita Arora as the housewife- in-distress are terribly miscast. Dalip Tahil’s stage hangover continues as he plays the I-love- my-America boss way over the top. Add two noisy songs (Sajid-Wajid) in the middle somewhere. Even that could have been dealt with, but the telephone call from God — supposed to be the pièce de résistance — is so 80s Doordarshan, so frightfully old school, that there’s nothing left to savour or salvage.
For Salman fans, there’s good news and bad news. Yes, he takes off his shirt but he is there for just two songs and one scene, which is cut into three parts. Even that seems an overstay, given Salman’s drowsy indifference. But given the story, even if it’s Katrina narrating it to him, we can’t really blame the man. You would do well to follow suit and doze off.
As for Mr Bhagat, we hope God gives you a call and keeps you away from Rajkumar Hirani’s adaptation of that other marginally better book of yours. Otherwise you might just look like one of the 3 Idiots.
PRATIM D. GUPTA
No wonder, just like One Night..., his second book, the screen adaptation is lousy, over-simplified and melodramatic. Directed by the erstwhile actor Atul Agnihotri (remember Pooja Bhatt’s wooden lover in Sir?), who earlier made the weepy sleepy Dil Ne Jise Apna Kaha, Hello has such a dragging narrative that it doesn’t even deserve to be a daily soap on TV. Bhagat being the screenplay writer, the film hardly makes any changes to the book. The plot points are ditto. Same for the flashback points. Only it starts off and ends differently, with the person listening to the story being Salman Khan, as the superstar. He promises the storyteller (Katrina Kaif, in the film’s other special appearance) that if she tells him the story he would make it into a film.
As if the story wasn’t lame enough, the way it’s told by Atul makes things worse. While building on the individual problems of the six call centre employees, he neglects the bigger picture completely. The underlying tension in the book, of call volumes from the US going down dramatically and the desperation for an incoming call, is just not there. So at the end, when six becomes 600 — not a single other call centre employee is shown prior to that! — the Rang De Basanti-like let’s-give-it-back-to-them rousing speech has very little effect.
What works to a large extent, primarily because of their performances, is the love story between Sharman Joshi and Gul Panag. She loves him but would rather marry the Lexus-driving NRI. He loves her but is seeing a chalti-firticartoon network to get over her. Also quite effective is the chemistry between Sharman and Sohail with their riotous one-liners. There’s a must- watch toilet scene, where they fall over each other at all the wrong places at the wrong times. But for those two pluses, there are millions of minuses. Ishaa Koppikar as the aspiring-model- gone-astray and Amrita Arora as the housewife- in-distress are terribly miscast. Dalip Tahil’s stage hangover continues as he plays the I-love- my-America boss way over the top. Add two noisy songs (Sajid-Wajid) in the middle somewhere. Even that could have been dealt with, but the telephone call from God — supposed to be the pièce de résistance — is so 80s Doordarshan, so frightfully old school, that there’s nothing left to savour or salvage.
For Salman fans, there’s good news and bad news. Yes, he takes off his shirt but he is there for just two songs and one scene, which is cut into three parts. Even that seems an overstay, given Salman’s drowsy indifference. But given the story, even if it’s Katrina narrating it to him, we can’t really blame the man. You would do well to follow suit and doze off.
As for Mr Bhagat, we hope God gives you a call and keeps you away from Rajkumar Hirani’s adaptation of that other marginally better book of yours. Otherwise you might just look like one of the 3 Idiots.
PRATIM D. GUPTA
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