Panditji Bataye Na Byah Kab Hoye?

Bhojpuri films are in vogue these days. Staying in south delhi, where you need to cough up Rs 150 each time you want to catch a fillum, I hadn't quite realised that. Today, I had to go to Shahdara. And as always happens with my trips to east Delhi, I was transported to another world. Where there is an entire township underneath the two-kilometre flyover over the railway line. People live here, use punctured tyre tubes as swings, sit and sell khaini (tobacco) and then go and watch Bhojpuri movies in the evening. The world is a flat place, yes, and nowhere is it more obvious than in the complete Biharisation of the world. So most of the people living in Shahdara sport an accent straight from Laloo-land.
Anyway, as I was trudging along in that two-hour marathon auto journey, I came across some interesting film posters. Daroga babu, I love you was one of them (for the uninitiated, daroga refers to a cop). Another gem: Panditji bataye na byah kab hoi. The latter had Naghma, she of Saurav Ganguly fame, as one of the lead actors. Ravi Kisshen, who flopped miserably in Hindi films, is apparently minting money in Bhojpuri cinema and is the lead actor in Panditji...
On returning to office, I happened top go through the latest issue of Outlook. A story on Bhojpuri in the magazine made me feel as if Bollywood will soon be rechristened Bhojpuriwood. Aby's baby is acting in one. So is Hema Malini. Dileep Kumar is producing one. AB himself will do a guest appearance in another.
Remember how Sujit Kuamr, that flop Hindi film actor found his calling in Bhojpuri cinema? After having been the butt of hundreds of jokes all these years, perhaps, he will sit back now and have the last laugh.

The Story Unfolds

I must explain the alphanumeric term that's the title of my blog. I am a reporter with a newspaper and have the slightly unenviable task of bothering what to churn out for the eight columns and 52 cm of newsprint each day. Of course, I get paid for it, so I had better not crib.

On the other hand, let me think of some really exciting times I've had as a journo.
1. Interviewing Mallika Sherawat when she was a nobody: Well, actually I went to interview Himanshu Mallik, thr rather unfortunate hero of Khahwish who couldn't do much for his career despite kissing her 17 times in the movie. Judging by my slightly awkward manner, he realised I had not been at it for a very long time. Asked me how long I had been in the profession. Me being me, counted audibly on my fingers and said, "12 days". He didn't know what hit him. I mean the number of kisses in his movie was more than the number of days my short career had seen.
Ms Sherawat turned up, fashionably late, and asked me if i had seen the latest copy of Elle. Well, I hadn't so for my benefit she was carrying it. They have compared me with Bridgette Bardot she gushed. I tried to look suitably awe-struck. It was my first-time at a 5-star hotel, but I had a bad tummy. And I ended up having tea (which i don't ever have under normal circumstances) with them.
PS: What made my day was when Himanshu picked up the lemon slices which were wrapped in some kind of a net and thinking them to be cookies tried to nibble at them. ha Ha. So much so for professing the joys of having lemon tea.

2. My meetings with the company chairperson: Have always been eventful. The first time, I was asked to sit away from the chairperson because I had a cold. The assistants constantly pushed my chair back till I thought I was sharing space with the plaster in the wall behind.
The second time, I was asked to interview a man who was 228 years old. So I was asked how many spiritual personalities I had interviewed. For want of a better answer, i mumbled Rani Mukherjee. It didn't go down too well. I thanked my stars I hadn't blurted out Mallika Sherawat.
The third time, I was asked if I was able to understand the proceedings of the meeting. After I nodded, the chairperson thoughtfully proceeded to ask me if I was a communist. I looked bewildered.. Ummm...Excuse me? The assistant expalined: Coz u r wearing a red top. Is it any wonder then that the state of newspapers today is what it is?

3. Interviewing Barfani Baba: He's 228 or so he claims. Well, in all my innocence, I decided to believe him. And proceeded to ask him about his experiences of the 1857 revolt. May be I could beat Ketan Mehta and produce the real story of the Rising in double quick time with thuis guy's help. No reply. Sir, did you see Rani Laxmi Bai ever? No reply. Well, Mahatma Gandhi. Not quite. Where did you spend all these years? "Actually, the training that he acquired was at this virtual school in Tibet, you have to meditate hard to get there,'' explained an assistant.
Well, these are the top three. There are so many more that I can think of, but they will have to wait for another day. Perhaps that's when I shall regale you with stories of going to Durgapuri (believe me it's in Delhi) and trying to watch out for tigers at Ranthambhore with a toothless and weaponless guard, or taking a tonga ride to the station, or being handed a two-rupee coin by a photographer to use the sulabh shauchalaya at Bharatpur. Aren't you jealous already?

Chapter 1

As I take my first tentative steps into the blogging world, I am reminded of Bappi Lahiri's daughter Reema Lahiri. Her debut album Little Star was released sometime in the 80s. It was one of the first cassettes I possessed as a kid. And proud papa Lahiri introduced his daughter lovingly and said, "Sangeet ki duniya main ushka poila kadam...Aapka aashirwad dein...'' People did showers their blessings by the bucketful one assumes because Reema went on to sing beautiful songs like Old Mac Donald had a farm eeya eeya o, o ho ho, o ho ho, o eeya eeya o. And displayed a lot of humility by screaming I am a Little Star, little star, Main hoon little star... Oh and one more: Garmiyon ki chuttiyon main ghoomne ko jaayenge, papa ne promise kiya, kashmir woh dikhayenge, pa pa pa, pa pa pa.

I hope I get the requisite aashirwad from you people and I certainly hope my blogging career lasts slightly longer than her singing career did.

PS: Did you know she has brother too? He's called Bappa Lahiri and trust me he's definitely a chip of the old block. Also, Reema happens to be Bollywood queen Rani Mukherjee's childhood friend and got married last year to some firang Bong. She's not little anymore though. Twice my size and I am 80 kg.