In Conversation With Nasreen Munni Kabir (Channel 6, April Issue)

Even while living in London, you have kept your umbilical cord with India uncut by choosing to work with Indian cinema. Was it a conscious effort?

Most immigrants settled abroad, whether from India or any other country, are connected to their homeland through food, religious practice and language — it isn’t surprising that such a connection is there and unchanging. We might live 500 years abroad but we’re not white. We will always be asked: “Where are you from — originally?”

Like many others, I grew up watching films, and Indian films too. I wanted to work in cinema so combining the idea of home with a leaning to study and become a practitioner in films was exciting.

While filming, what is your perspective – of an NRI/outsider or someone closer home who is trying hard to give a piece of home to a whole lot of them?

Believe me when I started in 1978, Hindi films were not considered “cool” at all. The whole story changed in the early 1990s; I think through the popularity of film music and the arrival of the Khans — young people began to think of Indian cinema as something they were proud of. Before that, many middle class families looked down on Hindi films.

Once you know a subject well, you become an insider; at least you hope to be be considered as such. Outsiders usually study a subject in greater detail because they don’t take anything for granted as an insider might. I have been working on Hindi cinema for 32 years, starting in the late 1970s — organised huge Indian film festivals in Paris, programmed (and still do) Indian films on British TV, made over 80 documentaries and written nine books on the subject — so I hope the question of insider/outsider doesn’t arise anymore. The most important thing for me is having had the privilege of meeting so many wonderful people working in Indian films.

Your affinity to a certain era of Hindi cinema is apparent. Does that mean you believe that the quality of today’s cinema has gone down so much so that it is not worth studying or documenting?

You can’t study every period if you study cinema seriously. You just don’t have the time to go so deeply. If you do everything, you’d be a generalist and I prefer specialising. I really like the 1950s, and actually if I know anyone’s work really well it is only Guru Dutt. I’ve spent over ten years researching his life. It involved talking to people who knew him and thinking about his work and his approach to cinema. I am still learning about the 1950s.

Every period has their history-makers. And some top names today will impact the future. It’s not only the past that endures the test of time; each generation has a place in history.I hope this generation of filmmakers are documented too. I don’t see any great evidence of that. There are hundreds of TV interviews with actors and directors of today, but I doubt if these interviews have lasting value or give great insight.

Technology has made it possible to capture historical developments inexpensively. Yet there is no serious chronicling of cinema that happens these days. Most people indulge in frivolous conversations. Why do you think this situation has come about?

TV is a big monster that needs feeding; and quickly. It is hungry 24/7. When you do things fast, how can they be deep and thought-through? There isn’t the time to reflect. We also favour a culture of the “here and now” and chat shows satisfy that need. Do audiences like serious interviews? I think so, but do the TV channels think so? The big hiccup is that chat shows aren’t archival material — how many times can you see the same episode of a gushing presenter talking to a star, who often says the same things? Just about once. Archival value means something else.

You have often expressed the opinion that, as an art, cinema is not judged on the same plane of, say, theatre. Yet it is the most sought after and influential medium we can think of, especially in India. Isn’t there an irony there?

Yes, there is irony in that. But most-after things aren’t often considered art. Soaps may get high TRPs, but are they art?

Cinema is the greatest art form of our times and is recognised as such in the West. It combines art, music, theatre, literature, photography, performance, choreography — and has developed its own language to tell stories. But often for an art form to be recognised as an art form, people need to write about it. And that process has already begun — since the past ten years, there are more and more books written about Indian cinema.

Things have changed since you started your career. On one side, celebrities have been overexposed through the media flood. And on the other, access to them has becomes difficult. What have been your recent experiences?

Yes, access is more difficult because celebrities just don’t have a minute to breathe. But they give me time when they can, because they seem to like my work. My documentaries and books have done well like the book on Lata Mangeshkar or the documentary on Shah Rukh Khan which was called The Inner/Outer World of SRK.

Personal relationships mattered more in earlier times and it’s true of all professions. If you blog or tweet it doesn’t mean you’re a friend. Tweets to me are like weather bulletins — how am I feeling right now? With emphasis on the “I.” Not the “we.”

But we live in hugely complex times and to be noticed in the crowded market-place, perhaps you have to be a narcissist. I think today even Superman would not revert to being ordinary Clark Kent.

A little bit about your upcoming project with A R Rahman?

It’s a book of conversations. We’ve just started. Too early to explain its shape. But A R Rahman is a solidly genuine person and working with him is knowing that great artists can firmly have the ground under their feet.

The Irony Of Being A Girl

Most Indians believe that a man’s life is immensely blessed if two women come into his life - Goddesses Lakshmi and Saraswathi. After all, what more can you ask for than education and prosperity? But then, we also kill our girl children, if possible in the womb itself. Clearly, we are a country of cultural contradictions.

Achi is pregnant for the eleventh time and is a mother of seven girls. The rest of the girls have passed away thanks to lack of resources of the family. The one and only wish of her life is to deliver a baby boy, although by the looks of it, she is not in a state of health to go through such a demanding experience for the umpteenth time. She is confident while declaring that if her eleventh child turns out to be a girl, she will either kill it or sell it.

Out of the two tribal communities that are prevalent in Nalgonda district of Andhra Pradesh – the Chenchus and the Lambadas – the latter is a more enterprising bunch whose roots can be traced back to Rajasthan. They live in communes by the name Thanda and the one that Achi belongs to is called Katrawath.

Achi’s husband is indifferent about the whole issue. He seems to completely have submitted it to his wife to take the decision she wants. He disagrees with Achi when she says that their eldest daughter is 22. How she can be 22 while he himself is just 32, he asks. Going by the fact that the daughter in question herself is pregnant and looked old enough to be 22, the man could hardly be believed.

Dressed in elaborate Rajasthani costumes adorned with white plastic bangles running through the length of their hands, the older women of the community also care less. It is most likely that they too subscribe to Achi’s philosophy. Because of the lighter tone of their skin, a lot of Lambada women have been forced into flesh trade as well.

A couple of government paid social workers do try their best in spreading awareness. Shailu, an ASHA worker and a member of the community herself, tried to tell Achi how her girls could reach heights just like boys and that killing them is not the solution for anything. Achi snapped back asking her to provide for their upbringing and later for their dowry. Another Lambada woman Redi Bai, who is pursuing graduation through Open University and working in the Thanda anganwadi, also tried her level best to convince Achi that educating her girls was the answer to her problems; but in vain.

Not just that Achi is not apologetic about it, she thinks female infanticide is justified given the poor living conditions she has to deal with, day in and day out. That is the striking aspect of the rural parts of our country, where ironically half of the deities are female.

MRP – The Meaning And The Myth

Shopping for house supplies has never been such a ‘surprising experience’ before as it is in current times. Some super markets sell sunflower oil at half the amount of MRP and some celebrate ‘our price’ of 49.99 for a detergent packet worth Rs.50! The irony is that most of us, when at the local kirana shop or a street vendor shop, also will not mind if the shopkeeper asks for an extra rupee or two on MRP. ‘Poor fellow,’ we think.

Maximum Retail Price is by no means an unfamiliar term; even to a consumer who is just about average in awareness. But does that mean that all consumers understand what those words mean?

Of course, it is the maximum amount that a retailer should charge us for a packaged commodity. What most of us do not know is that we almost always pay much more than the cost of the product and a respectable margin put together, even when paying just the MRP.

So where is the glitch? From a layman’s point of view, it is because the manufacturer has the right to decide the price of his/her product. Government does not interfere in this process, and it is up to the consumer whether to buy a product at a particular price. This is why the fancy ‘Hang Out’ packs of Lays available mostly in theatres and malls cost Rs.15, but gives you almost the same quantity as a Rs.10 pack. Manufacturers simply customise the packaging for malls and put a higher price tag.

However, Prof. Vamsi Vakulabharanam from Department of Economics at University Hyderabad says: “As long as there is a competitive structure and private enterprising, it is alright if manufacturers set the price. It is actually the market which is mediating between the consumers and them. The market acts as a disciplining institution whereby prices are brought down to a minimum and hence there is no need for government intervention.”

May be, we should rewind a little bit to understand how this fancy price tag brouhaha came about. Until December 1990, Indian manufacturers had two options while printing prices on packaged commodities: Retail Price (local taxes extra) and Maximum Retail Price (inclusive of all taxes). However, when consumers flooded courts with complaints alleging that retailers were going haywire in charging the ‘local taxes,’ the Ministry of Civil Supplies and its executive wing - Department of Legal Metrology - decided to pull the plug. They amended the Standards of Weights and Measures Act 1976 making it mandatory for manufacturers to print the MRP that is inclusive of all taxes. If you still see packages with ‘Local Taxes Extra’ printed, they are indeed illegal.

Unfortunately, things are still not hunky dory. Local charges still vary from place to place. Since the manufacturer cannot mark the price of a commodity differentially, they build in the highest required margin into their products. This means that retailers, in places where local taxes are less, can either choose to make consumers pay the printed price or work with a lower profit margin and pass the benefit of lower local taxes by selling at prices lower than the printed price. This is one of the reasons why a lot of commodities are sold at prices less than MRP. Another, of course, is that the manufacturers themselves mark up the MRP considerably and ‘do consumers a favour’ by selling it at sometimes even half the price! This is a very common trend with many oil brands these days.

Interestingly, there are some opinions on the Internet that dig out the loopholes in the law that governs MRP. According to S K Ananda Thirtha, a member of the Mysore Grahakara Parishat, there are several Supreme Court orders which say that ‘Rules’ cannot extend the boundaries of the ‘Act’ under which they have been made (eg. Bharathidasan University v/s All India Council for Technical Education, (2001) 8 SCC 767). As of now, the Standards of Weights and Measures Act 1976 only mandates that MRP be printed on the package. However, the ‘Rules’ part of this Act (Standards of Weights and Measures – Packaged Commodities - Rules 1977) crosses the boundaries of the Act by stipulating that price charged cannot exceed the printed MRP. According to Thirtha, therefore, this part of the Rules is invalid making not printing MRP punishable, but not selling above MRP.

Then, is MRP just a fiction? Well, may be not. It appears that most consumer courts, probably unaware of the Supreme Court decisions, keep rewarding compensation against merchants who sell packaged commodities in excess of MRP. Thirtha believes that this is a case of a badly drafted law and its incorrect interpretation providing justice. In short, two wrongs making a right! Of course, the right way is to rectify the law.

However, even the Legal Metrology Bill 2008 which replaced the Standards of Weights and Measures Act 1976 does not contain any provision prohibiting of charging a price higher than the printed price.

So are restaurateurs using this loophole while charging more than MRP on bottled water and cool drinks? No! Another Supreme Court order (State of Himachal Pradesh v/s Associated Hotels of India, AIR 1972 SC 1131), which clarified that MRP is applicable only to retail sales (goods sold in shops), is the ‘culprit’ of food lovers. It is permissible to charge extra in hotels, restaurants and aeroplanes because what they are offering is a service. The ambience and the cooling level at which the drink is offered become part of that service and justifies the prerogative to charge what they want.

On the other hand, home delivery service cannot be interpreted on the same lines. In a case filed by Ankit Jain, who was charged Rs.35 for a 500ml Coke bottle (MRP Rs.15) that he had bought with burgers from Nirula’s in New Delhi, the apex consumer court held that home delivery service cannot be construed as a sale in restaurant where added services are offered.

So the next time you get you pizza delivered, check what you have been charged for the accompanying drink. While India’s law fraternity takes its time to rectify its Acts and Rules and what not, we should bask in the glory of their ignorance and demand for MRP, at least!

In Conversation With Jahnu Barua

What made you shift base from Assam to Mumbai and from Assamese cinema to Hindi cinema?

I have always had a lot of offers from Mumbai to make movies in Hindi. But I took time to decide. The obvious reason is that there are much better opportunities there and I do not have to face many constraints as with Assamese cinema. As an artist, you always want to reach out to a wider audience.

Do you miss home?

Not really. Mainly because home is where I am. My family is with me always. Plus I can go back anytime I want. There is nothing tying me down, so there is no forced feeling. In fact, I am keen on working on Assamese cinema from Mumbai.

What about the feeling of being an outsider in Mumbai?

All this goes on inside you. If you choose to think of yourself as an outsider, you become one. I am at home in Mumbai. I don’t know about what others think of me though. May be, they do look at me as an outsider!

You worked with mainstream Hindi film actors like Urmila Matondkar, Preity Zinta and Dharmendra in your recent films. How different or difficult has this experience been compared to earlier days of working with Assamese artists?

Frankly speaking, I hardly found any difference. It is mainly because the moment I don the director’s hat, I am who I am supposed to be whether to Urmila or an Assamese artist. I never let artists take advantage of their star status on my sets. If they come late, I sternly tell them not to repeat it. But surprisingly, both the girls – Urmila and Preity – were very professional in their approach during Maine Gandhi Ko Nahin Mara and Har Pall.

You have won multiple awards for your work. How important are they for an artist? How instrumental have they been in your career?

They are important, but not to the extent that you make films just for winning awards. At the end of the day, you make films for an audience, not a jury. Awards are just tokens of appreciation, a bonus. They have helped me no doubt, and instil a level of responsibility to do better work.

You have been on the jury for National Awards and have won quite a few too. What is your take on the recent controversy of 2008 awards being rigged?

The process, as it is, is very democratic. But it depends on the jury that is appointed every year. We are all subjective at one level or the other.

Who are the Indian filmmakers who have influenced you the most?

None. It is one of the first lessons taught at FTII, not to be influenced by anybody. I have favourites, of course, and that includes Satyajit Ray, Ritwik Ghatak, Adoor Gopalakrishnan and Bimal Roy.

In Memory Of A Master

For a nation that is so doped on cinema as we are, we live too much in the present; often forgetting the glory of our past. A week long celebration held in Hyderabad to mark the centenary year of Bimal Roy, one of the finest filmmakers India has ever had, did a precious lot in reminding the city of this movie master.

Organised by the Bimal Roy Centenary Committee in collaboration with Moving Images, Hyderabad, from January 26 to February 1, the event presented an interesting concoction of slices from Bimal Roy’s work and life. It began with the screening of a short film Bimal Roy doesn’t live here anymore and unveiling of Reflections – on cities and spaces, an exhibition of rare architectural photographs shot by Bimalda, at Kalakriti Art Gallery. “The photographs were shot during my father's extensive travels where he captured structures, people and nature,” says Aparajita Roy Sinha, his daughter and convenor-founding member of Moving Images.

World of Bimal Roy, another exhibition of rare photographs from his life, some of them captured by his wife Manobina Roy, was on display on the first floor of Prasad’s Imax from January 27 to 31. The photographs were shipped from Kolkata exclusively for this event.

That music was part of Bimalda’s cinematic narrative as much as the story, is something that his admirers would vouch for. The innovations he tried to bring on screen while picturising some of the best melodies that S D Burman or Salil Chowdhury have composed were pathbreaking (remember the first ever telephonic love song of India ‘Jalte hain jiskeliye’ from Sujata?). So it was only befitting that the centenary committee honoured veteran singer Manna Dey and actor Jagdeep at a glitzy ceremony at The Marriott on January 28, which the city’s cream de la cream attended. The ‘90 years young’ singer also gave a live performance along with Geeta Varma which left listeners awestruck.

Bimal Roy Retrospective, a film festival that featured nine masterpieces of the director, was of course the highlight of the celebrations. Do Bikha Zameen, Bandini, Sujata, Devdas, Parineeta, Madhumati, Parakh, Yahudi and Udayer Pathey (Bengali, Bimalda’s first film) were screened at Prasad’s Imax and Cinemax from January 29 to 31. Remembering Bimal Roy, a documentary directed by his son Joy Roy was also screened as part of the festival. It gave a fantastic peek into the life of a man who, according to Manobina Roy, believed only in one ‘ism’ – humanism! “It was a spiritual journey for me to find a link to my father whom I hardly knew. While filming it, I discovered how much people loved and respected him,” says Joy Roy.

The first few shows of the festival had half filled audis. However, the houseful shows towards the end made it clear that Hyderabadis gave a lot of mouth publicity to the event. At the screening of the closing film Sujata, Bimal Roy’s daughter and documentary film maker Rinki Roy Bhattacharya commented to a gargantuan crowd, some even seated on the floor, that such a response was unimaginable in Mumbai where there were too many distractions.

The week long cinematic extravaganza ended on a sober note with a one day symposium on ‘Outsiders, Migrants and the Indian Middle Class in Bimal Roy’s films’ held at University of Hyderabad. Jahnu Barua, the national award winning Assamese filmmaker, Suresh Chabbria, the renowned film historian from FTII, Pune, and Maithili Rao, the noted film critic, were the speakers at the symposium organised in collaboration with the UGC SAP on Visual Culture by Sarojini Naidu School of Arts and Communication.

Passionately For Pina

It was wild and mystical at the same time. It also magically encapsulated the passion of the artist the performance was dedicated for. For Pina…, a performance in homage to the German choreographer Pina Bausch, was put together by the Bangalore-based Attakkalari Centre for Movement Arts (ACMA) on February 2 at Qutb Shahi Tombs. Pina, one of the biggest names in the global contemporary dance scene, had succumbed to cancer in June 2009.

Department of Tourism, Archaeology and Museums, Government of Andhra Pradesh, collaborated with Goethe-Zentrum Hyderabad in organising this site-specific promenade performance. This means that while the performers moved around utilising the space of the magnificient heritage site, in a choreography that was not confined to a stage, the audience shifted with them too.

Jayachandran Palazhy, trained at Kalakshetra, Chennai, and the London Contemporary Dance School, choreographed the performance. The theme was man-woman relationship in a contemporary context, a favourite of Pina too. Jay, also the founder of ACMA, had worked with her when she toured India.

Jay’s team of dancers, who oozed energy in every sense of the word, was a delight to watch. Like possessed spirits unconscious of their bodies, they soared far and wide. Draped in sensuous red, they illustrated perfectly how a performance that comes from the depths of artistes’ hearts can invigorate the souls of even those who are not trained in art.

The sound technology put to use was out of the world. Hyderabad has probably not seen before speakers shaped like dolphin, snail, horse and what not! Live Electronics specialists Lorenzo Brusci and Luca Cnciella created a surreal environment with their compositions and fancy gadgets. A video installation designed by Chris Zeigler formed the perfect background for the act. Particularly, the effects for the part where Jay enacted drowning were breathtaking.

The event, which was inaugurated by Information and Public Relations Minister Dr. J Geetha Reddy, also had Jayesh Ranjan IAS and Padmasri Dr. Ananda Shankar Jayant as Guests of Honour. Ananda also introduced the troupe and the act to a limited but keen audience. The performance was followed by the screening of a documentary on Pina Bausch.

It's Numaish Time, Folks!

Malls and multiplexes may have taken Hyderabad by storm. But gargantuan crowds still flock to the Nampally Maidan annually in January – February to participate in the old world charm that it hosts. That is the magic of the mela that Hyderabadis fondly call Numaish.

In its 69^th year now, the all India industrial exhibition is as much a part of Hyderabadi culture now as Biriyani. One that started with just 50 stalls in 1938, the ‘Numaish Masnuaat-e-Mulki’ has sure grown beyond the wildest dreams of its founder, Mir Osman Ali Khan, the seventh Nizam. This year, there are close to 2500 stalls with participation from our neighbouring countries as well. However, Pakistan, one of the most frequent participants, is missing in action.

The exhibition has a plethora of choices for shoppers. There are dedicated sections for anything you can think of - Bengal cotton sarees to Kashmiri Pashmina shawls, dry fruits to electronics, leather goods to ceramic ware – with a minimum of ten to fifteen stalls in each one. In case you run out of cash in between the shopping spree, just pay a visit to the SBI ATM near the exit. Most Numaish shops still believe in taking paper money for their goods!

The mini-train that takes riders for a journey through the exhibition ground attracts kids and elders alike. There are other joy rides like giant wheel as well. Multiple food courts, chaat bhandars, ice cream parlours and juice counters help you cool your heels when tired of walking at length.

Visitors form a diverse bunch here – some are regulars, some are first timers. All have a good outing for a cheap price though. The entry fee is just Rs. 10 per head. “This is my sixth time here. Though many of the products are available outside, this is like a one stop place for everything under the sun. They often give good bargains too,” says Geeta Rao, a resident of Hyderguda. The Exhibition Society uses the ticket income to support over 18 educational institutions in Hyderabad and surrounding districts thus reaching 35000 students.

Numaish is eagerly awaited by sellers as well. They travel from different parts of the country for four to six weeks of hardcore business. “This is the money spinning time of the year for us. Hyderabadis spend a lot here. It seems more like an emotional connect than a budget decision,” quips Alam Khan, a carpet seller from Kashmir. Many other sellers backed Alam’s opinion that the effect of recession has waned considerably.

The advantage of Numaish is, of course, bargain prices. Follow the mantra that ‘bolne ka daam’ is usually the double of ‘dene ka daam,’ and you are sure to land some good deals. Even if you intend only window shopping, there is every chance that you will fall prey to the sheer variety available. Give yourself an opportunity to do so. The deadline is February 15^th!