Anusha Rizvi proves that spoof can be a powerful tool of social awakening.
By Laxmi Murthy
‘Just like a documentary, so realistic!’ remarks one of my aunts as we stream out of the theatre, the haunting background score of ‘Peepli [Live]’ still resounding in our ears. ‘Excellent film, but what’s the use,’ says the other aunt, ‘We will simply go back and discuss it in our drawing rooms’. ‘But at least we will do that – now we will talk about farmers’ suicide,’ is the conclusion. (more…)
A fake bin Laden provides some laughs along with a sharp comment on the “war on terror”, the media, and US policy on Afghanistan.
By Laxmi Murthy
A spoof about the US ‘war on terror’, the Pakistani desperation to emigrate and a satirical take on the media’s obsession with ‘Breaking News’ could go badly wrong in hands that excel in slapstick or melodrama. But right from the disclaimer about resemblance to any person living or dead being purely ‘coincidental’, director Abhishek Sharma pulls it off, tongue firmly in cheek. The pun in the title which could be read as ‘Without you, Laden’, or ‘Your bin Laden’. Onward, smart acting and witty dialogues effortlessly steer the film through potential minefields, quite literally. (more…)
top of the world/bottom of the list
Kathmandu is one of the least liveable cities in the world, according to the just-released Economist Intelligence Unit’s latest ranking. Cities in Canada and Australia hog the top ten spots, with Vienna and Helsinki elbowing their way into the elite few. Stability, healthcare, culture and environment, education and infrastructure are ranked, but cost of living is not. Who, really, can afford to live in these ‘liveable’ cities, where no doubt, real estate prices will have further reason to skyrocket following the publication of rankings such as these. And of course, what is not ranked is how dull and boring these liveable cities might be, how lacking in spice.
The “greatest” cities, London (54th position), and New York in (56th) do badly on the EIU ranking, pulled down by their “stability” factor (or lack thereof). With fear and insecurity amongst the citizenry on a high, the vibrancy and appeal of these legendary metropolises don’t stand a chance. And Mumbai, whose fantasy status in most Southasian hearts is unchallenged to date, is ranked 117. If livability was put at premium, would Mohammad Rafi have crooned the immortal “Aye dil hai mushkil jeena yahan Zara hat ke zara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan”. (gist being: Bombay is tough, man, but it’s my heart!).
A staunch Delhi-phobe, I wonder how it is that a wretched city like Delhi has not been relegated to the bottom of list, as the least liveable of cities? It has scored comparatively higher than it’s counterparts in Southasia, at 113, better than Colombo (132), Kathmandu (133), Karachi (135), and Dhaka (138). The only reason Kabul is not amongst the bottom 10 is that Afghanistan, like Iraq was not deemed fit to even rank.
While most Southasian cities are written off as notorious unliveable hell-holes, I must offer a defence of Rank No.133. And here are just some of the reasons:
The list can go on. Suffice it to say, “Kathmandu meri jaan”.
| FROM THE ARCHIVE: Our October 2008 double issue on Cities | ||
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 ‘Golden cities, golden towns’ by Madhusree Dutta Is a megalopolis such as Bombay defined by its neighbourhoods, or is it the other way around |
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 ‘The Valley’s relentless growth’ by Kabita Parajuli Struggling under poor-to-nonexistent urban planning, while massive numbers of Nepalis continue to descend on it, and hemmed in by the valley rim – what will happen to Kathmandu Valley? |
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 ‘The pampered Islamabadites’ by Raza Rumi Despite regular criticism of its detachment from the rest of the country, Pakistan’s planned capital is fast turning into a metropolis. |
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 ‘Is there war in your ur?’ by S Sumathy Jaffna remains in the hearts of many, whatever remains of the city and peninsula itself. |
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–Laxmi Murthy
The winter is slowly deepening. As the misty mornings get nippier and nights arrive soon after you have wound up lunch, there is another noticeable phenomenon in Kathmandu. Cleavages go under cover. No, not the ones on top generally to be seen on the female of the species. The other ones, on the posterior, the universal cleavages. Both men and women, (all young, mind you), sport butt cleavage exposing, or, in other words, low-rise jeans through the year. Belts in this scheme of things, are not utilised to hitch up recalcitrant pants, but as accessories meant to accentuate the cleavages they help reveal.
The Nepali frame (at risk of making communal statements, and at great risk of unifying the Limbu, Rai, Newari, Sherpa, Tamang and Gurung ethnicities) seems eminently suitable to the showing of the derriere. Low slung jeans, one will be forgiven for assuming, was custom-made to this part of the world (and Korea, of course). Unlike the heavy-bottomed frame found south of the Vindhyas, the slim-hipped body is a perfect show-case for the ever-sliding garment. And having slipped, therein lies the true measure of élan: does the wearer desperately hitch it up, or nonchalantly let it lie, exposing undergarments (of varying griminess, laciness or thong-ness, as the case may be). But come winter, and jackets and pullovers, no less a statement of style, cover up the nether regions, quite literally. No more alluring glimpses of derrieres peeking out of waist bands trotting down the streets; in supermarkets reaching for the hair oil on the top shelf; on courier delivery men who lurk around offices in their helmets (the disguise is useful protection against routine insults about mysteriously vanished parcels); hanging out of micro buses (the lowest of low rise jeans are the uniform of microbus assistants, whose job it is dangerously dangle out the door and hustle passengers, and sometimes innocent passersby who happen to be near the door).
Cleavages of all kinds are undoubtedly tantalising, the “what lies beneath” being the subject of romantic fantasy and lewd speculation. But butt cleavages are, one learns, not mere raunch. They are a political statement, no less. “Saggin’ pants”, so named because of pants that, well…sag, low enough to reveal underwear, a norm in prisons in the West where belts are not allowed due to potential violence towards others or oneself, including the threat of suicide. Prison-style meshes well with counter-culture, with low-rise pants allowing the display of, not only varying amounts of underwear, but also tattoos, piercings and the like.
Going back to the heavy-bottomed youth South of the Vindhyas – how do they express their rebellion, or in this case, their butt cleavages? Certainly, would not the balmy climes be more conducive to such display? And undoubtedly, permitting an ample belly to sag comfortably over the waist of low rise pants is way preferable to the button of normal jeans digging into one’s middle. The more common body-type down under is curvaceous, lending itself to drapes – saris and dhotis- that can be equally revealing, but are conveniently adjustable, unlike low-rise jeans that would demand punishing diets and exercise regimens from generous-hipped and rounded-thighed but fashion-conscious youth. Unless trendy pants are designed for these bodies (akin to the designer lines custom built for African-American females, which incidentally, are a perfect fit for narrow-waisted, big hipped individuals), cleavage-revelations will have to be conducted from behind georgette saris.
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