Mall (sans) culture

Shopping Mall  culture  is fast invading our lives , even in small cities and towns. The new locality  where we have shifted  some seven months back has mercifully no Mall . It may be more convenient  to  finds goods of daily need and use under one roof  and may also save  us  our  ‘valuable’  time  which each one of us  seems to have run out of   these days  due to hectic schedule and racy lifestyle,  but still I for one miss that personal  bond that existed between the  dealer/merchant/shopkeeper and the customer  in good old days.

I remember my childhood , when as kids,  for years we  went  to a particular barber for a haircut- and why not , as it was he who   would come to our home to give us a haircut when we were too young  to sit on a   high chair  in the shop  in front of a large  mirror  and  unable  to absorb the unfamiliar atmosphere of a  shop or a saloon.  He won’t   mind walking two kilometer  one way  on foot  when a haircut  fetched him  only   20-25 paise .  I still remember his name- Jhania Ram.

Similarly , Kammi  (Karam Chand ) was our family  tailor , till the time   we  grew up and  became fashion  and style conscious  to look for   ‘better’  choice or alternative .

Like wise, one Bhagwati Prasad  was our dhobi for many years  and my  father would endearingly  call him baretha , the meaning  of the word unknown to us  even today.    The grocer    and the sabziwala  would  gladly offer my father a seat inside the  small  shop  where  gup-shup  would go on for quite some time . I never saw  my father  haggling over price with any one.

Walking around in a shopping mall with a trolly  may satisfy our ego for a while, but  the pleasure of shopping  for    various goods  from   different  shops  was  immense. The personal bond  is  certainly missing in these shopping malls, however courteous the  attendants   may appear to be !

Retirement Blues !

More than a month into retirement  and I know not what to do now, with my physique  and mental faculties  all in tact. The philosopher in me prompts me to liken this phase to the  last Act of a drama ,which may  end soon or   stretch itself   even to 20-25 years. But last Act it is. It seems  thirty five years  of service have come to  naught  with no achievement to count or laurels to rest upon. Only I have been able to earn  sufficient  pension to  take care of my  financial needs . The words of the shayar  Akbar Allahabadi ring so true :

Kya kahen ahbaab  kya kar-e- numaya kar gaye

BA  padhe , naukar bane, pension mili  aur mar gaye !

Any suggestions please !

Meena Kumari

Born this day in 1932, Meena Kumari, the great  Bollywood actress of yore , due to penury and poverty   was forced to act as a child artiste at  the age of six. This also happened as a quirk of fate , as plain looking Mahazabeen Bano, as she was named then,  was not considered even worthy of  entering the film line, by her father .It was her mother who took her to some producer/ director  As luck would have it , her talent was spotted and her  career took off.She acted in many  well known films , like Miss Mary, Sahib Biwi aur Ghulam , Azaad , Kohinoor, Dil Apna aur Preet Parayi & many others ,  and last but not the least, Pakeezah which proved her swan song  but also immortalized her.All the songs of the film  became hits and were played all over .Perhaps this was the best that Kamal Amrohi , her separated  husband and also  Director of the film could have done for her.  Frustration and loneliness proved too much for her and she took to  drinking .It is no secret that while shooting for  Pakeezah, Meena Kumari ,  due to illness, was not able to speak and one  Sadhana Khote dubbed for her.   This hastened her end as she died in March 1973  at the relatively young age of forty.  If Dilip Kumar is the Tragedy King of  Hindi cinema, the crown for  Tragedy Queen would certainly go to Meena Kumari .

Romance with Music

My romance with music dates back to pre-school days in the late fifties when , my father brought home an assembled radio receiver set, run on electricity . I took to it as fish to water and in no time was able to switch on and off, tune in the stations on various bands i.e. ‘medium wave ’ and ‘short wave’  to listen to songs being played or broadcast . Sri Lanka or Radio Ceylon , as it was called then was the favourite ; from 7-30  AM  to 8 AM  old film songs were played and last song always  was  a K.L.Sehgal  song, as a tribute to the legendary  singer. Binaca Geet Mala  presented by the inimitable  Amin Sayani  was the rage. By the time I went to school, I was able to tell  Mukesh from Rafi  and  Lata from Asha   and vice versa.

In initial years when from School we were taken to see a  movie  or a ‘picture’ it was called then, I kept wondering  how the same actor could sing in different voices in  different songs. It was much later that I came to know about the playback system or “kiraye ki awaaz”  as  it was called in common colloquial language. Apart from the Radio, there was the gramophone on which records or ‘discs’ were played by manually turning a handle and frequently replacing the magnetic needle.  However this luxury was available to the rich few.

Radio receiver sets gave way to  portable transistor sets, run on  battery cells  and remained in vogue for pretty long.  Gramophone also came in power operated version without hassles of turning handle and replacing needles.

Then came cassette players, first audio  and then also the video version , on which full length movies could also be seen  at home by connecting the device to TV set. Sooner than later came   the computer and the  internet that   brought about a revolution of sorts . It was made possible to  download and store  a limitless collection of songs  to play at will. The You Tube  made it possible to play video clips at will. Now a days people carry music in their pockets  as song are stored in  mobile  phone sets.

The journey has so far been long  and interesting ; many surprises are in store  in future yet !

Rajesh Khanna aka Kaka

No larger than life persona was he made to portray , no superhuman feats was he made to  perform; he was just made to play the role of the man next door , not invincible but vulnerable ,given to emotions and weaknesses like you and me ,  one could easily identify with.That was Rajesh Khanna. In fact this ordinariness made him  extraordinary ,  endeared him to all  and made him a superstar.

In late seventies, he along with other crew members had come to Shimla to shoot for film ‘Kudrat’- a Chetan Anand movie. On a holiday, probably a Sunday, I rushed to Chhota Shimla, to a place where  shooting was going on . It was a shoot for  a scene from  dance-chorus number- Sawan Nahin Bhadon Nahin- with Rajesh Khanna and Priya Rajwansh  in the lead . Priya wore a red dress with makeup to match and Rajesh Khanna, in a combination suit with spotted yellow tie was his usual smartest self . Aruna Irani in Kameez salwar looked like a typical Punjabi Bebe  Dimple Khanna , all graceful was also there.

Priya Rajwansh   bade adieu long back- and now  Rajesh Khanna is also gone !

R.I.P !

Alvida, Mehdi Hassan Saheb !

In  the eighties ,when I was posted in a remote area of the state of Himachal Pradesh, the only source of entertainment  and socializing  was the periodic get-togethers   among  officers and  a few local people , who relished the company  and reciprocated the hospitality. One of the local people was O.P, a man of taste and a fairly good singer. Naturally, all would coax him into singing a song or two to enliven the atmosphere . His pet piece of singing was, Mehdi Hassan’s  “Duniya kisi ke pyar mein  phoolon se kam nahin…..” which even  in his voice held us spell bound. . Later  I   bought an audio cassette  of Ghazals rendered by Mehdi Hassan , which included the above ghazal also. Gradually I became an  ardent fan of the maestro  and learnt the lyrics of many well known ghazals, like- Patta Patta   Boota Boota  Haal Hamara Jaane Hai  , Yeh Dhuan Kahan se Uthta Hai , Gulon Mein Rang Bhare, Muhabbat Karne wale Kam Na Honge… , Ranjish hi sahi, Zindagi mein to sabhi pyaar kiya karte hain , and many others. The death of the maestro has caused a void in the music world. Cutting across borders, his was the singing voice of the subcontinent , where  people loved him, adored him  and  would always wait to listen to his  inimitable voice.

R I P   Mehdi Saheb, you were the real  Shehanshah of Ghazals !

BHAGTU

His parents may have named him Bhagat Ram or even  Bhagat Singh , after the great martyr, but  to all of us in the neighbourhood, he was Bhagtu , for short or as an endearment. He was just 12-13 years of age , i.e. 3-4 years older  to me  and worked as a  domestic help  with three bachelor  or  छड़े  officers  working in   AIR, Public Relations and Publicity  Department. , who   shared a spacious flat on the upper storey of  “Colonel ki Kothi”  across a small  playground  . Since his employers were all non fussy, the least demanding sort, Bhagtu had all the time to play with us when we were back from school. He was   from some village in Kangra district, which at that time was a part of Punjab, but later was merged in Himachal Pradesh. He was ever smiling and  his sweet nature had endeared him to all. My mother would look upon him as another of her own  children and would keep aside a share for him whenever, there was something special to eat. As is common with children, once I had a minor scuffle with him during the course of play, or may be perhaps he had unwittingly hit or hurt me . In anger I made some indiscreet remark calling him a naukar or a servant , at which , he ran away  sulkingly.   This earned  me the ire and anger of all  especially my mother and I got a thrashing of my life  and I was made to apologize  to Bhagtu.

For me this was lesson for life, and to this day I  take special care, nor to hurt  anyone, with words or deeds. Even the address ‘tu’  is  only for my wife, my kids & their friends , otherwise it is ‘aap’  irrespective of age or standing. Similarly , all my acquaintances are uncles and aunties for my kids , whom they greet with folded hands.