The cub has bared his fangs. Will his bite match his roar?

Photo: Vasant Prabhu

HE HAS the literati fuming, television channels debating, columnists penning scathing opinions and the average Indian wondering if indeed freedom of expression is a birthright. But the man of the moment, Aditya Thackeray, is ignoring the storm he has whipped up — because there is a history exam to take. The 20-year-old third year student at St Xavier’s recently got Rohinton Mistry’s Such a Long Journey struck off the university syllabus because it criticised his grandfather — an event that coincided with his official induction into the Shiv Sena as the leader of the youth wing. As he stood alongside his grandfather and father at the Sena’s annual Dussehra rally last week as the new face of the Sena, bets were being laid across the nation — will this English-educated Thackeray reverse the Sena’s fate, or will he, like his father, watch helplessly as the party disintegrates?
Journalist Mahesh Mhatre, who has followed the Sena’s shenanigans for decades, says, “This Rohinton Mistry issue was stage-managed. But like an old Marathi saying goes: If there is no water in the well, no use trying different ways to get it out. They are using him as their last attempt to get back into the game, and are fielding him against Raj. But it won’t work — firstly, because all their issues are non-issues, and secondly because Raj has the kind of charisma Aditya will never have. Though he is intelligent, simple and good natured, he also has a chip on his shoulder. I met him at a party, where he got a call from a Shiv Sainik on his cell phone. The way he warned the worker to never call him on his personal number again was very surprising!”
For his classmates, Aditya is just another student in St Xavier’s: genial, friendly but dressed weirdly in tiger motifs. “He was known as the Sena boy only in the first year, because he came to college with bodyguards. But now, he’s just like us,” says Poonam Burde, a third year sociology student. “He had a right to object to the book, but the fault was the vice-chancellor’s. How can you just take a decision overnight?” she adds. Another friend, Clyde Galbao, who studied with Aditya until last year, laughs, “Aditya is very normal, except that his jokes are horrible. He is nice to everyone and rarely talks about politics, but he does have intelligent opinions on everything.”
Interestingly, until five years ago, Aditya wanted to go abroad to study international law. Why he suddenly took such a detour is a point to ponder, says Kumar Ketkar, editor of Marathi daily Loksatta. “We have had many dinners together and Aditya came across as intelligent and sensitive. I was glad there was one sensible Thackeray at last. And now he has joined the Sena! He can’t speak one line of Marathi without the Bombay Scottish accent. I don’t think he can indulge in mindless militancy like the other Shiv Sainiks, but has entered politics just because of family pressure.”
The Shiv Sena is standing firm on its ground that Aditya is the face of tomorrow that will propel them ahead, and is in no way competing with Raj. “How can you compare the two? Raj is 42 years old and Aditya just 20. He is neither like Balasaheb nor Uddhav, he is simply Aditya and he will stand on his own. He has always been interested in politics and possesses the patience to be a politician,” says Sanjay Raut, editor of Saamana. “He is responsible for roping in that section of the young population that sees politics as unnecessary and is interested in technology. As far as the Rohinton Mistry issue is concerned, he doesn’t need an issue to be launched. He is Bal Thackeray’s grandson and that is enough.”

For his classmates, Aditya is just another student dressed weirdly in tiger motifs

BUT IS it? The Shiv Sena, like the BJP, has been suffering in an India that brushes aside right-wing politics and keeps development centrestage. Choosing the subject of a book as a vehicle of his initiation into the party sends out the message that the young Thackeray conforms to Sena ideology. Princeton University historian Gyan Prakash notes, “In attacking Rohinton Mistry’s book, Aditya is following a well-known script as a rite of passage into Shiv Sena politics — to get street cred as an authentic Sena leader. Note that he claims to have not read the whole book but just some offending passages. How can someone who claims to represent the Marathi manoos actually admit to reading a book in English? So, the book must be turned into a symbol and attacked. Only then his own background as someone who has grown up in comfortable circumstances, studied at St Xavier’s College, and is a part of a political dynasty can be set aside to craft another image. The fact that he is English-educated will not win him a following since the whole exercise is designed to draw our attention away from that and to establish him as an authentic Marathi manoos.” Filmmaker Shyam Benegal agrees, “He has narrowed down his perspective to what Shiv Sena has always been, and the hope for a fresher approach has come crashing down.”
State politicians say they are not threatened by the third-generation Thackeray. “Their ideology is outdated and I don’t think it will make a difference unless he wants to improve on that,” says Congress MP Milind Deora. His party colleague Sanjay Nirupam, who was with the Sena from 1996 to 2005, and has known Aditya since he was a toddler, feels that only the performance of the party will determine if Aditya matters. “How can you launch the third generation when even the second hasn’t been launched properly?” he chuckles, adding, “But I wish him all the best.”
A poem called Advice written by Aditya some time back contains the lines: “If only you learn from the mistakes of the past; take lessons from the present; and plan for tomorrow.” By his own logic, then, the political debutant should now work towards saving the Shiv Sena from its own philosophy.
aastha@tehelka.com

BRIC is a thing of the past. All eyes are now on Civits

By Abhishek Anand

Illustration: Naorem Ashish

CIVITS (China, India, Vietnam, Indonesia, Turkey and South Africa) are fast emerging as the new global poster boys, and might well leave BRIC — the term coined by Goldman Sachs economist Jim O’Neill for the Brazil, Russia, India and China combine – way behind. What’s taken CIVITS ahead of BRIC are basically two factors: the huge domestic demand in South Africa and Indonesia, and the emergence of Vietnam and Turkey as the new investment destinations.
“All four are growing rapidly and promise a sound economic future; whereas Russia and Brazil have failed to live up to their earlier promise. It’s thus no surprise that they are being replaced,” says Suresh Tendulkar, senior economist and former chairman of the Prime Minister’s Economic Advisory Council.
After O’Neill’s coinage, BRIC became virtually a paradigm to measure the increasing transfer of economic power from developed nations to emerging markets. But now, it’s CIVITS that is being most closely wooed and watched. For instance, in the past year, both India and China grew rapidly despite the global slowdown. The Indian economy grew at a healthy 8.8 percent during the first quarter (April-June) this fiscal. And the Reserve Bank of India estimate suggests it is likely to grow at 8.5 percent through 2010-11. China is poised to grow even faster. During the second quarter, its economy grew 10.3 percent.
The Indonesian economy too saw 6.2 percent growth during the second quarter of the current fiscal; it was 5.7 percent during the first. On the other hand, the Russian economy grew by just 3.1 percent during the first quarter of this year.
But, considering that second quarter gross domestic product growth was just 1.2 percent in the UK and 1.7 percent in the US, some economists are completely unwilling to buy the line that CIVITS will necessarily beat Russia and Brazil. “The long-term prospects of the Russian economy look good, and Brazil’s too is growing at a comfortable pace,” believes DK Joshi, chief economist at credit rating agency CRISIL Ltd, the Indian arm of Standard and Poor’s.
According to him, removing Russia and Brazil from the watch list is as premature as it is off beam.

I hate you, I hate you Mallika

But who can really hate her — overheated housewife, faux Indian princess or nagin? Aastha Atray Banan meets the multiple personality order called Mallika Sherawat
IT’S A HOT and humid day. But at Mumbai’s Famous Studios, sweltering heat doesn’t interfere with the important business at hand. Shouting, cajoling, promising the moon, passive aggression, suicidal despair, it’s all part of the everyday logistics. Then Mallika arrives.
Seven hours of waiting backstage, as Mallika records an episode of Zee’s Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, we are shepherded into her vanity van for a quick chat. She apologises quickly with the same unmistakeable mouth that once kissed its way to fame, and you are already distracted.
The distraction doesn’t stop at her long legs, slim waist and full bosom in a white lace dress. Her eyelids bat flirtatiously and non-stop. You believe that she is genuinely happy to see you, until you remember where you are. Then you wonder — is this how she wins people over? Despite not having a single big hit to her credit since Murder, except the sleeper hit Pyaar Ke Side Effects, Mallika just doesn’t seem to disappear. She is at Cannes (though Aishwarya Rai would like to pretend she isn’t). She is being hailed as the next Brigitte Bardot by Time’s Richard Corliss. She became the first Indian actor to have been given an honorary citizenship in Los Angeles, and now she is starring in the strange Hollywood production, Hisss. What is it that ‘they’ see we seem immune to?
Maybe they love her because she plays exotic Indian princess so beautifully, simultaneously devoid of sin and full of Mae Westisms — she recently called a python her best onscreen lover. “I am the salt of the earth,” she declares, and Third World salt is clearly the best kind.
“She is such a princess. Did you know that she didn’t even know what the middle finger denoted when she first came to LA? It was hilarious,” executive producer of Hisss, William Sees Keenan, laughs, adding, “Seriously, she is a saint, a nun even. She draws the line between what is sensual and trashy quite clearly.” If Keenan is to be believed, she doesn’t smoke or drink and is in bed by 10 pm.
There is a pause needed here. Is this the same Mallika who set India on fire with one memorable numeral — 17 kisses in a film? And the same Mallika whose soundbytes make you wince (‘I am like Viagra to Indian men’)? But a few minutes into the conversation and you realise you are in a brand new game — Mallika as the sexy nerd, too bright for Bollywood. “What sets me apart is that I am not an actress defined by the man she dates. I am an actor who dares. Wasn’t it Woody Allen who said, ‘Not taking risks is a bigger risk?” she says with a steady gaze. She does this often — spout showbusiness philosophy. “I read a lot of biographies. Did you know that Bette Davis’ tombstone reads, ‘She did it the hard way’? I am such a nerd.” Rumours on FTII campus has it that Sherawat has Bollywood’s biggest collection of world cinema, and that she is a walking film encyclopaedia.
“Why do people assume — just because I do the roles I do — that I’m like that? I like my professional persona, but I’m very different in real life. But why does that matter to anybody? I say what I say, and do what I do, because it’s a part of my work persona.”
She shrugs away questions about her early reputation in Bollywood. “The kisses were no big deal. Wouldn’t one kiss her husband? We are in the 21st century for god’s sake.” Or the criticism about the black dress she wore during the premiere of Inglourious Basterds. “Blame Dolce and Gabbana,” she laughs, “Anyway, the red carpet is not meant for comfort. It’s meant to grab eyeballs.”
FORGETTING REEMA
Mallika quotes Bette Davis and it’s clear she sees a parallel in Hollywood’s favourite ‘broad’ — an outspoken firebrand. She talks a lot about fighting her conservative Haryanvi upbringing on her way to Bollywood. “My parents thought I was joking. It’s still not accepted in my family, though my mother supported me,” she says. There are reports her father disowned her when she decided to act, and so she took on her mother’s name, and thus was born Mallika Sherawat from the ashes of Reema Lamba. She was also allegedly married once, to Jet Airways pilot Karan Singh Gill, whom she met as an air hostess. There are plenty of Reema Lamba stories from that period but she dismisses them with a single line and steely glare, “I was never an air hostess.”
In all this rewriting, she does not erase her time as a student at DPS Mathura Road, and later Miranda House College in Delhi. She remembers it as uneventful though. “I wasn’t interested in boys. Didn’t we just talk about me being a nerd?”
Mallika’s contemporaries have a different story to tell. “We knew her as someone very popular with the boys. You couldn’t ignore her. She was always there, always asking for attention. Later, when we heard her in the media with her stories about a hard childhood, we all had a good laugh,” says a junior from school who insists that Mallika is 34, and not 29 as she claims to be.
But Mallika Sherawat doesn’t seem to care about the accusations of being spotlight-hungry at all costs. “Isn’t it good I can get attention so easily? I love it when people call me audacious.

A few minutes into the conversation you realise you are in a brand new game — Mallika as the sexy nerd too bright for Bollywood

I don’t want my fans to get bored, and I want my producers to make money, and I want to be laughing all the way to the bank. So being audacious works for me.” It may also be a strategy to be different in an industry full of factorymade actors. The road less travelled has kept her in the news for sure, even though Bollywood seems to be wary of casting her.
Himanshu Malik, Mallika’s first co-star in the 17-kiss hit Khwahish, is a good example of the confused weathervanes Bollywood is composed of. “The brand of movies Mallika likes doing are too risqué and her ‘I-am-sosexually- forward’ personality makes her shelf life less,” he says. Of course, for all of Malik’s piousness his 15 raging minutes of fame began and ended with kissing Mallika.
Mallika’s Hollywood story doesn’t look like it will end with Hisss. She will also be seen in Love, Barack, a romantic comedy set in Barack Obama’s presidential campaign. Mallika plays Aretha Gupta, a devoted local Obama volunteer coordinator.
Filmmaker Saket Chaudhary, who cast Mallika and Rahul Bose in Pyaar Ke Side Effects, tries to explain Bollywood’s attitude towards her. “She has always played characters who are on the edge sexually, except in my movie. Bollywood doesn’t allow her that. We can’t distinguish between the real and reel persona. She was very professional, a delight to work with. She gave me no hassles, despite my being a first-time director.”
Right now, Mallika is riding high on the Hisss wave. She is sure that the movie, which stars her opposite Irrfan Khan, and for which she has been in the news again for shedding her clothes, will be a superhit. “It’s the age-old story of the spurned nagin, only with great visual effects. How can you resist that?”
It is difficult to not admire Mallika’s chutzpah. There have been no crowds cheering her on all these years. But as her inspiration Bette Davis said, “I survived because I was tougher than anybody else.” Mallika has been a good student.
aastha@tehelka.com

Green is the new gold. Equity funds look to reap rich harvest

By Abhishek Anand

Windfall Indian agri firms have profited from infusion of equity funds
Photo: AP

IT IS financial inclusion of a different kind. Sensing a huge opportunity, private equity funds are increasingly investing in the rural economy, primarily consisting of agribusiness, microfinance and livestock. The latest in the series is Lighthouse Funds, which has recently invested nearly Rs. 34 crore in Dhanuka Agritech Ltd.
Dhanuka Agritech is present in businesses such as agrochemicals, fertilisers and seeds. The company’s agri-division has a pan-India presence and a dealer network of 15,000 outlets across the country.
Summit Partners, a US private equity fund with $11 billion in assets under management, too has made its debut in India with a $30 million investment in Krishidhan Seeds Ltd (KSL), a commercial seeds company based in Maharashtra.
KSL develops, produces and distributes proprietary hybrid seeds of cotton and rice. It claims a countrywide presence and offers a diversified portfolio of more than 120 products including crops, vegetable seeds and crop nutrition. It has more than 30,000 seed growers under its fold and has a strong network, with about 1,600 distributors and 25,000 retailers across the country.
And that is not all. Vistaar Livelihood Finance, a microfinance company, recently raised nearly Rs.15 crore from SVB India Capital Partners, a mainstream investor, and Elevar Equity, a social venture fund. Vistaar Finance has several schemes under which it lends anywhere between Rs. 15,000 and Rs. 40,000 to rural people.
“With the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act and rapid growth of the Indian economy, income level is on the rise in rural areas. It provides immense opportunity and that is luring private equity funds,” says Brahmanand Hegde, managing director and chief executive officer, Vistaar Finance.
MOREOVER, SOME companies are also trying to rope in strategic investors. For instance, Delhi-based agribusiness firm Dev Bhumi Cold Chain Private Ltd is looking to raise funds through private equity.

‘Agribusiness has the potential of yielding 25 percent returns,’ says BMR Advisors director Sujata Mody

“The potential in the rural sector is immense and major private equity and venture capital firms, including the likes of Nexus, New Silk Route Advisors and Sequoia Capital, are looking to invest in the sector. We have roped in the services of PricewaterhouseCoopers to help us raise funds,” says a senior official of Dev Bhumi Cold Chain Private Ltd.
“Agribusiness has the potential of providing returns close to 20-25 percent and that is why both private equity as well as venture capital companies are exploring opportunities in the area,” says Sujata Mody, director, BMR Advisors. “The average deal size is anywhere between $10 million and $25 million.”
However, IFCI Venture Capital Funds Ltd chairman Atul Kumar Rai is not so gung-ho on rural investments. “No one has any doubt about the potential of our rural sector. But there are several roadblocks ahead,” he says. “There is a huge shortage of power and even roads are not in a good condition. On top of it, there is no pricing freedom on many agricultural produce. As a result, risk involved in the business is high and, hence, only big private equity funds are in a position to take such risk.”
But as they say, the higher the risk, the higher the possible gains.
abhishek.anand@fwtehelka.com

The only Fashionistas

If you are trying to spot the next hot trend, head to the Northeast. Forget the metros, street fashion is born in Shillong, Kohima and Imphal, says Aastha Atray Banan
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NAMRAPALI NARZARY is a 21-year-old Bodo student from Assam, studying sociology at JNU. Narzary is currently into the body-con look inspired by Serena Van der Woodson from Gossip Girl. Think super tight bandage style dresses — unwatered down fashion but at non-Hérve Léger prices. On the university’s tree-lined streets, among the studied slacker fashion of the student population, Narzary stands out with her effortless style.
Narzary is not an exception. A casual glance across college canteens anywhere in India will confirm where the real fashionistas of the country are. Not Mumbai, Delhi or Bengaluru. The girls and boys from the Northeast are the frontrunners. Fitted dresses, abstract-shaped pants, harem pants, bubblegum colour schemes, skinny jeans, ties, hip-hop sneakers and gelled, highly structured hair all hit Gangtok, Shillong, Imphal and Kohima before they hit ‘mainland’ India.

Narzary did not spend years trying to choose between the three prevailing influences on Indian street fashion: Bollywood bling, dated American trends and ‘alternative’ meaning ethnic with a heavy dose of handlooms. As a teenager, Narzary only wanted to look like the Korean girl band 21. With Bollywood unpopular and minimal local language programming, pop culture in the Northeast takes a lot of its cues from Korean television anyway. The Korean pop music aesthetic contains some startling artifacts: pink one-shoulder shrugs, leather bodysuits with silver studs, 1980s playsuits, hot pants in neon colours and dropped crotch pants for men. Mazami Sailo Rose, an executive working for the Italian fashion house Pal Zileri grew up in Mizoram. She explains the leaning toward Seoul simply, “Our bodies are different from people in the rest of India, so are our features. We resemble people from Korea and China. It’s better to dress like them than dress like Bollywood stars. That’s why Korean pop bands are a huge influence.”
The fashion establishment may be catching on. When the prospect of a Guwahati Fashion Week was announced recently, hopes were raised for a runway without embroidered lehengas, glistening sherwanis and sequinned saris. The event, which is tentatively slated for this month, will feature fashion designers and models from the Northeast. Debasish Shyam, business head, United Spirits Limited, one of the sponsors, explained simply, “We found that the youth in the Northeast spend most of their disposable income on fashion. And since there is no concerted effort to establish an official platform for fashion in that region, we stepped up.”
So why is the Northeast ahead of the curve? Nandini Baruah, 30, a well-known Guwahati designer who will also be showing at the Guwahati Fashion Week, believes that the region’s melting pot nature helps. “Take Assamese society, there are descendents of the Mongolians who came from China and descendents of the Aryans. There are many intercaste marriages as well. Due to this mix of cultures, people are more open-minded here, and thus, fashion is easily accepted. You are bound to find a unique Justin Timberlake or Rihanna at every corner.” Daniel Syiem, 30, a designer from Shillong also brings up the influence of pop music, “Right now, with the coming of VH1, hip-hop dominates the scene. It’s great that finally we may have a fashion week to call our own. For years, we have dressed well, now we can link that fashion awareness to a larger context of fashion in India.”
If you were missing a sartorialist-like blog tracking some of this fashion, look no further than A Bit of Our Life (stylingscholars.blogspot.com). Lepcha and Longkumar are 20-something anthropology students in Shillong. You can’t see their faces but everyday they post pictures of themselves in delicious new clothes somewhere in their hometown. With wearable colours, clean lines and high-waisted everything, the girls are less hip-hop and more Aisha. Aisha with flair. L1 and L2, as the girls like to call themselves, trace their instinctive fashion antennae back to their parents and grandparents.
An antenna so sensitive that to be rebellious means to be anti-fashion. Mumbai-based copywriter Kima De Mizohican complains, “There is a lot of pressure to look good. When I go back from Mumbai to Mizoram, I have to hear jibes from people about being too casual. Fashion has become such an integral part of people’s lives that if you are not with it, you are totally uncool.”
PHOTOS: GARIMA JAIN AND MS GOPAL
 

RBI to Raise Lending to Match Private Moneylenders

By Abhishek Anand
RURAL MONEYLENDERS, used to charging high interest rates from the indebted poor, will have competition once the regional rural banks (RRBs) have been recapitalised to raise their lending ability. The government has accepted the recommendations of the Deputy Governor of the Reserve Bank of India (RBI), KC Chakrabarty, to pump around Rs 2,200 crore into the RRBs to substantially raise their capital adequacy level. This is a measure of a bank’s capital in relation to its lending, and thus a barometer of its health.
The 15,475 branches of the 82 RRBs in 619 districts — the primary formal source for farm loans and other rural financing — have, for the most part, been out of bounds of the poor because as many as 23 of them have a capital adequacy ratio of less than 7 percent; and in seven of them it was a measly 1 percent till last March. This may be a mild improvement since March 2008, when 22 of them didn’t even have this much.
According to a senior finance ministry official, the committee headed by Chakrabarty also favours having a separate fund of Rs. 100 crore to train RRB staff and build capacity. The move will raise the banks’ capital adequacy to 7 percent by March 2011 and 9 percent by 2012. The committee had examined ways to strengthen rural banks, so they can support an agricultural growth rate of 4 percent over the next few years.
The money should also help clean up the banks’ balance sheets. Though only three RRBs made losses in 2009-10, the accumulated losses of 30 such banks stand at Rs. 1,808 crore. In sync with the government’s focus on the rural economy, RRBs have been concentrating on priority sector lending. Against the mandate of at least 60 percent loans to this sector, the share of such banks has been above 80 percent. The banks also provide loans of up to Rs. 5 lakh to small-scale industries, and the retail, education and housing sectors. In 2009, they gave loans worth Rs. 56,268 crore.

New rules may not bring in bigger returns

INSURANCE POLICY
By Abhishek Anand

Once the new ULIP guidelines are in place, the returns in many cases could be much lower. But the insurers dispute this
Illustration:  Samia Singh

THE INITIAL euphoria over the new regulations governing unit-linked insurance policies (ULIPs) may be misplaced. Even with the new guidelines, which envisage staggered commissions for agents and brokers, the net return to customers may not change much. This is primarily due to premium allocation charges being levied through the term of a policy.
The charge is deducted from premium before it is invested. Under the old ULIP structure, most products charged premium allocation fees for only a few years. Under the new structure, however, such fees would be charged over the entire tenure of the policy, which could be 15 years or more, resulting in more subdued returns than was earlier estimated.
In many cases, the returns could be lower. This is borne out in an “internal illustration” carried out by Aviva Life Insurance Company India Ltd for its own use, concerning two of its products. It says, if a person pays an annual premium of Rs. 50,000 for 20 years in Aviva Freedom Life Advantage, the projected fund value in the new regime would be Rs.15,85,993 against the projected fund value of Rs. 16,31,068 as per the older regime, indicating a loss of Rs. 45,075. The “illustration” presumes an annual return of 10 percent.

Once the new ULIP guidelines are in place, the returns in many cases could be much lower. But the insurers dispute this

Asked whether the return on ULIPs over 20-25 years would be lower in the new structure, GV Nageswara Rao, chief executive officer of IDBI Federal Life Insurance Company Ltd, said,“The returns will remain at par with the older regime. But there would be other benefits, such as lower surrender charges and more riders. Even the number of products would decline, resulting in less confusion among policyholders.”
Rahul Aggarwal, chief executive officer of Optima Insurance Brokers, agrees. “The returns on policies having a maturity of 7-8 years will definitely increase, though this may not be so in the case of a longer regime. The whole idea of the changes in the ULIP guidelines is to increase transparency,” said Aggarwal.
The new ULIP guidelines kicked in from 1 September. IDBI Federal has launched one new ULIP and Aviva Life two products. Other insurance companies have together launched close to 50 new products. At the same time, some 250 ULIP products have been withdrawn. Companies such as ICICI Prudential Life Insurance, Reliance Life Insurance Company Ltd and Tata AIG Life Insurance Company Ltd have withdrawn more than 10 products each. And Life Insurance Corporation of India, India’s largest insurance company, has withdrawn nine.
Illustration: Samia Singh

Till threats keep us together

 
A startling film on groom kidnappings almost failed to see the light of day. Aastha Atray Banan speaks to the director of Antardwand on his struggle
AT A TIME when Khap killings and female infanticide have stopped raising eyebrows, a film is all set to change our perceptions. When director Sushil Rajpal decided to make a film on groom kidnappings, also known as jabariya shaadi, a social practice flourishing in the hinterlands of Bihar, little did he know that he was embarking on an arduous journey. Antardwand, which was completed in 2007 and won the National Award in 2009, couldn’t be released in India before 2010. The reason? The distributors didn’t consider it economically viable. But Rajpal didn’t give up. Several challenges later, his efforts seem to have paid off as the film releases under the PVR banner this week.
A particularly shocking scene in the film shows alcohol being poured down the kidnapped groom’s throat as he is beaten and forced into a sherwani. Meanwhile, the bride is being pampered during her haldi and then dressed in a beautiful saree.
Inspired by the true story of Rajpal’s close friend from Delhi, the film was a labour of love for the debutant director. “I never thought an incident that happened 20 years ago would still be relevant today. But the practice is still rampant in Bihar and parts of Uttar Pradesh. Out of 3,000 kidnappings last year, 1,000 victims were grooms. It is usually done to avoid giving dowry,” says Rajpal. While Rajpal’s friend ran away, he could never get married as the bride’s family slapped a case against him, which he continues to fight till date. “Most grooms submit to their fate. The ones that run away have charges of abandonment slapped on them. If the marriage has been consummated, then getting a divorce is even harder,” Rajpal adds.

Best man Rajpal’s script was inspired by a friend’s experience
Best man Rajpal’s script was inspired by a friend’s experience

Raj Singh Chowdhury, who plays the protagonist Raghuveer, says playing the groom in distress was frustrating — “I am from Rajasthan, where female infanticide is still prevalent. How does one change the way people think? It’s an innate part of their system.” Even Swati Sen, who plays the demure bride, was dumbstruck when she first read the script. “The bride suffers as well. All she wants is a normal marriage and a husband who loves her. But she is stuck with a man who doesn’t want her,” she says.
DESPITE THE distributors’ initial scepticism, Rajpal found favour with some of the biggest names in B-town. “Everybody has their reasons to release a film. Distributors need stars. My friends and the producers with whom I had worked as a director of photography helped me fund the project. Once we won the National award, PVR came on board,” he muses, saying he doesn’t blame the film industry. “So many people did help — Anurag Kashyap, Rajkumar Hirani, Imtiaz Ali — all came out to support the movie.” Incidentally, Rajpal, a cinematographer- turned-director who studied at Pune’s FTII, also worked on Ali’s Jab We Met and was director of photography in Pradeep Sarkar’s Laaga Chunari Mein Daag.

‘Out of 3,000 kidnappings in 2009 in Bihar, 1,000 victims were grooms. It’s done to avoid giving dowry,’ says Rajpal

Shot in the stark landscape of Bihar, the film’s desi dialect and strong performances give it a realistic edge. The final word comes from Hirani, who says, “The film is inspiring because the story is simple and strong. I was shocked to see that the practice still continues. If Rajpal had told me six months ago that he had problems releasing it, I would have released it for him.”
aastha@tehelka.com

Whatever happened to JJ school?

Once a grooming ground for eminent artists, the premier school now faces flak for being outdated, reports Aastha Atray Banan

A model’s pose in the anatomy class has not changed for the past 25 years, says Sandra Khare, an alumnus of the JJ School of Art
A model’s pose in the anatomy class has not changed for the past 25 years, says Sandra Khare, an alumnus of the JJ School of Art

BLACK, WHITE and brown. If you thought these were the only possible complexions humans could have, then it’s time to enter the world of 24-year-old artist Sakshi Sathe. If a model is sleepy, she would rather use red, when sad navy blue and when sporting a smile silver is her best bet. But she never did get a chance to test her wild fantasies at her art school, the JJ Institute of Applied Art in Mumbai. “If I am told I can only work with peach, pink, beige or brown, how will my interpretation of the model be different from the rest? Everything is according to the syllabus. Art is treated like math,” says the artist who passed out of JJ School two months ago.
With its celebrated campus and famous alumni, who include the likes of Tyeb Mehta and Atul Dodiya, the historic institution is just not “with it” any more, students moan. “Installation, video art, performance art — nothing is mentioned at JJ,” says Sakshi. Others complain that the focus is on complying with the syllabus. Some rue that none of the teachers practise art.
Manisha Patil, the dean of JJ, agrees that the art school is lagging behind and needs to reinvent itself. “A committee met over proposed changes in the syllabus earlier this year, but nothing happened. It is a great institution but needs a little help to woo students. Despite being located at the heart of Mumbai, it’s not as cosmopolitan as it should be,” she says. Sandra Khare, director of the Chemould Prescott Road, a contemporary art gallery and an ex-student of JJ is vociferous in her critique of the famed college. “Take the case of the anatomy class where the models and their poses have not changed in 25 years. Composition is a repetition of a so-called creative idea and form that negates the definition of what an ‘idea’ is. Students cannot even choose their colour palette.” Painter Justin Ponmany who also studied at JJ, says, “The students can be the change they want to see. They can organise workshops and meet artists.”
MAYBE IT is high time the board of education took a look at the way art is taught. Suresh Jayaram, former principal of the Karnataka Chitrakala Parishath, says, “Art education should focus on creativity and must centre on experimentation. Most teachers don’t talk about contemporary art at all; they don’t even know what’s happening in the art world,” he says.
The students of Srishti School of Art, Design and Technology in Bengaluru tell a different story. The school has introduced a course on gaming art, refreshes its course every year and has a faculty of professional artists. Ampat Varghese Varghese, academic dean (professional diploma programmes), feels that the job of an art school is to enable the student to look into the future. But could it be compromising on the basics? “Art history is just touched upon,” admits Pia Alize Hazarika, an alumnus.
But schools like Srishti are out of reach for an artist from a small village. A fee of Rs.2 lakh per year for a course does not sound as good as JJ’s modest Rs.3,000 a year. Government colleges are cheaper and often the only choice available to aspiring artists. Till the government takes art seriously, all that these students can do is “suck it up”. One hopes that these art schools see the light that Michelangelo tried to spread when he said, “A man paints with his brains and not with his hands.”
Illustration: Samia Singh
aastha@tehelka.com

Third-party cheques only in special cases

MUTUAL FUND FRAUD
By Abhishek Anand
TO OVERCOME frauds and mitigate money laundering, the Association of Mutual Funds in India (AMFI) has instructed mutual fund companies not to accept third-party cheques from 15 November — albeit with a few exceptions.
Third-party cheques are those, whereby payment is made from an account other than that of the beneficiary — the investor. AMFI recently told the mutual fund industry to accept third-party cheques only in cases where investments are made by parents or relatives on behalf of a minor; an employer invests on behalf of employees; or a custodian on behalf of a client, including a foreign institutional investor.
In the rest of the cases, customers submitting cheques issued by others will no longer be able to invest in mutual funds. And they will be required to provide details of their bank accounts — those from which payments are made, and the ones in which their mutual fund holdings will be redeemed.
Says AMFI Chairman AP Kurian: “To save their skin, fraudsters invariably use someone else’s cheques. AMFI has also proposed to extend the KYC (Know Your Customer) norms to investments as low as Rs. 1. Currently, these apply only for those above Rs. 50,000.

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