KAMINEY: HOW HYPE CAN KILL A GOOD FILM

If the title of this post is misleading, let me clarify right at the start. Kaminey is not a bad film. In fact it’s a good film. But it just stops short of being a great one.

Especially when you compare it with the regular Bollywood staple, this is like manna from heaven. It’s the kind of film which a Karan Johar, even if he’s twice re-born will not have the skills or daring to make. It takes a man of supreme conviction and craft to put together such a racy, pulsating film.

My problem with Kaminey is that it didn’t sweep me off my feet. It didn’t blow my top off. Like Dev D or Departed did. The kind of film which sends an electric shock through your cerebrum, shaking your system down to the marrow. Kaminey just pretended to do that.

And part of it has to do with the stratospherical hype that preceded the film. The makers of the film and their friends in the media made this out to be our answer to Tarantino and Guy Ritchie. And it falls short only because of this irrational chest-thumping and trumpet blowing.

Not one film reviewer in this country gave it less than four stars. In fact the film critic of the country’s most popular newspaper gave it the same rating as she had given to Love Aaj Kal. There cannot be a greater travesty. It’s like equating Cabernet Sauvignon and horse piss.

It seems to be a bit of a strategy these days with Bollywood films. Go on this publicity blitzkrieg before the release of the film. Send the lead pair (sometimes with the director, to bring that intellectual touch) to do the rounds of TV studios. Hype the movie to such heights that out of sheer curiosity the viewer will go and watch. And if you’ve made it in the opening weekend, then it’s as good as a home run.

But publicity also has its negative side. The audience has already been fed with great expectations. So they expect to see Citizen Kane every time they walk into a movie hall. And invariably, the real thing always feels pale compared to the hyperbole built around it. And that’s what has killed Kaminey, an otherwise perfectly good film.

For three-quarters of its length, Kaminey keeps you engaged. Just like any edge of the seat thriller. But it’s in the climax that Vishal Bhardwaj lets you down. It’s too tepid an end for a movie which promised to take you to the moon and back. In the end, it’s just regular caper fare. Why should good always prevail over evil? Why should both the brothers live and one not die? Why should it always be happily-ever-after?

Funnily I’m reminded of Marlon Brando’s famous line in On the Waterfront. Funny, because Terry (Brando) says this to Charlie (Rod Steiger). “I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender.” This one’s from a fan to our very own Charlie.

FEAR AND FARCE IN LANKA

During and even before the war, ordinary Sinhalas considered Mahinda Rajapakse, a national hero. Some one who had dared to do what no other President could even contemplate in mere thoughts. Today, after the war, he is revered. Almost saintly. Someone who can do no wrong. And more importantly, even if he does, cannot be criticized.

Mahinda, along with his two brothers, Gotabhaya and Basil have reduced Sri Lanka to a family run business. Their word is the Gospel truth and their will be done. So much so, independent journalists are today either dragged to court in frivolous libel suits or even better, coldly bumped off.

It’s best illustrated by this incident which happened last week. The Sunday Leader, the only paper in Sri Lanka which has a modicum of independence has been dragged to court by Gotabhaya, the Defence Secretary. Apparently an article in the Leader had dared to criticize the President’s brother. This was the response from the Ministry of Defence, posted on their website. “It is traitorous and unethical to oppose a national hero like the Secretary of Defence, with whose unwavering commitment and focus Sri Lanka is a free country today.” Reminds you of a certain German Nazi dictator?

In May, Sri Lanka clung at the cusp of hope, after the defeat of the LTTE. After all, Rajapakse had promised the Tamils the moon and beyond, after the war. Today over a tenth of Sri Lanka’s population is cooped in internment camps. All of them Tamil. Like pariahs in their own land. The government had promised to send them back to their homes soon after they were screened for remnants of the LTTE and after their villages were de-mined. Three months on, nothing has changed. More than 2,80,000 languish like livestock, in the most abysmal conditions.

And it only gets worse. The ICRC, the only international aid agency has now been prevented from entering these internment camps. Four of their offices in Trincomale and Batticaloa in the east, have been shut. And in this background, the government is preparing for elections in the North.

How does one explain this to Mr. Rajapakse? A token election when basics like food, water and shelter are hard to come by is self-defeating. There’s an occupational army, the bulk of the population is in far-away refugee camps, and there are just govt propped candidates in the electoral fray. Is Mr. Rajapakse holding this election, just for his friends who stood by him during the war?

The government has put up Mr. Douglas Devananda, a controversial Tamil Leader in Jaffna. Someone who was staunchly opposed to the LTTE and a stooge of the government of the day. He can hardly be called a true representative of the Tamil people. There’s no visible opposition. Devananda will win this election, hands down.

The government has clearly got its priorities warped. A recent survey by Social Indicator in Jaffna shows that more 40 percent of the population is indifferent to this election. In fact, about one in three feels their condition has worsened in the last one year. So much for military success. Three out of five kids in internment camps are suffering from malnutrition.

Things are eerily similar to 1975, when the EPDP ruled the north with an extra-judicial iron fist. It led to the birth of the LTTE. After 30 years of blood and battle is the government just rewinding Sri Lanka’s history? Has the decimation of the LTTE meant nothing? One can’t escape the sense of déjà vu.

LAST PROPHET OF SECULARISM

Even as the national media collectively orgasmed over Rakhi Sawant’s engagement this past weekend, a colossus passed away in Kerala. More than a million people braved the rains to pay homage to Panakkad Mohammadali Shihab Thangal, the President of the Indian Union Muslim League.

For the devout, Shihab Thangal was the descendant of the Prophet himself. For the politically attuned, he was the most influential Muslim political leader in Kerala. Not the rabid, chest-thumping, victim playing, regressive kind. But one who was fiercely secular and progressive in spite of the gravest odds.

For more than three decades, Shihab Thangal was the cornerstone of coalition politics in God’s Own Country. The rudder, without whom, the experiment called UDF would never have seen the light of day. For a man who never contested an election and who never held any governmental / constitutional post, Shihab Thangal wielded unparalleled clout. His was the last word for a large majority of the Muslims of North Kerala.

The man was avowedly secular, down to his bone marrow. Imagine a Muslim leader saying this, just days after the Babri Masjid demolition in 1992. “Not one stone will be thrown at a Hindu house. In fact, every Muslim will stand guard at his Hindu brethren’s house.” It takes a man of extreme conviction or plain balls to say that. If God’s own country didn’t flare up after the infamous events of 6 Dec 92, then God has this steadfast disciple to thank. In the face of the gravest provocation, Shihab Thangal did not dilute his own or the League’s fierce secularism. And in hindsight, he was proven right.

But political clout alone doesn’t explain the phenomenon that Shihab Thangal was. He was also a supreme religious head. For the believers of the Word, he was a descendant of the Holy Prophet himself. He was also a great philanthropic. Someone who realized that the truest disciples of Allah are the ones who take care of their brethren.

There’s a fascinating story about the poor people who used to visit Thangal’s ancestral home, Kurappanakkal in Panakkad village. Thangal used to ensure that each one of them was given one proper meal and return bus fares. For him, charity was not a service, it was a solemn duty. Something which every prosperous Muslim owed to his Creator for the blessings he was bestowed with.

What makes his story even more fascinating is when you compare him with other Muslim leaders of his time, in the rest of India. Not one of them can even hold a candle to kind of contributions Shihab Thangal has done for the Muslims of Malappuram. Malappuram wasn’t exactly the most prosperous district in Kerala. In the sixties and seventies, it ranked fairly low in almost all major social indices. Today, Malappuram is India’s first e-literate district. And Shihab Thangal has had no small role to play in this.

Compare this to the Maulvis and Ulemas in UP and Bihar. They have a vested interest in keeping a majority of their community poor and backward. Else, the political relevance of these reverend men diminishes. Agreed that over time, various political parties have treated Muslims as a monolithic vote bank. But Muslim leaders will have to share some of that blame as well. After all you can’t keep playing the victim card all the time.

As the Muslims of Kerala mourn the passing away of one of their favourite sons, let’s also redeem our faith in all that Shihab Thangal stood for. Compassion, humility and decency. He was truly the last prophet of secularism.

UNDERSTANDING BALOCHISTAN, FROM A PAK PERSPECTIVE

Ever since the PM returned from Sharm El-Sheikh, he’s been pilloried for that ill-fated joint statement. More than the D word, it’s the B word, which has got many hawkish analysts fuming. How could the PM have allowed a reference to Balochistan? Doesn’t this indirectly put both India and Pakistan on an even keel, with both equally guilty of sponsoring terror?

Now this is not an attempt to defend the Prime Minister, but just to look at Balochistan, from a Pakistani perspective. To understand why our neighbours are paranoid about a swathe of wasteland, which many in Pakistan themselves call "the dump where Allah shot the rubbish of creation."

Balochistan is critical for Pakistan. Balochistan is to Pakistan what Xinjiang is for China. It’s the jewel in Pakistan’s crown. There are two very simple reasons for this. One, that it has tremendous reserves of natural gas which is critical to Pakistan’s energy needs. Just over the last month or so, there have been bloody riots in Pakistan over the lack of electricity. Delhi’s power woes would seem like a dream when compared to the blackhole ordinary Pakistanis have been putting up with, day after day. Chambers of Commerce estimate Pakistan lost as much as a billion dollars in exports last fiscal, due to power cuts. Its manufacturing has fallen by 8 percent. Even Richard Holbrooke, in his visit there last week, had to pepper his praise for the Pak Army’s fight against the Taliban with the crucial need to tackle power cuts. That’s why Balochistan is critical for Pakistan’s future energy needs. Two important pipelines, one from Turkmenistan and the other from Iran pass through this region. This gas will not reach power generation stations in Karachi and Lahore, if Balochi nationals keep bombing the pipelines which carry them, every other day.

The second reason is that Balochistan, because of its arid terrain and vast swathes of rocky wasteland provides crucial buffer against any invading force. Already India is slowly but surely encircling Pakistan. Now India can attack Pakistan, not just from its eastern flank. We’ve got strategic depth in Afghanistan, in the west. An air force base in Tajikistan, in the north, from where we can fly fighter jets to bombard Pakistan. And reputed American scholars have admitted that the Indian consulate in the east Iranian city of Zehdan is doing more than just issuing visas. India is even engaged in building a world class port in the city of Chahbar in South East Iran. It’s India’s answer to what the Chinese have been doing in Gwadar.

The Pakistanis, and this is not just the military-intelligence establishment, are paranoid about India’s growing leverage in Afghanistan. They’re mortally scared of the day, the favourite benefactor of the Pakistani state and the country which ordinary Pakistanis love to hate, America, withdraws from Afghanistan.

And India hasn’t exactly helped in quelling this paranoia. We’ve been cultivating strategic depth in Afghanistan for a while now. India says we have only 9 consulates in Afghanistan. (That’s more than what we have in the US and UK, by the way). The Pakistanis say we have about 22. In the world of covert intelligence, where nothing can be the absolute truth, I am prepared to believe that the actual number is somewhere in between. From Pakistan’s point of view, you have a neighbour who you’re perennially suspicious of in the eastern flank, with unprecedented clout in your western flank. Naturally any country would be paranoid. That’s just what the Pakistanis are going through.

By agreeing to put Balochistan in the joint statement, Manmohan Singh is directly addressing the intelligence communities on both sides. And this is where the media seemed to have missed the tree for the woods. For the Indian intelligence establishment, this is a wake up call. A clear message from the Prime Minister that you can’t go on forever without any form of accountability. After all, the intelligence community, because of the very nature it’s DNA, is perennially suspicious of peace. They are the first ones to raise the red flag to any peace overtures.

And to the Pakistani intelligence establishment, who are most paranoid about Balochistan, Dr. Singh’s message is clear. Look, we’re willing to talk about your worst fears. And we’re not going to shy away from it. We’re willing to talk about it, like civilized nations. Now it’s upto you to show the same earnestness in addressing what you’re doing in Kashmir and other parts of India. He has directly addressed General Kayani and his gang, the so-called real power centre of Pakistan. It’s upto them to meet us half-way.

In the near-term Dr. Singh is getting plastered for allowing the B-word to slip in. But in the long term, it’s Gilani who needs to be worried. Because, unwittingly now, Balochistan has been internationalized. The spotlight of the international community will start falling on this piece of land, which until now, the Pakistanis have been deliberately loath to discuss about. What happened to Kashmir in 1948, is now happening to Balochistan, sixty years later. It may not seem so on the face of it, but there’s a method to the Sardar’s madness.