Shubho Bijoya

Well, it was that time of year all over again, when the unwashed masses or rather masses who don’t understand what a deodorant is, despite the television telling them that applying said deo, usually with an extremely silly name will get them laid, came near my house. And have now left, for which I am eternally grateful – Shubho Bijoya to me means the end of the crowds – which is why it is a good day. The masses generally honked their horns a lot, groped the occasional other person (this, as someone tried to explain to me isn’t sexual it just is well, Indian, because we like ‘feeling’ other people. Really now?) and picked the odd wallet. The Puja being a curious side-show run by middle-aged Bengali women who don’t work giving them their one chance in a year to act important.
It isn’t as if I’m not religious, but the rampant commercialization of the Puja – four pandals I saw were lead sponsored by – a betting company (bwin, the guys who sponsor Real Madrid); Coca-Cola; some random deodorant company with a skimpily clad woman on the poster (we are worshipping ‘Ma’ here, remember) and some other random mutual-fund company, maybe the guys who call me up five times a day trying to sell me a plan.
Surprising isn’t it, but at a level we actually celebrate misogyny in this country or at least under the ‘modern’ anti-imperialistic religion that we follow, which kind of dilutes the ‘maryada’ and ‘sabhyata’ arguments that are thrown at you by whackos sometimes. Of course, you can argue that I belong to whacko school as well, but the guys who belong to whacko school really are people who put stupid ring-tones and worse call-back tones. And of course people who defend a child-rapist on the grounds that he makes good movies.
Surprising isn’t it? The Americans all said and done, pursue a rapist for over thirty years and then spring a trap on him that has given many people across the world a massive moral dilemma. And we desperately try to bury a case so that a large pasta dinner can be enjoyed at 10 Janpath. Makes you wonder if Mayawati really does have a decent point. Even though, a college friend from Lucknow argues that the massive parks are great places to go for walks and get stoned every evening. I really didn’t know that UP politicians were chasing the stoner vote-bank. It is a bad idea to rely on stoners for votes, as successive college elections prove. The guys like sleeping. And I should know.
Anyway, the reason for my tardiness lately has been a Gym, I’m too tired to frikking think. Well, not quite, but I’ve been watching a bit of cricket on the side and really haven’t had the time. No wait, actually I’m just making excuses, I’ve been lazy. Period. That, and some other stuff.

Underwhelming

I saw the first issue of GQ India - and the cover is great for a second issue, the launch should have had someone bigger. Y'know a SRK or MSD. But I leafed through the magazine and I'll give you my honest opinion, much like Vogue, Conde Nast has decided to make GQ India a fashion brochure with adverts. The writing quality sucks, Suhel Seth is not not a good writer, I did like the sex column (written by a Vogue employee) but there was so little to read, one very Maxim-ish sort of feature with bar graphs that was not GQ-ish, a rock feature shot by Raghu Rai which was OK, but Rolling Stone did something on the same lines a few months ago and the rest of the magazine was not very memorable. Other than the shoots that were stunning, especially the cover shoot, I mean you can make out that Conde Nast blew a shitload of money on the shoot. Nothing tasteless like the idiotic 'slum' shoot by Vogue, but a great shoot nonetheless. But akll in all, the magazine just felt very Bombay and not GQ India. You know - it was really like GQ Bombay and not at all close to the brilliant writing standards that I have been used to in GQ UK or GQ US. The cocky editor claims that GQ will be the best magazine in India, if Karan Johar's limp interview of Aditya Mittal is any indication, GQ has a mountain and a half to climb. Or it could just decide to become India's leading men's fashion brochure. And while I don't want to draw stereotypes - that is very gay! Very, very gay!
I know Conde Nast wants to launch Wired in India next, and the best thing they can do is not to launch an Indian edition. The government has allowed for Indian-ad carrying facsimilie editions, and that is what Conde Nast should do if they don't want their local magazines just to be another magazine on a rack.
On other notes, last night following a call by a friend to watch CNBC, I enjoyed Maria Bartiromo's histrionics against politicians and the entire Wall Street Main Street thing. Must admit, at times it felt like the old girl was losing the plot. Given Udayan's new zen-like demeanour on the India market show, maybe Maria could pick something up from him. And by the way, I would invest in anyone who starts a company speacialising in crowd management systems. We have had 5,000 years of practice and we still can't manage crowds. Methinks I will take it easy during Durga Puja this year, because I have a bad feeling about Chitto Park. I just do and it really does feel very claustrophobic there.
In media news, three out of India's four large business magazines will have fresh editors. High levels of employee churn are impacting business publications, particularly thanks to business television and the lack of fresh blood entering this stream. Which is rather strange really, because it is a lot of fun, a lot more fun than running around with a camera and a mike for one bite!