The Hindu and the Muslim - Party hai in Nizamuddin

A barber's shop in Delhi.
10.30 pm, night before Id.

A man enters with his child for a shave. He's in a coloured baniyaan, printed shorts and hawai chappal. Fair, toned biceps, sleek cellphone... His child is fair, like him, and is saying "Papa, papa..." every now and then. The man responds with a "Haan beta, haan beta" every time.

Cellphone rings.

Man:
Haan, kahan hai tu?
Sunn... Aaj raat ko milte hai... We're going for a party. After that...
(brief lull)
Nizamuddin mei kahin... Woh Nitu ki koi friend hai uske wahan party hai...
(brief lull)
No No No! Not Muslims...

----------------
In today's highly polarised atmosphere of "they" and "us", The Hindu and the Muslim series is a conscious effort to record, and dissect, "Hindu-Muslim encounters" (including the ones done by police) and look for patterns...

Man ka laddoo

This is a demo script I had once written for the producers of Galli Galli Sim Sim, a cartoon show on TV. Through one of the show’s characters Boombah, a vegetarian lion, this script aims to encourage children to achieve anything and everything using the power of imagination. Enjoy!

Man ka laddoo

Boombah and his friends are camping outside a sweet shop, eyeing a jar of laddoos on display. Boombah wants a laddoo but he’s got no money.

BOOMBAH SINGS:
Mein hoon Boombah
Is galli ka sher
Chakhna hai mujhko
Please… please… laddoo ek!

Boombah longingly points to the laddoos.

BOOMBAH'S FRIENDS SING:
Laddoo baitha jar mei
Gud ki chaadar saath mei
Jao Boombah jaldi jao
(smacking their lips)
Ummmmm…
Chaat chaat ke laddoo khao!

Boombah maps the size of the jar with his palm and then looks at his own giant figure.

BOOMBAH SINGS:
Jar hai kittttna chota
(Gestures at himself)
Aur mei hoon kittttna mota
Ab kaun si tarkeeb lagaun
(shows the tip of his finger)
Ke ittnnaaa sa ban jaun
(eyes shut, smacking his lips)
Aur chaat chaat ke laddoo khaun!

A fly comes in, sits on Boombah's nose. He tries to crush it but misses completely and ends up hurting himself. Boombah's friends giggle… The fly enters the jar and sits on a laddoo.

BOOMBAH SINGS:
Woh dekho choti si makkhi
Pankh laga phrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Idhar udhar udti phirti
(showing the fly’s size with the tip of his finger)
Agar ho jata uske jaisa
To laddoo khata
(dances a bit)
Phir naachta!
Gaata!
Khush rehta!

Boombah breaks into a jig; friends join in. They dance until they can breathe no more.

BOOMBAH'S FRIENDS SING:
(excitedly)
Boombah tumhari nikal padi
Laye hai hum khush khabri!
Ban sakte ho tum ittttne chote
Jaise macchar, makkhi ya titli!

BOOMBAH SINGS:
Kaise kaise… batao kaise?
Kaun si tarkeeb lagaun
Ke chaat chaat ke laddoo khaun?

ONE FRIEND ANNOUNCES:
Hoshiyaar hoshiyaar
Aankhein band karo
Sab ho jao taiyaar
(Waves a twig like a magician)
Choo mantar jadoo mantar
Sach hogi har baat
Jo hai man ke andar!!

Boombah closes his eyes and enters the imaginary world.

THE OTHER TWO FRIENDS JOIN IN:
(They all sing)
Boombah baitha dukaan mei
Man mei chaha aur
Ghus gaya laddoo ki jar mei
(Boombah is seen inside the jar eating laddoos. He is very happy)
Khata laddoo
Khap khap khap khap…
Subah shaam jab chahe
Tab tab tab!

Boombah opens his eyes. He is completely thrilled by the imaginary feast of laddoos and is smacking his lips.

BOOMBAH SINGS:
(Showing his size)
Dekho mei tha kitna mota
Man mei socha
Aur ho gaya itna chota
(Like a magician)
Choo mantar jadoo mantar
Ghus gaya jar ke andar!
Kha sakta hoon laddoo khap khapa khap…
Subah shaam jab chahe
Tab tab tab!

Boombah and his friends leave the sweet shop dancing. The jar of laddoos is now empty.

Don't point fingers, it's bad manners

Jyoti Sanyal, former dean of the Asian College of Journalism (ACJ) in Bangalore, died of a cardiac arrest in April this year.

To say that Jyoti Sanyal (centre in the photo) knew the English language inside out would be an understatement. Or to snatch an idea from his Statesman stylebook Write It Right, it would be "stating the obvious".

In my nine months at ACJ, and afterwards, I never found Sanyal stuck for want of the right word – written or spoken. I used to be as much kicked about his razor-sharp intros (scribbled in red ballpoint ink on my newswriting exercises) as his manner of speaking.

During the daily swipes that he took at English language newspapers, Sanyal never wasted time or vocabulary on unnecessary civilities. Blunt was his way. He would call a spade a spade, and often a bit more!

No wonder that quite a few of my batchmates would routinely get pissed off. Here's a rewind to the ACJ classroom of 1998, to the “vocabulary” of Jyoti Sanyal.

Shitrag – First day in class, first salvo against substandard journalism. This was Sanyal's common noun for English language newspapers. Not one paper escaped the tag.

Who wrote this piece of shit? – A question Sanyal would regularly throw at us, especially during critiques of the ACJ lab journal. Unable to explain the use of that unnecessary adjective or wrong phrase, the culprit could do little but fumble.

Face first, arse later – This had nothing to do with the human anatomy. Sanyal was merely telling us how to put names and designations in copies – always, the name first and designation later.

This is Baboo English! – “Baboo English” was Sanyal’s dig at 21st century Indian English written with a 19th century colonial hangover. The commonest example he would give was the practice of putting a "subject" in official letters. My admission application to ACJ had run with the subject "Request for ACJ admission form". The teacher in Sanyal lost no time in correcting me

Handout journalists – A reference to reporters who churned out reader-unfriendly stories from government and police handouts, ignorantly picking up and adopting hackneyed expressions and clumsy sentences along the way.

25 – The maximum number of words the intro of a copy could have. A Lakshman Rekha that we dare not cross! I started my ACJ stint with 40-word intros and steadily improved… Towards the end of the course, when I sometimes managed to say it all in about 20 words, Sanyal would don his editing hat, carefully strike off a few words and say, "It's 15 words now. What do you think? Can we tighten it further?”...

Don't put the cart before the horse – News first always was Sanyal’s mantra. Especially in legal copies where reporters have the habit of prefacing important judgements with the name of the judge.

Never point out, it's bad manners – While quoting in copies, Sanyal wondered why journalists would unnecessarily make officials and ministers "point out", "mention", “stress”, “add” or "opine" when one could simply "say" things. His take was when reporters write "so and so pointed out", they actually mean "so and so said"…

"In any case, never point out,” Sanyal would say, his index finger pointing very much at you. “It's bad manners!"

The fashionable tourist

Buns 'n' Roses

Red and White

The Rajnikanth fan, and his fan...

Style bhais

A dressing down for Shivraj Patil?

Aaj ka goonda Raj

Big Bang draws a blank