Archive for January, 2011
Wannabe tyrant Aditya Thackeray has written some third-class poetry for classical vocalist Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, who died last Sunday.
Mid Day generally publishes the poorly written thoughts of others, and surely they don’t have it in them to rubbish the future Shiv Sena leader’s poem or even question why it isn’t in Marathi.
Here’s Aditya Thackeray’s poem – with what he really means in italics.
As your voice easily soars like my uncle is soaring above his uncle
Eases stress, all worldly sores caused by us Shiv Sainiks
It takes all the turns and rounds just like the buses we set afire
Your divine voice surpasses every good around er, that’s what dadaji told me to write
Like water that calms the soul and gently caresses Ganpati idols
Like universe, that holds us and the whole UP and Bihar
With your voice a billion emotions lie the result of eating vada pav with a green chilli
A voice and prayer so true I’ve never heard your songs
Even a lie can’t lie like my lackluster buck-toothed dad
Man, Shiv Sena shakha pramukhs are in for some real drab drinking sessions.
This afternoon on SV Road, Andheri an elderly Parsee couple was trying to reason with an auto-rickshaw driver to take them to the Parsee Colony, which is on the same road, not even a minute away. Anyone could tell that the man was having trouble walking; he could barely stand, but the auto-rickshaw driver refused to listen.
The woman looked around helplessly as her husband trembled with age and rage, and just when he looked ready to collapse, a policeman appeared.
The policeman was no ordinary cop… he was a Mumbai cop.
The rickshaw driver, who had pulled over for a leisurely smoke, stuffed his packet of beedis in the pocket of his shirt and got into his 3-wheeler when he spotted the cop looking at him. Before the ‘rick dude could realize what was happening, blows were raining down on his head.
“No?”, asked the cop in Marathi. “Tuchi mai la… nako?”
The old woman looked pleased, and the old man looked empowered.
In a separate incident, three middle-aged men thwacked a rickshaw driver for refusing to take them to their destination. One of the men happened to be a beef cake, and he kicked the rickshaw driver so hard that the poor fucker flew out from the other side of his vehicle.
In 2010, Mid-Day had teamed up with Mumbai’s traffic police and done an excellent job of bringing rude rickshaw and taxi drivers to task, but many of them seem to have gone back to their errant ways despite having been heavily fined.
But Mumbai has always known there is something more result-oriented than monetary penalties.
Should a story about a man accused of stabbing a dog be grabbing headlines?
Somebody thinks so.
die are killed every day. Hens, goats, pigs, cows – they’re slaughtered every single day.
Why doesn’t a bird’s murder become news?
Is it because we don’t eat dogs?
Well, China does. Vietnam does. Korea does.
Closer home, Mizoram does.
Big deal if a man in Miami stabbed his dog.
People hack and slash and butcher animals all over the world.
Dogs and cats – how, according to you, are they different from hens, goats, pigs and cows?
And how was the accused man’s dog his?
Did he give it birth? Did he buy the animal?
And what’s wrong if he stabbed an animal he paid money for?
People kill animals and we pay them.
Restaurants serve animal flesh, and we pay them good money for it.
In fact, I take pictures of and write about the meat that I eat at restaurants, and some of you enjoy reading about these culinary experiences of mine.
Why the love for dogs?
What have “food animals” done to deserve our indifference?
Dogs taste good, too – at least, that’s what I’ve been told.
And cats taste like chicken, I’ve heard.
Should ‘news’ about a dog that got stabbed by one of us humans even be getting our attention?
We, the animals who keep our ‘food’ in confinement all its life.
Peepli [Live] has run out of luck at the Oscar race and has been thrown out. The better news is that the Vidarbha farmers are overjoyed at the fact that the over-rated film won’t get any more undue recognition.
Of course, I was the only reviewer who panned the movie, recognising how it had been falsely marketed as a socially relevant film but was nothing short of a bore-fest.
People fell for the gimmick, of course – overexcited at the idea of watching a meaningful art house flick, you all missed Antardwand, which is an artsy film that happens to be of social relevance.
Even suicidal farmers in Vidarbha have a better understanding of cinema than you.