I had written earlier about TOI's Lead India campaign, criticising them for the hoardings they had put up all over Mumbai. In hindsight I don't blame them, in this country right now, everything from cars to paints and chocolates to sanitary pads are being sold by cricketers or Bollywood stars, or occasionally, both. So why not an initiative such as Lead India. On the plus side, their TVC is a delight to watch. Here's the link.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Monsoon clouds over Kerala
Here are some pictures taken while driving through Kerala, just before the monsoons hit. I was there on an assignment and we were travelling from Calicut to Ezhimala. There was no time to stop, so all of these have been shot from the car, while on the move.
Oh so un-fair!
There is this strange obsession Indians have with fair skin. I should know, I spent most of my growing up years thinking that I was ugly, and feeling somehow inferior to cousins and friends who were fairer. Even now the feeling hasn’t completely left me, I still take compliments with a pinch of salt, but atleast it no longer has anything to do with the colour of my skin.
I don’t know where I picked it up from, for we had no such discrimination in the family. I guess it was, as it still is, the larger perception in society that had fed my insecurities. Sadly this continues to be the case, now more than ever before, and taken to new heights by the aggressive advertising by rival cosmetic companies.
Cosmetic products, like any other consumer products, need to constantly redefine themselves, with better packaging and catchier by lines, even if the basic message remains the same. The most widely selling face product in India are ‘fairness’ creams, products that promise to make you fairer over a period of time. So while this ‘get fair skin’ theme has remained a constant over the years, the advertising for such products has had to come up with new and innovative ideas to emphasise its importance. The latest in this series, currently on air, is the Pond’s White beauty ads (here are links to episode 1 and episode 2).
Now this is not a simple ad. It’s a series of ads, that apparently has a name, the ‘novella’, and a definite storyline. It is episodic, with one episode released every fortnight. The first time I saw it, I thought it was a promo for a film, given its cast, (popular Bollywood actors Saif Ali Khan, Priyanka Chopra and Neha Dhupia) and production value (its very slick, shot like a Karan Johar film) and Pond’s was just riding along. It took me a while to realize it was a short film showing on TV, in small capsules, specifically to advertise a product by Pond’s. Talk about big budget advertising!
The product is a fairness cream that claims it can transform your skin to a ‘pinkish white’ (or a ‘pale white, you choose’.) I am stumped by this claim. Though I must admit I admire the audacity. Can you imagine pinkish white Indians?!
What makes me write this post however, is neither of those two sentiments. It is instead a sense of alarm. The ads are really well done, and the stars are current favourites. Even a skeptic like me can see how well it will be received by the general public. (I would not be surprised if this series is a big hit, and leads to a number of such ‘novellas’ in future.) The implications of such a success are, to my mind, frightening.
Such reckless and irresponsible advertising is nothing new. But irresponsible advertising that is also effective and successful is certainly something to guard against. Question is, how?
I don’t know where I picked it up from, for we had no such discrimination in the family. I guess it was, as it still is, the larger perception in society that had fed my insecurities. Sadly this continues to be the case, now more than ever before, and taken to new heights by the aggressive advertising by rival cosmetic companies.
Cosmetic products, like any other consumer products, need to constantly redefine themselves, with better packaging and catchier by lines, even if the basic message remains the same. The most widely selling face product in India are ‘fairness’ creams, products that promise to make you fairer over a period of time. So while this ‘get fair skin’ theme has remained a constant over the years, the advertising for such products has had to come up with new and innovative ideas to emphasise its importance. The latest in this series, currently on air, is the Pond’s White beauty ads (here are links to episode 1 and episode 2).
Now this is not a simple ad. It’s a series of ads, that apparently has a name, the ‘novella’, and a definite storyline. It is episodic, with one episode released every fortnight. The first time I saw it, I thought it was a promo for a film, given its cast, (popular Bollywood actors Saif Ali Khan, Priyanka Chopra and Neha Dhupia) and production value (its very slick, shot like a Karan Johar film) and Pond’s was just riding along. It took me a while to realize it was a short film showing on TV, in small capsules, specifically to advertise a product by Pond’s. Talk about big budget advertising!
The product is a fairness cream that claims it can transform your skin to a ‘pinkish white’ (or a ‘pale white, you choose’.) I am stumped by this claim. Though I must admit I admire the audacity. Can you imagine pinkish white Indians?!
What makes me write this post however, is neither of those two sentiments. It is instead a sense of alarm. The ads are really well done, and the stars are current favourites. Even a skeptic like me can see how well it will be received by the general public. (I would not be surprised if this series is a big hit, and leads to a number of such ‘novellas’ in future.) The implications of such a success are, to my mind, frightening.
Such reckless and irresponsible advertising is nothing new. But irresponsible advertising that is also effective and successful is certainly something to guard against. Question is, how?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Walking around in fading light...
... on the roads of south Mumbai, rushing from an exhibition to a screening, I couldn't help but stop a few times...
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Mumbai local
My friends keep asking me why there are no pictures on my blog. A cinematographer, and only writing? I my defense I say, well, I am more than just a cinematographer. But they do have a point, so here goes… a few pictures on one of my favourite things about Mumbai, the local train.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
A minor issue
I had one of ‘those’ arguments with a friend (let’s call him X) yesterday. The kind that I’ve had with myself an umpteen number of times, and in which somehow or another I am not able to defend my stand convincingly, not even with myself.
So here’s how it started. We are on our way back home and take the local train. We decide to stand near the door. The train starts, gives a jerk and starts again to pick up speed. The whole thing is over in a matter of seconds, but for us it is the beginning of a conversation that lasts for most of the 20minute journey.
The jerky start reminded me of a thought I had sometime ago on a similar journey, when I was forced to travel during rush hour. Rush hour traveling in local trains in Mumbai is a nightmare, especially for someone not used to it. Apart from the obvious discomfort of traveling in a train packed beyond capacity, there are the unwritten rules and etiquettes of train travel that separate you from the regular crowd, so that to the seasoned eye you stand out like a sore thumb. I have stopped trying to fight this, I no longer try to blend in. I am an outsider and refuse to be apologetic about it. But that’s a subject for another post.
So on this particular occasion, I was standing near the window, in the space between the seats. This is the best place to be if you are traveling a long distance, because you can stand in one place, and nobody asks you to move right or left or further, and you don’t get jostled around when people behind you try to make their way to the door. However the problem with standing here is that there are no overhead handles to hold on to. So you end up holding onto the grill in the window or maintain balance with a hand flat against the wall. But mostly, and especially if you have a reasonable sense of balance, you end up standing with your feet a little apart. This is what aggravated my problem that day.
What was my problem? My problem was the jerky start. Every time the train started from a station, it started with a jerk and then at least one more before it began a smooth pick up. I might have noticed this before but it stayed at the back of my mind. On that day however, I was forced to think about it at length, because of how I felt every one of those jerks in my knees. On that day, given that I was traveling from Borivali to Churchgate and there are 19 stations along the way, that’s a good 19 times in the space of about an hour. I’m not saying that I have bad knees, or that the jerks were so bad that my knees started hurting. I’m just wondering about the men and women who do this every single day.
Local train is the lifeline of the city of Mumbai, its chief and most convenient mode of transport. I am definitely a fan, and that has as much to do with the efficiency with which it is run, as it is to do with my leaning towards public transport in general. Every day millions of people travel by local trains, to work and back. And they do this for years on end, possibly all their lives. And given how crowded trains are at rush hour, there are about twice or more, people standing as there are sitting. Imagine the number of jerks, however small, an average pair of knees goes through in a day, and then a week, month, year and so on. I’m no expert, but I would imagine it would be doing some amount of damage, especially as one grows older.
How difficult can it be to start a train more smoothly, to be more careful, in the interest of all those passengers? I have a feeling it’s not impossible, it’s just that the drivers have not thought about the damage they might be doing. It’s a matter of expertise for sure, but it’s not an expertise that cannot be developed. It’s just that nobody has pointed out to them that they need to develop it.
And that brought me to my next observation, how is it that something like this has not been looked into? Or has it been, and I don’t know about it, in which case I stand corrected. But of all issues that I have read about concerning public transport in the city, and specifically local trains, while the quality of travel has been discussed, and new trains are being designed, this particular concern has never even been voiced, let alone addressed. Is it that nobody has noticed? Is it that nobody has noticed because we have got accustomed to accepting things as they are, grateful if they are going even half right, and attempting to improve only after something goes drastically wrong? Is it something to do with our very attitude as Indians? Is it related in however indirect a way, to our complacency about all the deaths in accidents related to local trains? If human life can be of such little consequence, surely human comfort has no place in our minds and our busy schedules.
This was pretty much the argument offered by X. He asked me to look around me, at the people traveling with us. Did they care about a measly little jerk? Unlikely, I admit. The average Indian, and certainly the average Mumbaikar, has a thousand other things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that he is perfectly aware of how much worse it can be. After all almost everyone has traveled by State transport buses, on rural roads at some point or another in their lives. Compared to that, the local trains in Mumbai are sheer luxury.
And herein lies my confusion. I know X is right, but I believe, so am I. Just because things could be worse, are indeed, much worse in most of the country, should not mean that it is improved where there is scope for improvement with minimal effort. Just because the common man has learnt to accept his plight with such resignation, and for so long, that something like this doesn’t even occur to him anymore, should the experts continue to ignore these apparently minor issues?
Is the collective damage to millions of pairs of knees every day a minor issue, and thinking about how things can be made more comfortable for them, such a waste of time for officials and experts designing and running our public transport now and in the future?
Was it a waste of time to even have written this post?
So here’s how it started. We are on our way back home and take the local train. We decide to stand near the door. The train starts, gives a jerk and starts again to pick up speed. The whole thing is over in a matter of seconds, but for us it is the beginning of a conversation that lasts for most of the 20minute journey.
The jerky start reminded me of a thought I had sometime ago on a similar journey, when I was forced to travel during rush hour. Rush hour traveling in local trains in Mumbai is a nightmare, especially for someone not used to it. Apart from the obvious discomfort of traveling in a train packed beyond capacity, there are the unwritten rules and etiquettes of train travel that separate you from the regular crowd, so that to the seasoned eye you stand out like a sore thumb. I have stopped trying to fight this, I no longer try to blend in. I am an outsider and refuse to be apologetic about it. But that’s a subject for another post.
So on this particular occasion, I was standing near the window, in the space between the seats. This is the best place to be if you are traveling a long distance, because you can stand in one place, and nobody asks you to move right or left or further, and you don’t get jostled around when people behind you try to make their way to the door. However the problem with standing here is that there are no overhead handles to hold on to. So you end up holding onto the grill in the window or maintain balance with a hand flat against the wall. But mostly, and especially if you have a reasonable sense of balance, you end up standing with your feet a little apart. This is what aggravated my problem that day.
What was my problem? My problem was the jerky start. Every time the train started from a station, it started with a jerk and then at least one more before it began a smooth pick up. I might have noticed this before but it stayed at the back of my mind. On that day however, I was forced to think about it at length, because of how I felt every one of those jerks in my knees. On that day, given that I was traveling from Borivali to Churchgate and there are 19 stations along the way, that’s a good 19 times in the space of about an hour. I’m not saying that I have bad knees, or that the jerks were so bad that my knees started hurting. I’m just wondering about the men and women who do this every single day.
Local train is the lifeline of the city of Mumbai, its chief and most convenient mode of transport. I am definitely a fan, and that has as much to do with the efficiency with which it is run, as it is to do with my leaning towards public transport in general. Every day millions of people travel by local trains, to work and back. And they do this for years on end, possibly all their lives. And given how crowded trains are at rush hour, there are about twice or more, people standing as there are sitting. Imagine the number of jerks, however small, an average pair of knees goes through in a day, and then a week, month, year and so on. I’m no expert, but I would imagine it would be doing some amount of damage, especially as one grows older.
How difficult can it be to start a train more smoothly, to be more careful, in the interest of all those passengers? I have a feeling it’s not impossible, it’s just that the drivers have not thought about the damage they might be doing. It’s a matter of expertise for sure, but it’s not an expertise that cannot be developed. It’s just that nobody has pointed out to them that they need to develop it.
And that brought me to my next observation, how is it that something like this has not been looked into? Or has it been, and I don’t know about it, in which case I stand corrected. But of all issues that I have read about concerning public transport in the city, and specifically local trains, while the quality of travel has been discussed, and new trains are being designed, this particular concern has never even been voiced, let alone addressed. Is it that nobody has noticed? Is it that nobody has noticed because we have got accustomed to accepting things as they are, grateful if they are going even half right, and attempting to improve only after something goes drastically wrong? Is it something to do with our very attitude as Indians? Is it related in however indirect a way, to our complacency about all the deaths in accidents related to local trains? If human life can be of such little consequence, surely human comfort has no place in our minds and our busy schedules.
This was pretty much the argument offered by X. He asked me to look around me, at the people traveling with us. Did they care about a measly little jerk? Unlikely, I admit. The average Indian, and certainly the average Mumbaikar, has a thousand other things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that he is perfectly aware of how much worse it can be. After all almost everyone has traveled by State transport buses, on rural roads at some point or another in their lives. Compared to that, the local trains in Mumbai are sheer luxury.
And herein lies my confusion. I know X is right, but I believe, so am I. Just because things could be worse, are indeed, much worse in most of the country, should not mean that it is improved where there is scope for improvement with minimal effort. Just because the common man has learnt to accept his plight with such resignation, and for so long, that something like this doesn’t even occur to him anymore, should the experts continue to ignore these apparently minor issues?
Is the collective damage to millions of pairs of knees every day a minor issue, and thinking about how things can be made more comfortable for them, such a waste of time for officials and experts designing and running our public transport now and in the future?
Was it a waste of time to even have written this post?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Bhutan Diary 10: The Punakha Dzong
Our next stop was the Punakha dzong. Dzongs are forts that used to be political and administrative centres. Some dzongs still function as government offices, and almost all functional ones also have shrines and monks residing within the premises. The Punakha dzong is beautiful, and this being our first visit to one, we didn’t know what to expect. We were stunned and awed into silence.
Here I shall let the pictures speak. They were not shot for the purpose of this blog, so they’re far from adequate. But they still speak way more than any words of mine possibly can. Suffice to say that we spent way more time here than we intended to, and dropped the idea to travel to the Wangdue Phodrang dzong.
I could however mention one little thing here. In one of the rooms on the first floor, we found a shrine. This is different from the one in the picture. Those were huge idols in a big hall. This was a lot more modest, a room with a shrine, and a monk quietly at work. He was making one of those decorative pieces with multicoloured concentric circles that we had seen in every temple we visited. We were curious about it, but the monk did not seem to speak Hindi or English. In fact he didn’t seem interested in speaking at all. What was really interesting was the material he was using, it seemed like white butter. That’s what made it so soft and easy to mould. He mixed it with colours (don’t know what he used for colours, but I could see coloured sticks lying around) to get the pastel shades. He would squeeze out a small piece from the coloured balls he’d made, and work it into a circle with his fingers. He made several of these in different sizes and colours. And then he put them together one over another in decreasing size. They stuck easily. And then would attach it to the main sculpture he was designing with a toothpick.
I wanted to stay awhile longer, spend sometime by the clear green water, but it was getting late. As I mentioned earlier, drivers in Bhutan don’t like to travel after dark, and sure enough the traffic reduces considerably as the sun goes down. We went back to Punakha town to see if we could find some more passengers to Thimphu. While the driver scouted around, Ramya and I looked for something to eat. But it was too much to ask for a sleepy little town like Punakha. One small restaurant that we found had a fixed menu that they were serving at that hour, and it was non-vegetarian. Being vegetarian really can be a huge disadvantage in some regions.
The driver hadn’t found any passengers, so we left, an uneventful drive back to Thimphu. How I missed Toshi!
Here I shall let the pictures speak. They were not shot for the purpose of this blog, so they’re far from adequate. But they still speak way more than any words of mine possibly can. Suffice to say that we spent way more time here than we intended to, and dropped the idea to travel to the Wangdue Phodrang dzong.
I could however mention one little thing here. In one of the rooms on the first floor, we found a shrine. This is different from the one in the picture. Those were huge idols in a big hall. This was a lot more modest, a room with a shrine, and a monk quietly at work. He was making one of those decorative pieces with multicoloured concentric circles that we had seen in every temple we visited. We were curious about it, but the monk did not seem to speak Hindi or English. In fact he didn’t seem interested in speaking at all. What was really interesting was the material he was using, it seemed like white butter. That’s what made it so soft and easy to mould. He mixed it with colours (don’t know what he used for colours, but I could see coloured sticks lying around) to get the pastel shades. He would squeeze out a small piece from the coloured balls he’d made, and work it into a circle with his fingers. He made several of these in different sizes and colours. And then he put them together one over another in decreasing size. They stuck easily. And then would attach it to the main sculpture he was designing with a toothpick.
I wanted to stay awhile longer, spend sometime by the clear green water, but it was getting late. As I mentioned earlier, drivers in Bhutan don’t like to travel after dark, and sure enough the traffic reduces considerably as the sun goes down. We went back to Punakha town to see if we could find some more passengers to Thimphu. While the driver scouted around, Ramya and I looked for something to eat. But it was too much to ask for a sleepy little town like Punakha. One small restaurant that we found had a fixed menu that they were serving at that hour, and it was non-vegetarian. Being vegetarian really can be a huge disadvantage in some regions.
The driver hadn’t found any passengers, so we left, an uneventful drive back to Thimphu. How I missed Toshi!
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