Delhi swings to the 95 FM beat

It's been only a month since 95 FM was test-launched in Delhi by a firm called Clear Media. And this new radio station has already created a buzz for its non-stop hits sans pesky ads and tiresome RJs. You heard that right - no ads for XYZ home loans, no RJs who just don't know when to stop jabbering. Just plain ol' music.

Have no idea how long this state of bliss will last. Et tu will have to succumb to the pressures of commercialism. Till then, am making the best of the situation and answering that inevitable query - "Are you 95ing tonite?"

Btw, this is not the first blog post on 95 FM. On August 7, blog diva eM had this to say about the new Mirchi for Delhiites -

Ooh, a brand new radio station that I love (95 fm, whose is it? what is it? why are they playing such excellent music?) is doing wonders for my ego. Wonders.

A couple or more of similar radio stations and I will give up my cassettes and CDs. Wotsay?

Update:
Aren't you addicted to Hit 95 FM yet?

KANK is no KA(LA)NK

Bloggers have trashed Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna and Jabberwock's review especially says it all.

But I actually liked KANK. So kill me.

Maybe I am partial to the Karan Johar genre of escapist NRI cinema. Maybe I just love three hours of big stars, fabulous songs and designer outfits. Er...maybe I just have a teeny-weeny crush on Preity Zinta.

Abhishek Bachchan was particularly impressive as Rani's charming boy-husband and also effortlessly matched Daddy Bachchan's charisma in the Rock and Roll song sequence. Watch out SRK, the Junior B might just steal your thunder.

Preity had a similar amount of screen time but pales in comparison to the Bachchan duo and Chandigarh (l)ass Kirron Kher.

But the film could have done with some better editing in the second half. It was a tad too long with little comic relief. Who wants to watch a cynical SRK and Rani cry their heart out when they could have more of happy-go-lucky Abhishek and pretty Preity instead.

(Warning: Spoilers follow)

However, KANK's ending made up for all its shortcomings. Audiences had a sneaking suspicion Johar would play safe and make the love-struck couple return to their spouses. But as the 200-minute epic draws to a close, the director boldly flings aside the dictates of conventional cinema.

Lovers SRK and Rani finally end up together albeit after a three-year "punishment" for their "original sin" - making merry in bed while their spouses Abhishek and Preity are dancing away to Where's the party.

KANK (pronounced like BANK not SKUNK) has even forced Chidanand Rajghatta to sit up and take notice in his TOI column(though for NRI-related reasons)

Word from box-office gurus in America is that KANK raked in USD 1.4 million over the weekend, beating the previous record of USD 1 million set in 2001 by Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, a similarly syrupy, low-brow, KJo effort

Which means Karan Johar is doing something right. Let me just tell audiences and critics alike - KANK may not be a Schindler's List but it's certainly no KA(LA)NK either.

Osian's Cinefan: Some afterthoughts

There's something to be said for officially reporting on a film festival. You can shush the pesky security guard with your snazzy media card and flash your Nokia 8210 in a no-mobile zone. Not to speak of the umpteen opportunities to get up, close and personal with the likes of Konkona Sen Sharma.

But I would rather be a 'regular' guy. The kind of person who waits patiently in line for a chance to get acquainted with the best of cinema. The kind of person who spends hours lounging in the hallowed interiors of Siri Fort Auditorium. The kind of person who...well, you get the idea.

The 8th Osian's-Cinefan film festival in New Delhi last month was no different. But with the added attraction of a plethora of premieres this time around.

I would have loved to laze around on the steps, taking in a surfeit of Asian cinema from dawn to dusk. But since I was 'covering' the film festival, I spent time balancing office shifts with press conferences and one-on-ones with the glitterati (or should I say the arty).

And lost out on the film-watching marathon.

But it wasn't a total loss. I did manage to catch 4.5 films in between. Among them was Naseer's directorial debut Yun Hota Toh Kya Hota - a film that managed to pack the auditorium like never before.

The others were NRI director Varun Khanna's American Blend, newbie filmmaker Ben Rekhi's LA thriller Waterborne and the Bangladeshi film Ontarjatra (Homeland).

And what of the film that I left midway? The festival's closing film - Jafar Panahi's much-feted Offside. No, I wasn't bored. I had to file the closing ceremony and awards story in record time. Sigh! The travails of a news agency journalist.

Among other highlights - Rituparno Ghosh speaking on why making a black-n-white Dosar was an experiment he was loath to repeat and of course Saudi Arabia's first ever feature film. Director Izidore Musallam was optimistic that Keif Alhal would be a trendsetter in the conservative Kingdom.

Guys I would like to switch places with

Jai Arjun aka Jabberwock and Nikhil Pahwa aka Mixed Bag. They seem to have spent forever at the film fest.

But Head-Butt Kyon Kiya?

Well, we solved the mystery.

Matterazi asked Zidane -

"Hum Chlormint Kyu Khaate Hai?"

Update Some Chinese guy has gone and registered Zidane's notorious headbutt as a trademark. More here

Aliens watched World Cup too

At least that's what The Times of India wants you to believe. Its July 11 editorial says that 32 billion people watched the 2006 World Cup.

Now, since the earth's population is only around six billion, I assume the daily conducted a survey in nearby galaxies and found that the 26 billion aliens on planets Zzor, Bimbor and Galifa were also ardent fans of the game.

That's not all. The editorial also talks about the record four red cards in the England-Portugal tie. Mr Know-nothing-about-the-World-Cup-and-still-writing-TOI-editorial should kindly take note that the four red cards were issued in the infamous Portugal-Netherlands match.

There might have been more bloopers in the piece but I was so disgusted I didn't bother to finish it. Wotsay?

My experiments with Orkut

You know you are obsessed with Orkut when you check it even before you check your email. Yes, I have become one of those orkutting weirdos.

The internet community website seems to be making a strong comeback with several people I know making a beeline for Orkut last month.

I first joined it a couple of years ago at a time when few in India had heard about it. In fact, I remember telling a friend about it and him thinking Orkut was some kind of fish.

Those were pioneering days for Orkut in India. Disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm for what was obviously such a brilliant idea, I quit. I soon forgot my username-password and Orkut became just a distant memory.

In February this year, persuaded by a friend, I rejoined Orkut. Things didn't work out again. Friends and acquaintances did not respond to my invites to join, thinking it would be a waste of time. The Orkut search did not turn up any long-lost schoolmates. I quit.

Things perked up only in June when a friend forced to me give Orkut a third and final try. I logged in with my Gmail id and Voila! It worked. Almost everyone I knew was finally online and I was actually getting scrapped.

Orkut in India was inundated with users in June, a fact which remains inexplicable. But I am not complaining. Go ahead, give Orkut a try. It really does work.

Am tagged again - Help!

Thanks for nothing SIB

I am thinking about how long it's been since I had a cup of coffee at Barista

I said... I think therefore I'm online

I want to... write a novel before I die. Seriously

I wish... Tumblers of Hot Chocolate Fudge were a dime a dozen

I miss... carefree days at IIMC, Delhi

I hear... John and Bipasha are breaking up over Mallika

I wonder... if girls are attracted to hunks or geniuses or a combo of both

I regret... not being a Hrithik Roshan lookalike

I am... going to kill SIB for tagging me

I dance... when no one's looking

I sing... in your dreams

I am not always... the nice guy I'm made out to be

I make with my hands... well, nothing. I can't lie too much, can I?

I write... a lot of stuff I shouldn't be writing

I confuse... Confucius and Confucianism

I should try... spending more time with my pet fish Oliver

I finish... packets of biscuits in 60 seconds

Now I punish Friendly Ghost, Jhansi ki Rani and One Fine Day by bestowing upon them this tag.

Paternal Instinct

I have inspired several friends and acquaintances over the past few years to try their hand at blogging. Some gave it up almost instantly while others have diligently stuck to it.

But my biggest achievement was getting somebody from my own family to take up this pastime. Yes, ladies and gentleman, please welcome my sixty-something just retired Dad to the blogosphere.

It's too early to say whether his blogging mania will last a day, a month or all eternity - which is why I am not allowed to publish his blog address here.

But be that as it may, I am proud of you, Dad. Which brings me to my next question - when are you getting Mom into the blogger fold?

Most embarrASSing moment

It's funny how school-leaving 'slam books' would invariably have a column on Most Embarrassing Moment.

Since we were on the verge of bidding farewell to people we might never see again, my classmates left it blank - some because they hadn't gone through an embarrassing moment and others (like me) because it would have been much more embarrassing to reveal it.

But were the same question asked of me today, I would answer it without hesitation. And since no one has bothered to quiz me yet, I decided to blog about my most embarrassing moment till date.

Which is -

Brushing my teeth with shaving cream

Now don't smile and shrug it off. This actually happened. And it wasn't even my tube of shaving cream.

The incident took place some years ago while I was doing my Masters in English from Hindu College. Some of us had gone down south for a leadership training camp in Kazipet (Andhra Pradesh) and clumsy nitwit that I was, I forgot to pack my toothpaste.

My roomie gave me permission to use his stuff and I proceeded to brush my teeth. Then almost puked.

T: What the hell is this stuff?
Roomie: You stupid ass! It's shaving cream
T: But...Bluh...Bluuuhhhhh
Roomie: It's written in big bold letters. How can anyone mistake shaving cream for toothpaste?
T: (grimace) The pack's the same colour as my toothpaste

Being the bosom friend he was, Roomie promptly went and informed everybody in camp. And for the remaining two days in Kazipet, I had to endure being called 'Shaving Cream' and listen to animated discussions on my unusual dietary habits.

I know what you are thinking - "This is nothing, there was a rip in my wedding dress" and of course Carol Gracias must be saying "I wish I had made that slippery buckle a bit more secure" but what can I do?

Nothing more embarrassing than the shaving cream incident has happened to me. And I will certainly tell you if anything happens in the future.