Tuesday, August 30, 2011

We are Malayalis, not Madrasis!

First of all, let’s get the facts right – all Malayalis do not speak with a ‘Mallu’ accent.

Secondly, those of us who do speak with an accent, speak with a very distinctive one, thaang you very much – and we don’t appreciate it when people mix it up with someone else’s.

And thirdly, in these days of Lolakutty and the whole global village mania, it’s high time the “Northies” got their facts right.

What got me on this myth busting mission? The new Idea advertisement.

I don’t have issues with the ad – It is corny, sappy and spells out its message in so much detail that any kindergarten student will get it.

What I do have a problem with is how the Malayali is made to say ‘Ram, Ram’. Listen to it on YouTube and tell me if you’ve ever heard a Malayali speak like that. A Tamilian perhaps, but not a true blue Malayali.

It’s high time that everyone who is not a south Indian realised something – we are not all Madrasis, people.

And considering there is no Madras anymore, officially speaking, maybe those north of our four borders need to be sent back to school! Brush up on that geography!

I’d like to know how a Punjabi would feel if I said he was no different from a Bihari. If I said they spoke the same language, came from the same area and looked alike, too. There would be civil war – that’s what would happen.

Coming back to the ad, I’d like to know how the ad execs do their research? Do they just throw a dart at the map of South India, pick a state to mock, and then look to the office clown to come up with inspiring lines? Or do they have a research team that actually does what it is paid to do?

I highly doubt that. And my proof: Another television ad that talks about how you can get your local channels wherever you go.

It shows a Tamil speaking man setting off for a new job – and the local channels that follow him? Those that show Kathakali and Mohiniyattam!

There’s no excuse for such blatant errors. An accent may be confused by tone-deaf people, but facts like Kathakali is a dance form from Kerala? Any high school student will tell you that.

My advice to ad execs – if you can’t invest in a good research team, then do invest in a good computer with internet access. Google is the only way forward for you.

And to the rest of you, Malayalis say Ram the same way a Punjabi or a Lucknowi would.

What we may not say the same way is: Waatch it misterr. Next time will be yourr laast time!

Review: 'Dork' is dorky, but not fun


2 March 2010

11 a.m.

I SURRENDER! I GIVE UP! I GIVE IN TO TEMPTATION!

You may wonder what happened, Diary. Well, I'll tell you exactly what happened.

There's been a buzz in the air that's been getting louder the last few days. Tweeple have been tweeting about a new 'genius' in town. The lonely black sheep and stray strawberry cows have nearly disappeared from my Facebook homepage, only to be replaced by the antics of a Mr Einstein (all you people living vicariously through this man's experiences need to get a life).

So I began asking around about this Robin 'Einstein' Varghese a.k.a. Robin Were Geese. My enquiries were met with surprise, disdain and plain hostility. It seems I had committed the worst crime in history. Being a Malayali, I had not read a fellow Malayali's book!

Oh, the horror!

Where was my sense of solidarity? So what if I hadn't read author Sidin Vadukut's blog? I should still have spent Rs 199 and bought his book to show that 'family' always sticks together.

So I forked out the cash (the exact change, mind you) and I picked up Dork: The Incredible Adventures of Robin 'Einstein' Varghese - a bright yellow paperback with an illustration that looked suspiciously like the author. Now where are my reading glasses?

11.05 a.m.

Well, it's been good and bad. The book starts out with a grammatical error in the very first sentence. Maybe Vadukut thought it would act like an evil eye. Let me see if it does its job.

11.45 a.m.

Well, I've finally met Robin 'Einstein' Varghese who's managed to land a Day Zero job with the consulting firm Dufresne Partners. With a glowing academic track record to back him (he came in 41st in his class), Varghese has thumbed his nose at "the greatest bank in the world" Goldman Sachs (who wants to work with a bunch of morons who think you are the court jester) to accept a job with the "second-grade firm" Dufresne (which, if you look at it holistically, stands "shoulders and head" above the rest, though it maybe near bankruptcy).

I'm just a few pages into the book, but it's been pretty interesting so far. The language is easy and the pace quite fast. Moreover, I'm all for delusional, self-absorbed heroes - it describes nearly all the men I've met. And the Malayalam swear words have me feeling all nostalgic.

Oh! And guess what? Dork is a series of diary entries. Seems Varghese is today's Doogie Howser and loves his laptop and MS Word! Now why does that seem familiar?

1 p.m.

Diary, I'd been warned not to read this book in public lest I embarrass myself by laughing out loud or by rolling on the floor, clutching my side, guffawing despite the stitch in my side. But I must admit that, except for the occasional chuckle (mostly at the Malayalam swear words), I haven't really done anything to embarrass myself. Che!

The humour seems to be restricted to liberally-used cuss words and Varghese overcoming every setback by deluding himself about how things are actually better the way they turned out. Truth be told, it's getting pretty repetitive. I've begun to predict how things will turn out, and most often than not, I'm spot on.

So far I've seen conniving co-workers, back-stabbing bosses, cut-throat competition, short cuts and deadlines, projects and pressure - the hallmarks of true blue corporate life. It's almost like that Madhur Bhandarkar film, but seen through the eyes of Cyrus Broacha!

The book is also chockfull of men. The few women who are introduced are mere objects to be lusted after or lampooned. Disappointed!

3.15 p.m.

Why does it seem like we are churning out only two kinds of books these days - those based on the 'real' (read poverty stricken, desperation laden) India or those based on the quirky life of the IITians and the IIM grads? Isn't one Chetan Bhagat enough?

I have several grouses with Dork: it doesn't have a single character that is level headed and rational; Vadukut is unable to sustain his humorous momentum for too long; there are a lot of slapstick situations, but very little of wit, satire or irony; the corporate jargon gets BORING after a few chapters and the jokes are too contextual, and the only time we see life outside of work is when Varghese pursues his other interest - love a.k.a. sex.

I'm planning to give this book to my friend, a teacher, and see if she gets anything out of it.

5 p.m.

I've finally finished it. Phew! What began as a quirky character soon degenerated into someone irritating and quite unreal. Drunken videos on Youtube, fellow Malayalis who are obsessed with "ass-licking" their way to the top or sending inspirational SMSes, and analysts who prepare 300-slide decks (read, presentations) for clients by copy pasting stuff off Wikipedia get very tiring, very soon. I think Dork would have made a fantastic short story instead.

And Vadukut seems to have hit a patch of writer's block at the end. He wraps up the book way too quickly and a little too unconvincingly. (However, I do appreciate the pot shots at the media - television journalists to be more exact.)

What I can't fathom is why Dork is the first book of a trilogy? I dread to think what else Varghese can get up to. Curiosity may make me want to follow his adventures, but I don't think I'll have the patience to indulge my curiosity.

Well, that's it for today, Diary. Good night.

Or rather good evening.

What would Varghese say? Hmmm. Bring on the booze and let's party? Yup!

First published on Sify.com

Jeffrey Archer: Return of the prodigal author


The son of a painter he may be, but Jeffrey Archer has led a life so colourful that if he ever pens his autobiography it may surpass his novels for sheer 'bestseller' worth. The man has lived large and lied 'large' and here's how.

He was a Member of Parliament and Deputy Chairman of the Conservative Party; he also became a life peer in 1992. But, at the same time, when he was running for Mayor of London he was charged with perjury and conspiracy to pervert the course of justice. And, like the hero of his latest novel, Danny Cartwright, he was sent to prison - the only difference being he was charged with a crime he did commit.

But nothing can ever pin Archer down. Like a true sportsman (which he is in real life), he was back on his feet and sprinting for the finish line. And, methinks, A Prisoner of Birth is only the 'bang' at the starting point.

The three Ws - where, why and who

Occasion: Author's introduction to his new book A Prisoner of Birth.
Cast: Jeffrey Archer, fans
Location: Landmark, Chennai (incidentally, the bookstore's first outlet in the country)

A 'Landmark' wait

A clearing amid regimental shelves of books. Rows of blue plastic chairs waiting expectantly. A cacophony of sound - scuffling feet; voices raised in query, irritation and excitement; the teller ringing up purchases of A Prisoner of Birth; and finally, polite applause.

I raise my head expecting to see Jeffrey Archer - the man whose books (well, Kane and Abel, at least) I used to carry around in college, both because they impressed me and because I wanted to create an impression - walk in. Instead, I see an elderly gentleman, pink in the face with embarrassment, duck his head and take a seat. The impatient audience had mistaken him for the author. Laughter ensues. And that set the mood for the evening.

When the real Sir Archer finally walks in, he immediately fills the room. The man knows how to work a crowd. He quickly gets through the expected speech - about his visit to six cities in 12 days, his pleasure at being in Chennai, and his joy at seeing a sizeable crowd - and gets to what he likes talking about, his work.

The author speaks

Archer doesn't believe in mincing words. And after innumerable such talks to the public, he can anticipate what is running through the audience's minds. So the first thing he does is drive a stake through the hearts of aspiring novelists - he describes his normal 'work' day. "I get up at 5.30 a.m. and start writing at 6 a.m. I work for two hours and then take a two hour break." He says he alternates between two-hour work sessions until 9 p.m.

"I do this for 50 days - and I have the first draft of a book. And what you write first can never be the final. You have to keep at it." For A Prisoner of Birth that meant 17 drafts and about 1,000 hours of work. Moral of the story: writing is not just a hobby to be taken up lightly; it is a full time job.

He then goes on to do what he does best: keep his fans hanging on to his every word and laughing at his every second sentence.

According to Archer, Mickey Mouse taught him one of the best lessons of life: "If you know you've got to the last question in a TV interview, keep on talking." When and why did he learn the lesson? Well, time for a flashback.

Archer had invested heavily in Aquablast, a Canadian company, which turned out to be a fraudulent investment scheme. Penniless and without a job (he resigned from the House of Commons as he was on the brink of bankruptcy), he decided to write a book. The plot: four suckers (just like Archer) who lose their money and think up devious plans to get every penny back. And so Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less came about.

Like most 'innocent' first-timers, he thought that with a book in hand, it would only be a matter of days before some publisher snapped him up. However, he says, "Eighteen publishers turned me down - this is the one record I have that is even larger than J K Rowling's. Only 16 publishers turned down her book."

But finally he was published and, though he did not become an overnight celebrity, he continued churning out books. "The real breakthrough came with Kane and Abel," says Archer. Its success in the UK prompted the publishers to look to the US and auction the manuscript to the highest bidder. And, voila, Simon and Schuster snapped up the book for $3.2 million - an unheard-of figure back then.

However, the initial exhilaration of selling his book quickly died out when Archer realised he had an uphill task in the US - no one had heard of him. And if he had to make it to the best sellers' top 15 list, he had to become a household name, and fast. And since there was no Oprah Winfrey's Book Club back then, he had to settle for breakfast television.

The first was the Today Show with Dave Hartman, who didn't much care for novelists unless they had written about sex or the secrets to 'slim' health. But there was another hitch - he had to share a six-minute slot with two others: Billy Carter (the brother of the then US president) and Mickey Mouse. While the former expounded on his beer, the latter latched onto the last question and waxed eloquent on the 75th anniversary of Walt Disney, leaving Archer with no time to talk (well, expect to comment on his experience flying on the Concord).

The result of such a 'successful' talk show: the book debuted at No 27 on the list. Another talk show, this time a radio show (where Archer was mistaken for Edmund Hillary - definitely not a good start to any interview) and the book inched its way to No 23. It finally took The Tonight Show host Johnny Carson (who said he had picked the book up and couldn't put it down until 4 a.m. the next morning) to catapult him to No 1 in under 10 days. The rest, as the cliche goes, is history.

After 30 minutes of talking (and he was quite particular about it - he kept checking his watch), Archer asks the audience to throw him their best questions. And, as expected, there are some good ones and some bad ones. A sample:

Are you inspired by Indian politics?

Ummm, no!

Will you ever write a book with an Indo-British plot line?

My next book is called Paths of Glory and it revolves around an Englishman who visits India. But that is the most that India will feature in my books. I won't trample on the toes of the brilliant writers you have here, just as I don't expect them to trample on Cambridge, London or my territory.

I read your book and I thought your characterisation of Big Al wasn't consistent. In fact, the ending...

Stop right there, sir. You cannot abuse the rights of the people who are gathered here who haven't read the book. Someone take the microphone away from him.

What is the inspiration for A Prisoner of Birth?

It is inspired by people I met when I was sent to Belmarsh prison. It is also inspired by Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. My challenge while writing this book, however, was to find an even better way to make Danny Cartwright escape and an even better way to get his revenge.

What do you think about India?

The newspapers stump me. The first six pages and the last six pages are dedicated to Bollywood and sports or to be exact, Twenty20. And any news of 'lesser' importance is squeezed in somewhere in the middle.

What do you think of Twenty20?

It's fun, but it's not cricket! But something interesting did happen. I met Rahul Dravid and he introduced me to Anil Kumble. So I shake the man by the hand, but instead of talking to me, he hurriedly punches numbers on his mobile phone. 'Hello,' he says. 'I am here with Jeffrey Archer.' He then passes the phone to me with a 'Talk to my wife. She is your biggest fan. I shall talk to you after that'.

Have you ever had writer's block?

No, never. I don't even know what that is like. I already know what my next three books will be. And every day I come up with at least three of four plots.

Mr Archer, my question (the lady unfortunately interrupts another member of the audience)...

Shush woman!

And the irreverent humour, the crisp answers and the camaraderie continue.

The last word

Night has fallen by now and Archer gets ready to sign books (after warning people not to shove, trample or hurt anyone), a proposition that will definitely take over three hours considering the winding queues and the thronging crowds. But before he sits down, he exclaims: A Prisoner of Birth is the best that I have ever written, even better than Kane and Abel.

Now that piques my curiosity. I decide I won't wait around for an autograph after all, and instead hurry home to read my copy. I do a Johnny Carson, too (I sit up until 4 a.m. in the morning), not because the book is unputdownable, but because I really want to see if it is indeed better than K&A or if it is just personal bias and some smooth 'marketing' talk. Unfortunately, I think the latter is true.

Archer's latest is just an OK read. There is none of the larger-than-life figures who brave all odds to become nation builders and breakers; none of the excitement that makes you want to keep turning the pages; none of the vision or depth. All it has is a nice story, some interesting plot lines for revenge (something I feel Archer is tops at), and some decent courtroom scenes.

There are way too many unanswered questions, contrived situations and characters just waiting to help the protagonist out of a tight spot that I couldn't digest.

So Mr Archer, if it pleases you, I'll just sit back and wait for your next to thrill me.

First published on Sify.com