That's Ravi Bhatia

Ravi Bhatia. I don’t know his exact age. All I remember of him is energy, a bit of arrogance and an attitude telling “fuck off” to anyone trying to plant a news item. He had this uncanny gift of sniffing out the guy with vested interest. His innings was certainly not over. Yet, he said good bye to everybody yesterday. Here also he showed his bossy, haughty attitude.

Ravi was my mentor. He gave me the break of my life in The Times Of India’s New Delhi edition. And thereafter let me, in his language, fuck anyone who made news. Who made news for the wrong reasons. He was the best crime reporter of India of his time. If the cops hated him they loved him too. And the PROs were shit scared of him. Press handouts were barred in the ‘Reporter’s Room’. Any reporter getting carried away under emotions would be asked to rewrite his or her copy. Any reporter acting like an “activist” would learn that his favorite two words were “Bloody gunk”. Anyone failing to reach the spot of incident before others would have preferred not to come back to office that day. That was Ravi.

I remember when I began my reporting career, Ravi was already a star. His arrival at a press conference or a crime spot would immediately generate murmurs .. “Ravi! Ravi Bhatia has come!”. The police officer in charge would immediately head for him. Few jealous colleagues would turn away their faces. And Ravi would keep shaking his head with ‘hmms’, ‘okays’, ‘achhas’ and ‘I sees’. And next day, his copy will invariably find a place on the front page with some exclusive dopes that none of us would have had any clue of. That was Ravi.

Was he too serious a guy? Oh no .. no way. He was so much fun too. He could beat anyone with his collections of jokes. His humor often didn’t make sense but people laughed and laughed. He would not appreciate any one not smoking, not checking what alcohol tasted like or not saying yes to good food. He always had an eye for the finest things of life. Smart dressing, very articulate, well mannered though only before his seniors or a newcomer, and a very sought after man among women. Just like the cops did, women hated him and loved him while he only loved them. But things changed once he really fell in love. Perhaps, first time he thought of family, so marriage was not far even as Ravi looked for the best tailor in town to stitch his wedding sherwani. That was Ravi.

He picked up young, aspiring reporters from streets and presented them before the top bosses of TOI. It didn’t matter if they were not smart copywriters as much it did if they were not smart news gatherers or lacked in developing informers. He was seen by many as a ‘tough’ guy. But he was the softest at heart among all my bosses, and certainly a very emotional person. That Ravi will never be ‘was’ in my mind.

That's Ravi Bhatia

Ravi Bhatia. I don’t know his exact age. All I remember of him is energy, a bit of arrogance and an attitude telling “fuck off” to anyone trying to plant a news item. He had this uncanny gift of sniffing out the guy with vested interest. His innings was certainly not over. Yet, he said good bye to everybody yesterday. Here also he showed his bossy, haughty attitude.

Ravi was my mentor. He gave me the break of my life in The Times Of India’s New Delhi edition. And thereafter let me, in his language, fuck anyone who made news. Who made news for the wrong reasons. He was the best crime reporter of India of his time. If the cops hated him they loved him too. And the PROs were shit scared of him. Press handouts were barred in the ‘Reporter’s Room’. Any reporter getting carried away under emotions would be asked to rewrite his or her copy. Any reporter acting like an “activist” would learn that his favorite two words were “Bloody gunk”. Anyone failing to reach the spot of incident before others would have preferred not to come back to office that day. That was Ravi.

I remember when I began my reporting career, Ravi was already a star. His arrival at a press conference or a crime spot would immediately generate murmurs .. “Ravi! Ravi Bhatia has come!”. The police officer in charge would immediately head for him. Few jealous colleagues would turn away their faces. And Ravi would keep shaking his head with ‘hmms’, ‘okays’, ‘achhas’ and ‘I sees’. And next day, his copy will invariably find a place on the front page with some exclusive dopes that none of us would have had any clue of. That was Ravi.

Was he too serious a guy? Oh no .. no way. He was so much fun too. He could beat anyone with his collections of jokes. His humor often didn’t make sense but people laughed and laughed. He would not appreciate any one not smoking, not checking what alcohol tasted like or not saying yes to good food. He always had an eye for the finest things of life. Smart dressing, very articulate, well mannered though only before his seniors or a newcomer, and a very sought after man among women. Just like the cops did, women hated him and loved him while he only loved them. But things changed once he really fell in love. Perhaps, first time he thought of family, so marriage was not far even as Ravi looked for the best tailor in town to stitch his wedding sherwani. That was Ravi.

He picked up young, aspiring reporters from streets and presented them before the top bosses of TOI. It didn’t matter if they were not smart copywriters as much it did if they were not smart news gatherers or lacked in developing informers. He was seen by many as a ‘tough’ guy. But he was the softest at heart among all my bosses, and certainly a very emotional person. That Ravi will never be ‘was’ in my mind.

Danny Boyle ko Indian chasma kharid do

Danny Boyle Sahib seems to be very angry with all those who accused him of choosing India’s poverty in his now Oscar winning Slumdog Millionaire. Perhaps he thought he could teach them a lesson by indulging in dealing with Indian slums once again. And this time by showing something that’s not only dark but sheer perversion. Or else why would he choose Anil Bharve’s short film ‘Manjha’ to go before his own Slumdog Millionaire in the DVD. I believe DVDs of his films normally showcase a short film. Couldn’t he have picked up one from the list of other good Indian short films?

One of our promising directors, Anurag Kashyap sent him Anil’s film that shows how a constable in a Mumbai slum eventually succeeds in manipulating a three years old girl to treat his manhood like a lollypop. Anil undoubtedly is a very powerful film maker and Anurag must have had seen that. But for Danny bhaiya the film came as a boon. He thought “what an idea sir ji” to show the Indians again in poor light! Am I sounding bitchy? May be. But I am angry too. There are so many good films that are made here. Must his Slumdog DVD had to have another dog from the streets of India.

For that matter, Anurag himself loves subjects that are dark and makes films that look gritty while his characters look as real as Dilip in Gulal or Dawood in Black Friday. But his films do service to a society that he feels responsible for. Similarly, ‘Manjha’ is a good film. In fact a very good film. And its content is very real unlike Slumdog. Let Anil take his film to the world. Fine. He is an artist, a communicator and an Indian whose social awareness is above board. Anurag recommending Manjha or Anil making it is entirely different from Danny Boyle showcasing it with Slumdog Millionaire a film that has already hurt the sentiments of millions of Indians. An Oscar to an Indian musician or a Sound Engineer cannot compensate for that. If Danny bhaiya is so impressed by Anil’s work let him fund his next film ‘Tumbad’. No, for that, an Anurag Kashyap had to step in and do the job. Danny bhaiya will talk about it in his next interview to the Guardians and Times.

Like it is true that millions of us Indians live in an abject poverty it is equally true that Danny Boyles of the world single out that dark side of India and showcase before the western world. Just go to any photography site on the web and you will see that ninety per cent of India’s images portray slums and poverty. So why would Danny Boyle be any different. After all his revenues and awards too come from that side of the world. May be ha can buy a new set of glares from a store in India, then he will see India has many beautiful, positive things. Not a bad idea sir ji!

Poor response to good cinema

Last couple of weeks witnessed the release of good films like Mumbai Meri Jaan, A Wednesday, Rock On, Tahaan and The Last Lear. Of these, only Rock On got a good response from the viewers. Even as MMJ and A Wednesday got 'some' response Tahaan was virtually rejected at the box office while the collection of The Last Lear is predicted as 'Thanda'. And all this in spite of a fabulous support and endorsement by the critics in both print and the electronic media. It throws two questions - A. Does the media critics opinion matter to the viewers and B. How effective is the word-of-mouth publicity factor. I am no expert in understanding the 'trade' but as a film writer (read Tahaan), whose primary task is to tell a story and entertain the audience, feel confused at the viewer's behavorial pattern. Do they actually like a good story or they like it only when it's backed by a star. Otherwise, how come good films like Chak De India and Taare Zameen Par became such a hit against the might of hardcore commercial flicks like Patner and Welcome respectively. Both CDI and TZP had Shahrukh and Aamir Khan. So the audience rallied behind the stars and finding them to be good (films) more and more people got drawn in. Same thing happened to Jodha Akbar. If this analysis of mine is right then what made Rock On click. It has no stars. It has rather has poor singers but it certainly succeeded in stricking a cord with the viewers. Without taking any credit away from Rock On, I am at pains to figure how was the film was 'better' than Mumbai Meri Jaan, A Wednesday or Tahaan. Viewers must have found higher entertainment value in Rock On compared to the other films and thats precisely what I am trying to understand - what's quote/unquote entertainment for the audience? Does it only mean two hours of escape to a world of fantasy? I welcome my other blogger friends to help the film fraternity understand viewers better.