THRUM WITH THE BRIDGE

Amala Muralidharan

The Master Mind

Music was a career that Govind P Menon had always dreamt of.  At the age of nineteen, when Govind left

his home for marking his name in the music world, he had no idea that he was going to build the strong ‘Thaikkudam Bridge’, we know of today - now a rage among the music lovers. Govind’s better half is his ‘green violin’ which he carries with himself wherever he goes, as a true companion. He hasn’t learnt music professionally but his experience of working with renowned musicians from the film industry, made music his cup of tea. He owes his success as a person and a musician to music composers, Oussepachan and Gopi Sundar.  Starting his career as a keyboard programmer, he later proved his talents in Super Talent too, a reality show in Kerala.  He has programmed, composed, and assisted many music directors in Malayalam, Tamil, Hindi, Kannada and Telugu. He has worked for more than 100 films till date; few movies to name are Bum Bum Bole, Aakrosh, Love ka Punchnama and Akaash Vani. “I wasn't much into studies, my father was my pillar of support and the sheer hardwork put in helped me reach my destiny” he says. Music runs in his blood as he is from a musical family.  His father, Peethambaran Menon, who was the ‘Voice of Thrissur’ in the 70’s, is also a part of the band. He is one of the vocalist and the violinist, music producer and general manager of the band. “Incredible things happen when your passion turns out to be your career, I couldn’t have asked for more”, laughs the artist. Hailing from Thrissur, this 25 year old has now become one of the most sought after music producer in the Malayalam Film Industry.

The Bridge

Flickering stage lights flashed on the gleaming young vibrant faces. Hands swarm in the air as silhouettes waving to the tune of unprecedented music. The whole place echoed with chorus voice of the audience as the charmers’ strike to ‘bridge the gap’, as the band says. ‘Music brings people together... it can change the world because it can change the people’, and Thaikkudam Bridge truely does that by bridging people all over the world. This interesting band with a very interesting name has taken the music industry by a storm ever since they featured for Music Mojo in Kappa TV last year. These rockstars have been gigging in colleges, in and around Kochi and even abroad with their breath taking performances.

The Menon brothers – Govind and Siddharth, made a home video of ‘Tum Ho’, an AR Rahman mix, which was noticed by Kappa TV, an entertainment channel. It was then that these hotshots jam-packed in a room and came out with 12 songs for the programme. They started off their journey from the Thaikkudam Bridge, in Kochi with 13 members and today it has grown up to be a big tree reaping 18 brilliant artists. Inspite of their diverse cultural backgrounds, it is the comradeship that keeps them bonded.  It was through ‘Nostalgia’, that these people sprung up to fame. “Nostalgia is nothing but an old wine in a new bottle, it’s only through these covers that we could touch the hearts of people” says Govind. Like a calm and quite brook, the ‘Nostalgia’  cover version of this band which improvises the evergreen numbers, has given the young crowd a nostalgic touch of the late 80’s and 90’s Malayalam music, it gave goosebumps to many and  has got a terrific response from people worldwide. Nostalgia is viral all over Youtube, and has created waves with more than 15 lakh viewership. The band gained popularity through the social networking sites such as Facebook and Youtube.

Their musical gamut includes Hindustani classical, romantic songs, to rock music, attempted by artists perfect in each genre.  Haq Allah, Illayraja Medley, Rahman Medley, Chekele, Thekkum Kooradiyathil, Aerials are few other covers done by them. Fishrock and Shiva are two of their original compositions. If Nostalgia was a quite one, then Fishrock sung and composed by Govind gushes like a vehement and lively creek. It has turned out to become a peppy number even among the small kids. The lyrics of Fishrock have been penned by Govind’s sister, Dhanya.  Disciples of Padmashri Ustad Rashid Khan, Krishna Bongane and Nila Madhav Mohapatra’s rendering of ‘Shiva’ are quite enticing, composed by Govind and penned by Gajanan Mitka.

Thaikkudam Bridge recently launched their website at Cafe Papaya, Kochi.  They are now getting ready to perform once again for Music Mojo and even   MTV ‘Coke Studio’, with their new original compositions. They have conquered all hearts through their covers and originals, are ready to surprise the music lovers with their venture into the film industry. Govind debuted in Malayalam film industry as a composer through North 24 Katham, in which Siddharth bagged the Best Debut Singer (Male) CERA BIG Malayalam Music Award. All the members of the band are now connected with the industry with many offers pouring in from Bollywood, Tollywood, Mollywood and Kollywood (Hindi, Malayalam, Telugu and Tamil film industries).

These stalwarts have been lucky enough to have tasted success in their transformation stage, looking forward to creating more music which would be an aural treat for their music lovers. “Our greatest reward is the appreciation we get from people, it is all that matters at the end of the day”, says Govind.

Atithi Devo Bhava - A mantra that catapult Nair to success

Entrepreneur par excellence, philanthropist, environmentalist, soldier, marketing strategist, hotelier and indomitable freedom fighter, Captain Chittarath Poovakkatt Krishnan Nair is no longer among us. He left for the heavenly abode in the early hours on May 17 at his sprawling residence in Mumbai. A few months back he was honoured with an honorary doctorate at a simple function organized at his hotel Leela Kempinski, Mumbai.

Born and brought up in Kannur, Kerela, Captain Chittarath Poovakkatt Krishnan Nair (February 9, 1922 – May 17, 2014) was the founder chairman of The Leela Palaces, Hotels and Resorts. From a young freedom fighter, then an officer serving in the Indian Army, to a pioneer in the handloom industry, and later as a major textile exporter, Nair had reached to the pinnacle of fame and success through sheer grit, innate confidence and discerning style.

Nair received his early education at a small elementary school in his native village. A natural rebel, he joined the independence struggle at the tender age of 13 and later became an officer in the Indian Army. In 1951, he resigned his commission and helped establish the All India Handloom Board. He was involved in developing and marketing loss making Madras, a hand-spun yarn from India in the United States, which met with electrifying triumph in promoting exports to America. By 2001, he was the recipient of the prestigious Golden Globe Award for the highest exports in clothing in India from The Ministry of Textiles, Government of India.

His frequent business jaunts to Europe and America had exposed him to hotels with high service standards, inspiring him to make his first forays into the luxury hospitality sector. At the age of 65, he started to build The Leela group of hotels, bringing his Indian dream to life, which today has become one of the most feted aboriginal hospitality groups in the comfort segment.

Leela hotel was launched in Mumbai in 1987. Today, The Leela Palaces, Hotels and Resorts has 8 luxury properties in New Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, Gurgaon, Udaipur, Goa, Chennai and Kovalam with new hotels opening in Noida, Agra, Jaipur and Lake Ashtamudi in Kerala. Nair’s mission was to delight and exceed his guests’ expectations through gracious Indian hospitality, known in the ancient Indian scriptures as Atithi Devo Bhava or ‘Guest is God.’

Globally recognised as an environmentalist, hotelier and visionary, Nair had been the recipient of many prestigious accolades. For his unstinting efforts in environmental conservation, he received the Global 500 Laureate Roll of Honour by the United Nations Environment Program in 1999 from Emperor Akihito of Japan.

Lauding him as a doyen hotelier, the American Academy of Hospitality Sciences honoured him with the Lifetime Achievement Five Star Diamond Award in 2009; the Green Hotelier Award by the Geneva based International Hotel and Restaurant Association (IH&RA) and the Maharana Mewar Foundation’s Uday Singh Award for “Outstanding Practical Achievements in the Protection and Improvement of the Environment” in 2002.

In 2008, Business Week, US listed him among the 50 global octogenarians who still ‘rock the world’. Recent awards in 2010 include the Hall of Fame Award at the Hotel Investment Forum India held in Mumbai and the ‘Hotelier of the Century’ Award given by the International Hotel and Restaurant Association.

Nair had also received the highest Indian civilian honour - the Padma Bhushan, from the President of India.

Modi needs to walk the talk

Narendra Modi led-BJP has emerged victorious in the 2014 national elections but the war is yet not won. He will need to personally extend his arm further to get the support of regional parties like TMC, AIADMK,BJD and even YSR Congress to take total control of the nation.

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Not having the requisite majority to get bills and ordinance passed in the Rajya Sabha, BJP will urgently need to establish a politically friendly post-poll equation, to seize complete political power in the country.   

There is belief created in the minds of Indians that in a corruption ridden country where the chief source of corruption is the erstwhile ruling coalition and their leaders, Narendra Modi stands out for his impeccable integrity. It has been written about Modi focusing his entire energy on developing Gujarat and improving infrastructures. Besides this the law and order phenomenally improved in Modi’s Gujarat. It is perceived in the media that even the daughters roam freely at midnight in Vadodara, Ahmedabad or any other Gujarati cities.

Further, his media managers have always been stressing on his achieving exceptional development and economic growth, and at the same time reinforced social inclusiveness. Through these he has worked hard even to regain the confidence of the minorities, as the persistent and insidious hate campaign against him has continued unabated in the electronic media, among the drawing room intellectuals and civil society activists, who have become the media darlings.

BJP’s campaign claimed that Narendra Modi possessed 5 Ts: — talent, tradition, tourism, trade and technology. Like its bitter political adversary, AAP, its principal plank too was combating corruption and moots multi pronged strategy to eradicate it.

Though BJP’s manifesto shrewdly focused on the economy, with measures aimed at creating jobs, promoting growth. federalism, or the sharing of powers and resources between the Centre and the states were another focus area, it is too early to confidently believe that Modi will deliver these promises with ease and in a record time.

Mod’s much touted plans on e-governance to minimise corruption at the lower levels of the bureaucracy, which deals the most with the public; a law to check malpractices in the private sector; and steps to bring back money stashed abroad illegally, is easily achievable in a highly complex system ridden badly with corruption and controlled and manipulated by middlemen. There also was mention to resort to issuing floating warrants, which will bind countries under the United Nations Convention against Corruption, to divulge information. These are the enticing subjects that endeared him to electorates, which of course appears to be more of myth and rabble mongering for influencing the gullible electorate.

The saffron party under Modi promised to remove unemployment – a tactical move to target India’s 65% voters who are under the age of 35. This ensured the votes of a large chunk of young starry-eyed electorates whose aspirations were boosted by a promise Modi will need to fulfill or face the boot even before his term ends as the prime minister.

The most important clause in Modi’s manifesto was his resolve to allow the private players into the defence production sector thus endearing industrialists and entrepreneurs which he will need to carefully push through. Modi should not forget that his political mentor Atal Behari Vajpayee’s  government was not re-elected to power in 2004 as his (Vajpayee) government’s privatization and dis-investment policy pursued by a lobby of colleagues with non-socialist leanings, led to a steep rise in retrenchment of labour force.  

Modi has ridden on the crest of public expectations, garnering historic mandates. He has to fulfill the promises before the expiry of his term. If he fails to steer clear his ship through various contentious issues the end result would be ignominy the way his predecessor has lost into. From day one Modi should take note of the stark reminder that Dr. Manmohan Singh’s political career succumbed to the twin evils of policy paralysis and corruption.

Modi should avoid political rhetoric, theatrics and criticizing his political opponents and now start working on a war footing to push India ahead on the economic front as Indians expectations have started running high from May 16,2014. We Indians mean business from the day Modi-led BJP won the polls hands down and writings are clear on the wall that Modi needs to either perform or perish.

Fashionholics Anonymous

Wardrobe malfunction would feel pretty shy in front of ‘market malfunction’ as dresses short enough to make a hooker blush is invading the youth psyche informs Jawed Khurshid

As the model Sucheta Sharma sashayed down the catwalk a couple of years ago, her left breast was accidentally exposed – although it was covered by a strapless, see-through silicon bra. Wardrobe malfunction?

The peril that is even greater than this is crouching and ready to pounce and get you. Wardrobe malfunction would feel pretty shy in front of ‘market malfunction’. Beware!  Jolly Roger is fluttering and casting ominous signal. Dresses short enough to make a hooker blush, pants that would make most women’s legs look like they’re packed in sausage casing, and bubble skirts that Dorothy could use to fly home from the Emerald City. Cool, there are many more to be presented on the platter.

Fashionista croon lullabies to more traditional attires, while the lunatic fringe has taken on the aggressive hue, established a jungle raj on the ramp. Few types of attire are so transparent that one thinks twice while using it off the ramp. Similarly, dresses bejeweled with precious stones, embellished elegantly with moti-studded (pearl-studded) frills at hems and aggressive dominance of zari on every single available patch and niche on the glittering attires like ever expanding creepers may stultify the audience flanking the catwalk but fails to take up the market by storm.

Here, it is a different ballgame altogether. Once it reaches the shelves it functions simply as decorative pieces with almost negligible selling potential. Or it simply adorns mannequins standing tall behind glass panes. Here, on the ‘ramp’ of chic shop hunters - Shopper’s Stop, Akbar Ali’s and many more it is the vibrant violet and groovy green that seduces the eye. That’s because designers pepper their shows with pieces they have no intention of ever manufacturing.

The looks are simply too labor-intensive and expensive to produce. Designers simply want their collections to echo their theories on the current direction of fashion. Style can be worn by the majority of women as long as they recognize what works for their figures. While the catwalks have long dictated the important colors, fabrics and silhouettes for a season, they also have intimidated women by showcasing styles only matchstick-thin models could consider wearing and only trust-fund trollops could fathom purchasing. Women have now become very vocal about the fact that they don’t want to be dictated to. They want to have options and they want the designers to meet their needs. 

AchalaSachdev out rightly rejected the notion that the couture marched on the ramp don’t sell. “All the clothes the designer showcase on the ramp are wearable. The designers are catering to a certain genre and not “aam junta.”

Gauhar Khan, Model says of the idea behind high profile designer clothes gathering dust, “that’s not true anymore. Earlier it was a lot about making an impact. Now it has become more consumer-oriented. If you checked out this Lakme Fashion week, 99% of the dresses are very wearable. The designers want to sell more just take a name for themselves. These days any lady would prefer picking it up obviously for the wealthier lot.”

Ask the former super model MilindSoman about there so believed commercial “non-viability and you get him furious, “it’s just not true. Designers are not stupid. The collections they design are extremely expensive” is all he chooses to say.

A nightmare!

  

It’s a revolting tale of incest where a woman had been repeatedly raped for nearly about a decade by her sibling. It’s a ten-year-long ordeal – a harrowing saga of dread, deception, defiance and a pathogenic disrespect for women’s modesty. Alas! What a beastly tale of raw incest and sexual promiscuity!  

Reti Bunder Jhopadpatti – a sleazy shantytown perched in the heart of old Mumbai snuggling Darukhana locality in Mazagaon sobs and snivels at the extreme cruelty that a sibling has committed – raped her own sister. Aslam Wahid (name changed) is a slumlord and a ‘well-connected’ don who boasts of having cordial relation with the infamous bhais of Dubai . ‘This monster has allegedly raped Mumtaz forcibly at gunpoint,’ said an acquaintance on condition of anonymity.

The misfortune befalls Mumtaz after the demise of her hubby. Reeling under awful poverty this poor woman went to Dubai as housemaid, where she worked hard for almost a decade. Her toil bore fruit and after her return to her homeland she purchased a modest flat of two-bedroom-kitchen in a relatively upmarket locality of Mumbra-Kausa. The 30 something damsel had not even in her wildest dream thought that a man, who was supposed to protect her modesty from prying eyes and lascivious pretensions of urban predators, her brother, would rape her. In a cloistered enclosure of their ancestral house – a small claustrophobic cubicle there were no one to hear her moans and wails. Repeatedly the beast outraged her modesty and the fear of ‘dire repercussion’, warned by Wahid had kept her lips sealed to this very day – thereby keeping the justice at bay. ‘On a plethora of occasions we tried to contact her but either she altogether brushed us off as she was scared of some unforeseen eventuality,’ a friend of his father lamented.

Believe it or not...!!!

By Jawed Khurshid

The world is littered with bizarre incidents odd enough to push us in nail-biting spree.  At times we find ourselves amidst strange riddles difficult to fathom. The real life tale which I’m narrating is extremely terrible and you are advised not to read this alone in your bedroom, else I would not be held responsible for any eventuality. Circa 1977: I was merely eleven year old then. I happened to visit Karachi, a happening port city of Pakistan along with my mother and siblings at the invitation of my maternal uncle who has now migrated to Canada after the hate mongers and religious zealots unleashed  pogrom against a minuscule peaceful minority, the Ahmadiyyas (they call us Qadyanis). There I heard a strange story which was hard to digest.

 A couple of hours away from Karachi, on a broad highway that links the port city with other major cities of Baluchistan province, such a terrifying incident occurred that had made our hair stand on end. On a chilly 11 December’s night, at 11 PM a cabbie was negotiating through the serpentine track amidst swathe of dense wood and hills in his yellow Toyota . He was mumbling some pushto song and was seemed to be in a pleasant mood. As he reached a U-turn, he was greatly surprised to find a gorgeous damsel draped in spotless white shalwar-jumper (clothes girls used to wear) standing erect at the middle of the road waving her hands desperately to stop the cab. As his eyes gingerly moved towards the girl’s forehead an unknown fear overwhelmed him. The fresh blood was oozing from her forehead as if she had met with an accident a couple of minutes back. Two thin rivulets of blood was formed which ran through her face all the way to her slender neck and ultimately merged with her satin across hercollar bone, making large crimson patch behind the left shoulder.

 Fear gripped him and various lacerating thoughts started haunting him time and again. Had she met with an accident? What was she doing here at this hour? As he drew closer his leg spontaneously pressed on the brake and with a sudden jerk the cab ceased to move a few feet away from the girl. She walked past the driver and opened the back-door and sat comfortably without mincing a word. Gathering his courage the cabbie asked, “Bibijiaapkokahanjanahai? And he wavered, “Is waqtaapyehankiyakarrahinhain? (Where would you like to go? and what are you doing here at this hour?)” She didn’t reply; simply waved her hand in a direction supposedly she would like to proceed. Now the driver was completely gripped with nervousness; broke out into a cold sweat and found that his movement was not under his control. After driving on the highway for a couple of minutes the girl waved her hands towards left and the cabbie was immensely frightened to find that the car turned sharply towards the left on a kachcha path (non-metallic road) strewn with grey pebbles inside the deep wood without his effort. He started shivering with trepidation. The cab moved on the jerky path and after few minutes reached before an old haveli (mansion) and stopped.

 The castle-like house seemed to be abandoned for years. She got down as silently as she had boarded the cab indicating with her hand asking him to stay there. He thought that she might have gone inside to bring fare. Initially he was hesitant to stay there even for a second but some unknown force paralyzed his movement. After half an hour when she failed to come out, he frighteningly came out from his cab and knocked one of the moth-eaten doors through which feeble light was coming out through the cracks that had developed in the door. A very old man holding lantern came out and asked him for the reason of his visit there and that too at that hour. He said that he was waiting to get his fare and narrated the entire event. Multiple lines of pain appeared on old man’s face and he brought the lantern towards the photograph of the same girl hanging on the dusty wall and asked, “Were you talking of the same girl? He nodded in approval. “She died years ago at the same spot in a road accident from where you were saying she boarded your taxi. And no other soul except me stays here.” His words fell like a ton and in a fit of nervousness he jumped inside his car and drove madly towards his house. After parking, he went inside his room, bolted the door and slept. The very next day he was found dead.

It is yet another strange but hair-raising incident that happened in a small town of Bihar – Bhagalpur , far back in forties. A student of a local college, on one unfortunate day, had left the movie theatre and was on his way on shank’s pony to his house in the dead of a night. As he was passing through the middle of the mango orchard he saw something glistening there. A mixed feeling of joy and fear overwhelmed him. But the joy for having discovered an abandoned treasure had overcome the fear of ghostly trap and he decided to get it before other could notice it.  Spontaneously, his body gave a jerk and he moved towards the shining object. An unknown feeling of joy had put him on cloud nine. As he drew closer and approached the place where it was lying he was astounded to find that the thing which was shining brightly was not gold but carcass of a human hand – all bones and no flesh. The fear-stricken boy screamed out in terror. He swiftly galloped away from the place and ran fast on the bushy lane to be fortunate enough to hear the tap-tap sound of a Tonga driven by a horse from the rear. As it came closer, the boy without thinking for a second jumped on it - shivering and profusely sweating with fear. The kochwan (driver) asked about the reason for his nervous state. He mumbled everything before him. When he reached his place and was about to pay the fare, the kochwan spread his hand out and asked, “Babu is terehkahaanththakya?” (Sir, was that hand resembled mine?). Lo! The boy saw the same skeletal hand being spread before him and an enigmatic smile spread acrosskochwan’s face which looked more ominous in the dim light. With a shriek the boy threw the coins at him and ran towards his house. Puffing and panting, any how he reached his house where he was staying with his old aunt. She showed concern and asked about his fear. The boy narrated everything before her. The aunt jocularly asked, “Beta, is the hand which you saw resembled mine? She said by moving her hand towards him. Behold! The boy experienced the same bony hand and without uttering a word died.

Believe it or not but the people here believe this as the real incident which had forced the then collector to put ban on the night shows in the town. The ban continued for many years even after independence and was lifted only in mid-sixties.

NOSTALGIA

Dev’s journey to eternity

The Romeo of fifties, sixties and seventies who burnt silver screen and captivated audiences with his seductive performances - throwing them into trance-like-state, is no more amidst us, leaving a big void …   

DevAnand, the sensation of Indian cine-goers, heartthrob of teens and bleary-eyed girls whose eternal charm hypnotized audiences with his ceaseless hit numbers, Jayegakahan, kaunhaiteramusafirjayegakahan… (Guide, 1965), Mai zindagikasaathnibhatachalagaya, harghamkodhooainmeinudatachalagaya… and gripped audiences cutting across three generations, a feat that none of the present breed of actors have able to accomplished, till date, had left for heavenly abode.

Anand, a thespian par excellence, stood tall amongst multitudes of actors of his time andpart of iconic triumvirate – Dilip Kumar, Raj Kapoor and he himself, had led the fashion industry to a new high, much ahead of the reigning craze then. A style icon, the Churchill cap and cigar image of the legend still captivate us.

‘Romancing with Life’ was his narration of a chequered career that spilt over into more than five decades. On the occasion of its release in 2006 at his residence, a scribe asked whether the thespian had mentioned the flirtatious side of his life too, the much incensed Dev reminding the young girl of her age said that his grandfather must had been one among his fans. Such was the demeanor, the debonair Dev used to elicit off-screen.  

Born in September 26, 1923 as DharamDevPishorimalAnand in Gurdaspur district of the then undivided Punjab, the youthful love bird left the temporal abode at 88, after a coronary arrest, far away in London on Dec 3.

If Dilip Kumar enjoyed the image of a jilted lover in many of his movies with dropped jaw and drooping eyes, Raj had relished a carefree desi socialist image; unlike his two equally charismatic contemporaries, Dev was unaffected by any stereotype. He played forlorn lover in Guide, his masterpiece, ambiguous gambler in Baazi (1951) and a cop in CID (1956), thus proving his immense comfort-level for any role which he was asked to essay. This reflected the versatility of the youth icon.

The Gregary Peck of Indian Cinema, on whom he modeled himself, catapulted many to stardom. ZeenatAman, Tina Munim, Jackie Shroff and Tabu are the prominent faces that reminisce of the veteran artist’s talent-hunt skills.

The demigod, too, hogged limelight for his certain ‘unsavory’ acts that affects most in this light and action world. Dev, too, was no exception to this. His proximity with ZeenatAman and few other lass had still remained a clandestine affair - unexplored and undiscovered.

Married to KalpanaKartik, the thespian’s son failed to make any headway into Bollywood, a setback that the departed actor never mentioned in any press meet as well as in his much acclaimed autobiography.

His dream project, a sequel to his seventies hit, ‘Hare Rama Hare Krishna’, had failed to take off as the neo—Zeenat was nowhere to be found.