Khosla ka Ghosla - Movie review

When I went to watch this movie I knew it was supposed to be light, charming and funny. At the end of it, that is exactly how it turned out.

The movie starts off a bit slowly, establishing the principal characters. Kamal Kishore Khosla (Anupam Kher) is a Punjabi man approaching retirement who has spent his entire life being in ‘service’ and epitomizes the classic middle class man who by virtue of having slogged it out for years in a respectable job has accumulated enough money by way of Provident Fund. His first son Chiraunjilal a.k.a Cherry (Parvin Dabbas) looks the typical MNC software engineer, complete with Allen Solly trousers, rimless glasses and in a ‘she-is-just-a-good-friend’ relationship with Meghna (Tara Sharma). Kamal Kishore and Cherry don’t see eye to eye and the older man makes some awkward attempts at bonding with his son before his typical middle class father’s ego comes in the way. Balwant a.k.a. Bunty (Ranvir Shorey), the second son is the standard Delhi wheeler-dealer who is frittering away his time. Kiran Juneja supports as the mother and there is a boyish teenage daughter to complete the family.

Kamal Kishore invests his entire lifetime’s savings into buying a plot only to find that a land shark, Kishan Khurana (Boman Irani) has grabbed it and he is expected to pay a hefty sum to get his own land back. This alters Kamal’s entire worldview and throws him into the unfair world, which he probably knew existed but had never encountered so far. Trying to appeal to the authorities and other agencies does not help him. Meanwhile, Cherry is busy trying to get a work visa for the U.S., unmindful of his father’s trauma. Bunty tries to help his father but cannot. Just when things seem bleak, Cherry steps in and the whole family hatches a plot for beating Kishan Khurana at his own game and setting things right. Do they succeed forms the rest of the story.

The storyline is fairly simple and the conflicts in it are familiar everyday situations. The charm lies in the characterization of each person. No one is black or white but comes across, as your average person whose faults can be understood when you walk in that person’s shoes. Cherry seems insensitive but is nothing more than someone who has moved away mentally from his family into another wavelength. Bunty is the Man Friday but he is limited by the experience of someone young and competence of someone not too bright. Kamal reigns in the familiar world of his family but cannot handle a new order where his son Cherry is drifting away and people like Kishan Khurana exist.

The story is of course one of those feel-good ones and while you know that the second half may never exist in the real world, you are still happy to let it play out.

The finest performances come from the land shark team lead by Boman Irani. The man is in his element playing a ruthless Goonda who cloaks his slimy interior with an even slimier exterior. His lawyer Munjal, complete with pockmarks on his face, looks the part. The Delhi flavour of the movie lingers strongly right through the movie and with its authentic Punjabi accent and mannerisms provides a welcome relief from typical Bollywood. First time director Dibakar Banerjee can pat himself on his back for this decent debut. The production values are however none too great and in some scenes you can picturise the cameraman having walked heaving the camera. But hey, it is a low budget movie.

Watch it not expecting greatness but believable ordinariness.

Cricket Match

In yet another example of team building, my office decided to hold a cricket match. The match was between the front office and back office. I belong to the front office. The team had been hobbled together from the list of people who had applied from various locations across the country. Consequently they had had very little practice.

Ar from my office had volunteered to be the wicket keeper notwithstanding the fact that his last brush with cricket had been in his previous job 3 years ago and his last brush with exercising had been at his gym a couple of weeks prior to the match when he had gone to get as much value out of a three month membership as he could in one single day. S from my office had also volunteered. Thanks to a concerted effort at diversification (We are an equal opportunities employer) there was also one woman in the team.

On the day of the match, we all landed up at the stadium. Front office was fielding and back office was batting. Ar was standing behind the wicket wedged tightly in his wicket keeper’s gear making any kind of movement almost impossible. The rest of the team was scattered all over the field (though I am sure to the trained eye it denoted strategic positions).

The match began. Within the first over it became rather clear that back office would be a bigger challenge than what we envisaged. There was fanfare all around as they hit 4s consecutively. Front office decided that some quick strategizing was in order and grouped up, discussed stuff and then split up again. The result of the next over was the same. Within sometime, we were just happy if back office scored anything less than 36 runs in one over. Our guys were rather down on stamina and refused to chase the ball unless it came within 1 foot of them. Given that the field was large, that seldom happened. At halftime the score was 105 runs at 10 overs with 2 wickets down. Someone cruelly shouted out for Ar’s benefit ‘there is a difference between the umpire and wicket keeper. Get moving’. S who had bowled the worst over in the match was much disconcerted.

A change in strategy was required. P, the woman member, was called to bowl. Man, all I can say is there has never been so much suppressed sniggering in an audience. The opposing team’s supporter began to scream out her name in an effort to intimidate her. P also got intimidated and bowled pretty badly for two balls. And then she suddenly got into shape. We finished the over with lesser runs than what had been scored in any of the previous overs. Within another two overs she was back to bowling. One of the guys from the front office smirked ‘At this rate she will the ‘man’ of the match’. Har har har. Another guy from the opposite side screamed back ‘But we still have not played. The lady from our team could be the ‘man’ of the match too’. More har har har.

All I can say is what followed must have been one of the finest moments in our office’s cricketing history. P got a player out. And then again bowled more efficiently than any of the others and ended up breaking her previous record. The commentor announced that it was not surprising since she had played state level cricket at one point. More than what most people in the match had played. What a brilliant moment for proving women can be better than men in an obviously all-male situation! At least it got the guys cracking those silly jokes to shut up.

On that high note, I decided to leave as it was evident we would lose. As it turned out, we did not lose but the match came to a draw. The heavens, taking pity upon us, let loose a barrage of rain. The back office guys honourably offered to draw the match. And everyone went home, happy and contented.

Car story

Several weeks ago, one evening I was returning from a client meeting. I was quite ravenous and requested the office car driver to stop at a nearby bakery so I could pick up some snacks. I went in and made some selections and feeling quite pleased with myself for buying the last patty before another customer could, came out, got into the car and closed the door.

At this point, things went wrong. Instead of our sweet and meek car driver, a perfect stranger turned around and boomed in an irritated and inquisitive voice 'Excuse me'. That was when I realized I had gotten into the wrong car. Both cars were golden coloured Ford Ikons and the cars were parked in a haphazard way that precluded any checking of number (Not that otherwise it would have occurred to me to check the number).The stranger was on his mobile phone and presumably that explained his less-than-articulate dialogue. Not to mention, one is usually not geared up to handle situations where strangers begin popping into your car, complete with fresh food, and make themselves at home. I could not have gotten out of the car faster if I had discovered my co-passenger was a hungry Anaconda. The office driver was meanwhile was running to me to inform me that was not our car, a fact which I had gathered with first hand evidence by then.

Well, I was mortified to say the least and kept hoping the car driver would not tell anybody this story. The most striking thing about the whole situation when I thought about it later was that it was not too good on my ego. I have been watching Indian movies since the age of 1 and Indian movies are usually of the sugary syrupy kind where when the pretty heroine enters a stranger’s car by mistake, the stranger usually mutters a ‘wow’ in a this-is-my-lucky-day tone. The heroines usually (a) react by simpering equally if the driver is the Hero (b) proudly getting out if the driver is the Hero and it is one of those hate-turns-to-love movies or (c) beating a hasty retreat if the driver is a Goonda thus providing ample chances for the Hero to come to the rescue. While I would not have liked the story to continue on the lines of a, b or c, in my heart of hearts I was always hoping that when a situation like this happened to me, the driver would turn and say ‘wow’ in a this-is-my-lucky-day tone.

Sigh. Another reality check.

Seminar story

As things go, bang after my last entry on networking at seminars, I got tossed headlong into a seminar. If you were to draw a map marking off ‘Conversational skills’ on the Y-axis and ‘Time of the week’ on the X-axis, you will notice a major dip in my personal map around Saturday mornings. Usually I am at my impolite best, trying to get over the fact that I up early on a Saturday for some work related thing and I was up late night on a Friday.

So this morning I trudged in slowly at 9 a.m. into the seminar hall to find that in a room of the sixty possible seating places, my three colleagues had chosen four consecutive chairs in the first row. The fact that they had arrived early and had voluntarily chosen these seats did not help. This immediately killed all plans I had of SMSing my friends throughout.

The first thing that happens in most of these conferences is a bladder alert fifteen minutes into the programme. For some reason organizers believe that people get their money’s worth only if they are subject to air conditioning that makes them realise what afterlife is going to be when they are tucked away in a morgue. Within the first hour you know most people are fidgeting. Coffee break is welcomed by all at this point.

At the coffee break I realised I already knew someone over there. My colleague and I agreed unspoken that latching on to this guy would be the best idea to avoid feeling guilty about not being in active networking mode. We sidled up and did the polite conversation-over-coffee thing when our acquaintance’s friend steered a seemingly innocent question into a terribly sad story about his personal life. We had asked him if he had been with this company for long and he replied in the affirmative. And added that except for the one year break he took to look after his then ailing (and now dead) father. I am a considerate person and usually feel quite sorry when I hear about personal tragedies. However I have never figured out how to handle it when strangers start pouring out their tales of woe – not in a manner of seeking comfort from another human being but for just filling up awkward pauses.

I suddenly realised that I had not actually still ‘networked’ with anyone. So promptly turning to the stranger nearest to me, I smiled brilliantly, introduced myself and gave my card. He did the same and then apologized and pointed out that as the next speaker he would have to rush to the stage for setting up his power point slides. So much for accurate spotting of potential targets.

After an hour more, the last speaker came on stage. Much as it is unfair to be judgmental about people based on their looks, my colleague and myself agreed that clearly he spent a lot of time in deep and intense personal experiences with alcohol. This had not just added bags to his eyes and jowls to his jaw but also an ‘I-could-not-care-less’ aspect to his personality. 45 minutes into his speech, he had criticized a range of things from newspapers to the finance minister. His worried co-speakers, seeing no end to his speech and a fast approaching lunch hour gestured subtly to him that he was running out of time. Our man however was in no mood for subtle gestures. He interrupted his own speech to ask if it was time and when the answer was affirmative, stopped in mid sentence, thanked the audience and sat down.

At least since it was a half-day seminar, there was nothing else to do but wolf down some lunch and leave. And that is just what I did.

If anyone is wondering where exactly did I use the skills I had pontificated about the previous time you must realise the greatest networker is one who knows when the audience is not really in his target list and conserves his energy. Ok, that bit was complete rot, but Saturdays…No way.

5 Tips on networking at seminars

The other day one of my friends called me up in a bit of panic. She was attending a seminar on the Plastics Industry in India as a part of her new job. She was thoroughly enjoying dozing through the day in her chair at the back. But she was dreading lunch hour when she was supposed to ‘network’ with people, the main purpose of her having attended the conference. Having worked in a long series of jobs not involving such public networking, she was, understandably, panicking.

Having spent more than six years in client facing roles, I have managed to pick up quite a few tips on attending such conferences and am glad to be able to share it with all my friends who may be stuck in seminars on the Plastics Industry in India in the future.

1. Be there. The main purpose of a seminar is to network and every veteran knows this. Come lunch hour, and before you can say ‘Shall we have lunch?’ you will see the cards flying thick and fast. To make use of this, all you need to do is look confident and position yourself in the busiest spot in the area (Not the food table. People are usually focused and aggressive around there). As my friend discovered, ‘they are dropping cards like confetti’

2. Time it. The best time to network is the pre-conference cocktail. People are at a loose end because the event has not yet started and if you just spend your time standing alone nursing a drink you will look like an alcoholic. On the other hand if you stand with someone else who is also nursing a drink, you will look like an industry professional. The same holds true for the pre-conference coffee in case of day-time seminars

3. Circulate. This is not as tough as it sounds. Just listen to one of the world’s silliest jokes from a perfect stranger trying to make polite conversation, and your survival instincts will automatically kick in and you make a move.

4. Catch them alone. Every conference will have at least three or four people who have turned up by themselves in a genuine effort to follow the trends in the Plastics Industry and are uncomfortable with the socializing part. Yet secretly, in order not to be branded an alcoholic (refer point 2) or a gourmand (modification of point 2), they would like someone to talk to. You may or may not find them useful in the course of your professional life but at that point in time when your boss turns around to check on how you are doing, instead of looking like a lost kid you can confidently give that quick smile that says ‘Later. I am busy talking to this guy who will single handedly give us USD 100 M of future business’

5. Stupid talk is OK. Most people are intimidated by the fact that when they actually do enter into a conversation with a stranger they may reveal the fact that they are not Nobel-prize material. Veterans will tell you that rarely do the conversations go beyond the score of the cricket match going on currently or the general inefficiency of the organiser in managing time. Then someone will crack a bad joke and everyone goes ‘har har har’ and exchanges cards and you move on (Point 3 above)

If nothing works and it is becoming obvious that the room has conspired to make you stand out like a miserable and boring loser then it is time to use your cell phone. Whip out your cell phone and have a brisk, solemn-looking conversation on it that signals to people around you that you are checking the London markets to see how freight prices have moved and whether it is time to hedge. You may not have collected visiting cards at the end of it but at least you look like you are too busy managing your current life to be bothered with getting to know a pathetic bunch of half-wits who clearly have no other business other than cracking jokes on cricket. Then put off phone with a sweeping click, smile smugly and exit into the bathroom where you can burst into tears undisturbed.