I have moved

I have moved my blog. All of my future posts will be posted here. 

Thanks for visiting.

Moved to the following address: http://vishal12.wordpress.com/

What I Took Away From Aamir (Movie)

What a movie! Direction (by debutant Raj Kumar Gupta who assisted Anurag Kashyap in No Smoking), Cinematography (by debutant Alphons Roy), Performance (by debutant Rajeev Khandelwal), Music (by debutant Amit Trivedi), Editing (by Aarti Bajaj) - all are top notch.

This post in not a review. (There are many good reviews available online.) It contains my personal interpretations about the message that the movie tries to convey. There are spoilers, so if you haven't watched the movie yet, don't read this post.

--------------------------------------------------------

There's a lovely song by Eddi Reader "It's Not What You've Been Given, It's What You Do With What You've Got". (Listen to it here, it's really beautiful.)

And that is precisely what, I think, the central theme of the movie Aamir is.

"Kaun Kehta Hai Ki Aadmi Apni Kismat Khud Likhta Hai?" is the tag-line of the movie. The answer lies in the movie, in the final scene, to be more precise.

When the kidnapper tries to preach Aamir and tells him about the difficulties that Muslims face in India, Aamir shots back at him and asks who's stopping them to break the social and economic barriers and make a decent living? After all, as his argument goes, he himself is one of them (i.e. a muslim) and became a doctor in spite of living in the same discriminating society! Although Aamir loses that verbal debate, he, in the end, wins the ideological debate. Aamir could have left that bomb in the bus as he was asked to do, but he chose not to. In that sense, however limited his options were, he finally chose his destiny. He chose not to become a terrorist and kill innocent people. (That's the only thing he does willingly in the entire movie.)

This message could be easily extrapolated into the realms of our society. There are many poor, oppressed, discriminated against, subjugated people, but not everyone chooses to take the wrong, negative or destructive path (of robbery, violence, terrorism etc.). However, some do opt for baleful ways to either take revenge or in order to end their misery. But (as I've pondered over before here) that can cause a vicious cycle of hate and retributions that can eventually have cataclysmic results for the society.

The circumstances might limit the number of options that are available to you. But it's YOU who finally makes a choice.

The main character is aptly named as Aamir (which means leader). In the entire movie, he had to do what he was forced to do by the kidnapper, but in the end, by doing what he could do (and wanted to do in the given circumstance), he became a true leader. Leader of his own fate, who led his life to a respectable, noble and courageous end.

Satya - The First Mumbai Noir Movie

It's been 10 years since Satya redefined the way Bollywood "looked" at Mumbai underworld. It established a new genre in Bollywood - Mumbai noir. Before Satya most of the movies in which the protagonist has a negative character, showed us an honest, non-violent, Mr Nice Guy, who has a lovely middle class family, a nice girlfriend and lives a simple happy life. Then something really unfortunate and "unexpected" happens and it takes everything he loved away from him (or put it in jeopardy). Hence, he is left with no other choice but become a goonda to take revenge or to save his helpless family. 

Satya gave us a break from all that cliched nice-guy-harassed-by-society-and-becomes-a-bad-guy theme. Here the protagonist enters the underworld as if he is trying to find a purpose in his life! 

We're not even told why Satya came to Mumbai or where he came form. Does he have some skeletons in his closet? Does he have a family somewhere? Did he deserted them or did his family threw him out? Why? We don't know. It's irrelevant. The movie is not about what happened to Satya, it's about what happens to Satya after he comes to Mumbai. And probably that's what made Satya more interesting - the mystery and strangeness that revolves around him. (Director Ramu toys along with the audience about this. Satya is asked many times about his past and his family, but every time, we get vague answers. "Kya faraq padta hai?" is his reply when Bhiku asks him where he came from. "Mar gaye honge shayad." is what he tells him when he inquires about where his parents are.) We see Satya staring blankly at the ceiling of his tiny flat, and outwards from his window. We wonder what he is thinking about. Perhaps there's nothing but a vacuum, which will be soon filled with his next door neighbor, Vidya.

While his new friend Bhikhu teaches him how to operate a gun, Vidya teaches him how to smile and love. Satya learns both skills with ease, but we know that he is better at the former. He is simultaneously driven to two separate paths, one can lead to destruction and the other to happiness. Both Bhikhu and Vidya needed Satya. Bhikhu is a hot-tempered don who is no more than a puppet in the hands of don-turned-politician, Bhau. And Vidya is frustrated from her continuous struggle to make a living as a singer in an industry where "Kucch paane ke liye kucch khona bhi padta hai". Satya completes Bhiku, the don of Mumbai underworld, as he helps him make strategic decisions.("Hamara fayda unke dar se hai, unki maut se naheen.") And he also completes Vidya who finds a friend and companion in Satya.

Many dialogues in this movie are aptly written and executed in such a way that it leaves an impact on the audience. ("Ek Jaayega, to sab jaayenge.", "Mauka sabhi ko milta hai.", "Karna hai, to karna hai.", "Kasai bhi bakra tabhi katta hai jab log use khaate hai. Sirf KAsai pe kyon ungli uthaate ho?" etc.) There are some scenes in the movie which exemplifies Ramu's genius as a director:

- Satya's first murder

- Satya's attack on that hafta-wasooli guy with a razor blade

- The sweet scuffle between Bhikhu and his wife

- Bhikhu's proclamations as "Mumbai ka don" on a seashore rock facing the city (excellent location)

- Amod Shukla's murder and Khandelkar's reaction

- Satya's escape from the theatre

- Bhau's murder, Mule's murder

- The final scene

The mood of Satya composed by Sandeep Showta is one of my most favorite movie themes. Ram Gopal Varma once said that Sandeep Chowta understood the character of Satya more than himself. All main characters are well defined and well developed. Chakravarty as Satya was a very good choice. The character of Satya needed a new face because strangeness was the main essences of his character. The character grows on you in the movie. Just like the other leads in the movie (Bhikhu, Vidya, Bhau etc.) the audience also looks as Satya as a stranger. The audience learns more about Satya as the other characters in the movie learns more about him. (Contrast this - choice of actor - with the choice of Ajay Devgan to play the character of Malik in Ramu's other underworld saga - Company. There was no time for building the character of Malik in this movie as the movie was more about the 'events' rather than the 'characters'. So Ramu needed an established actor whom the audience can take seriously from the very first scene.) And then there's Bhiku Matre. Manoj Bajpai convinces you that no one could have played the role of Bhiku Matre better than him. 

After Satya, there have been many more Mumbai noir movies that followed its footsteps. But any movie that's based on Mumbai underworld is going to have some inspirations from Satya. In that sense, Satya is to Bollywood what Godfather is to Hollywood.

Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na and Ada - Initial Reaction

I have been listening to Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na and Ada since last two days, and here're some of my initial thoughts:


Kabhi Kabhi Aditi is a catchy, light and peppy number. I loved it in the very first listen (on the promos). Although Rashid Ali did a commendable job and his voice suits well to the movie's young and fresh look, I wish Rahman had given this song to Adnan Sami. I think this song belonged to Adnan. (Isn't Rashid Ali's singing seem to have inspired from Adnan?) The rationale behind not using Adana though is probably that they wanted to have a new voice for the new face (i.e. Imran Khan) - at least for this 'opening' song.


Rahman has re-used one of his own tunes for this song. The mukhda of Kabhi Kabhi Aditi is same as the guitar interlude in Mustafa Mustafa song from the movie Duniya Dilwalon Kee. I am actually glad that he has done that (i.e. re-using one of his tunes from the interludes of his own song). There are many song by arr which has wonderful instrumental (or chorus) interludes that can be used to create a mukhda of new song (The violin interlude in Ae Ajnabi, Swarnalatha's humming in Sunta Hai Mera Khuda, chorus from the starting of the song Naheen Saamne etc. etc. etc.)


Jaane Tu Mera Kya Hai conveys the melancholic mood effectively. I liked the version sung by Sukhwinder more than the one sung by Runa Rizvi (which is also very good), mostly because of the opening music/tempo and the operatic chorus in the background that takes it to another level.


Pappu Can't Dance has a very catchy tune and feet-tapping beats. However, I don't think it's gonna be one of those songs that I will yearn to hear in a way I feel about most (or at least, so many) of arr's songs.


Abbas Tyrewala has done a good job as a first time lyricist (His earlier work includes dialogues for Munnabhai M.B.B.S.). I really liked that he used the immortal lines 'Papa Kehte Hain Bada Kaam Karega', giving a nod to Aamir Khan's first movie: Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak. (JTYJN is Aamir's nephew Imran's first movie.)


Moving on to the other album released simultaneously with JTYJN - Ada.


Rashid Ali's pronunciations in Ishq Ada sounded a bit weird to me. I think he tried to add an Arabic/Middle-Eastern element to the song - the lyrics, heavy on Urdu words, also confirms this (I hope there's some relevance to that in the movie.)


All songs except Ishq Ada and Meherbaan are written by Nusrat Badr. I was excited to see his name on album cover because I loved his work in Devdas (after which he almost disappeared). But honestly, I didn't find anything extraordinary in his lyrics this time.


Gumsum Gumsum sounds infinitely ordinary (by arr standards). If Ada is a musical journey by arr, then this surely is the worst destination. Tu Mera also belong to the same category. (The lines 'Jise Chaha Mil Gaya' sung by Chitra reminded me - both lyrically and musically - of similar lines 'Tu Mujhko Mil Gaya' from Tera Jaadu Chal Gaya. Vague similarity, though.)


Meherbaan is wonderful and instantly likable. Hai Dard and Milo Wahan Wahan both are, for the lack of better word, interesting - both in structure and sound, very unlike-Rahman, I think (and hope, even more so) these ghazal-like songs has some 'growth potential'. Rahman has rarely used Sunidhi before (in fact, only once in Nayak) who joins Sonu Nigam in Gulfisha - another song that didn't really impress me.


Overall I am disappointed with Ada, and enjoyed JTYJN. As it's universally known, arr's songs (specially the "heavy", deep and long-lasting ones) need repeated hearings and some time to grow on you. Being an ardent arr fan, I hope that it will happen this time too, and my initial assessments will be proven wrong. But deep down, I am skeptical!

Mumbai or Bombay?

 

Vir Sanghvi writes about Marathi chauvinism in his recent column in HT. Now, I don't always share his opinions, but this article looks interesting to me. Here's an excerpt:

[W]hether we like it or not, Bombay is not an ancient Indian city in the sense that, say, Delhi is. It is a colonial creation. There is no record of any city on the site of Bombay before the Europeans got here. 

That explains the name. It is generally believed (though there are other theories) that the word 'Bombay' comes from a Portuguese phrase which means beautiful bay. This was later anglicised — when the city passed to the British — to Bombay. So Bombay is not a Maharashtrian name. In fact, it is not even an Indian name. And that's because the city did not exist before colonisation.

So where did 'Mumbai' come from? The general view is that it is a corruption of 'Bombay'. Indians have a tradition of corrupting city names when we use them in different Indian languages.

There are no references here, but the proposition confirms what I knew about the origins of the names.

 

One can think of many such "corruption" of city names in India. Like (as Sanghvi mentions in this article) Ahmedabad, is commonly and informally spoken of as Amdavad by Gujaratis. But no one claims that Amdavad is the "proper" term, and everyone refers to it as Ahmedabad in writing. Bangalore is probably another such dialectical modification of the original name: Bengaluru. 

 

Burma  is another example that comes to mind. John Wells (a professor of Phonetics) wrote about this in his blog: (link)

As we all know, the ruling junta in Burma would prefer that we call their country Myanmar. In Burmese, this name Myanmar is essentially just a variant of the name Burma. It is transliterated as Myan-ma or Mran-ma, and in the local language pronounced something like [ma(n) ma], as against [ba ma] for the traditional name.

 

According to Wikipedia: Within the Burmese language, Myanma is the written, literary name of the country, while Bama ... (from which "Burma" derives) is the oral, colloquial name. In spoken Burmese, the distinction is less clear than the English transliteration suggests.

 

Coming back to the Indian context, it looks like politicians are, once again, using this "purification" campaign to incite junta and thus earn political dividends. It looks like the Marathi manoos is falling for that, and the politicians are winning in their unstoppable zest of attaining and exploiting power, once again.

Competitive Intlerance

The Delhi High Court has sent a strong message against competitive intolerance by disposing off charges (of offending religious feelings)  against the renowned painter M. F. Hussain. 

Here are some excerpts from the verdict by High Court Justice Sanjay Kaul:

“In a free and democratic society, tolerance is vital. This is true especially in large and complex societies like ours where people with varied beliefs and interests mingle."

“India’s new Puritanism, practised by a largely ignorant crowd in the name of Indian spiritual purity, is threatening to throw the nation back into the Pre-Renaissance era.” 

“Criminal justice system should not be used as an easy recourse to ventilate against a creative act.”

“Art and authority never had a difficult relationship, until recently...Our greatest problem today is fundamentalism, the triumph of the letter over the spirit.” [source]

I cherish each and every word quoted above, and hail this verdict by Justice Kaul. I do feel that our society should become more tolerant and learn to appreciate the fundamental rights of freedom of speech and expression. As I have argued earlier (here), I believe that protecting the fundamental right of freedom of expression should be one of the main goals of a liberal, democratic and morally healthy society.

Many examples come to mind while we're on the topic of cultural intolerance: Banning Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses (India was the first country to do so), trying to get cheerleading banned from IPL, burning the movie theaters that showed the movie Fanaa after Aamir Khan made a controversial remark about those unfortunate displaced families, filing police complaints against Mallika Sheravat for wearing a provocative dress in a function - are just some of the many such incidents.

What's different in M. F. Hussain's case though (from the above mentioned and many other such examples) is that this was actually a communal/religious fervor & hatred wearing a mask of cultural intolerance. Justice Kaul didn't address this facet of the charges in his well-worded verdict (I couldn't find a full transcript, so I am speculating from the quotes I read so far.) I wonder if such charges were filed against a Hindu (let's say for drawing a cartoon of prophet Mohammed), would the court had been able to mete out justice in similar fashion? May be not! But that doesn't mean that the M. F. Hussain verdict is wrong. You can't fight intolerance with intolerance, right?

Socialism in India

It's not surprising, if a bit unsettling to some, that many of the freedom fighters got attracted to the lure of socialist ideas for nation building while dreaming for an independent India. Socialism was like the Spirit of the Age in pre-independence India. It was Karl Marx, the father of communism, who inspired many Indians through his writings during the Russian Revolution.

Bal Gangadher Tilak was among the first Indian freedom fighters to praise Marx's philosophy and the Russian communist revolutionary Lenin. Subhash Chandra Bose, the fascist leader of the Indian National Army, had inclinations towards authoritarian means for creating a socialist nation. He thought of Soviet Union as a role-model-nation for India and believed (post WW II) that democracy would not work in a country like India. He had major disagreements with Gandhi's non-violent methods for attaining independence, and was an advocate for a violent resistance. [He was elected as the president of Indian National Congress for two consecutive terms, but resigned because of his ideological differences with the Mahatma.]

Another revolutionary, Bhagat Singh, was also attracted to the Marxist principles of revolutionary Communism. After becoming the leader of Hindustan Republican Association, he changed its name to Hindustan Socialist Republican Association in 1928. Like Netaji, he also believed that a vast and diverse country like India could survive only under a socialist government. He wrote in his letter to the Governor of Punjab “Till Communist Party comes to power and people live without unequal status, our struggle will continue. It cannot be brought to an end by killing us: it will continue openly as well as secretly.” 

In the famous statement on June 6, 1929, Bhagat Singh said, “The whole edifice of this civilization, if not saved in time, shall crumble. A radical change, therefore, is necessary and it is the duty of those who realise it to reorganise society on the socialistic basis. Unless this thing is done and the exploitation of man by man and of nations by nations is brought to an end, sufferings and carnage with which humanity is threatened today cannot be prevented.” [source] 

On the other end of the political spectrum of pre-independence India, the Indian National Congress also believed in the socialist idea and set it as a goal for free India. Nehru, the first prime minister of independent India adopted socialist practices for industrial and economic development as well as for social reforms in India. While many argue today that the liberalization should have taken place as early as the 70's (as opposed to the 90's), it remains a topic of debate whether implementing free market economy right after freedom could have been a wise alternative to 'centralized planning'.

The National Planning Committee (NPC), which was set up in 1938, was in charge of deciding economic policy for India that was soon to be free. The NPC took lessons from Russia and Japan where state intervention was needed and helped tremendously to annul the effects of late industrialization. This 'late industrialization' effect was even more prevalent in India which had been under colonial rule for over 200 years. So the NPC suggested "service before profit" policy, and notably the private sector agreed with this strategy.  In 1944, a group of leading industrialists published A Plan for Economic Development for India (which was later known as the Bombay Plan), in which they expressed the need for state intervention especially in  energy, transportation and infrastructure. These capitalists concurred that, positive and preventive functions of the state are essential to any large scale economic planning in the early stage of industrialization. 

During the Emergency of 1976, the word socialist was added to the preamble of the Constitution of India:

WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, 

having solemnly resolved to constitute India into 

a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC and to secure to all its citizens:

JUSTICE, social, economic and political;

LIBERTY of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;

EQUALITY of status and of opportunity;

and to promote among them all

FRATERNITY assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation; [link]

(Emphasis is mine.)

Even after India has shredded off its socialist ideals in 1991, when the prime minister Narsimha Rao and the finance minister Manmohan Singh, introduced economic liberalization which spurted a tremendous economic growth in last couple of decades, India continues to be described a socialist republic in the preamble to the constitution! [Several months ago, the SC surprisingly refused to entertain a petition which urged to remove the word socialist from the preamble.]

Atheism and Agnosticism

There is a common misconception about the definition of atheism. Many perceive an atheist as someone who believes that God does not exist (i.e. there's no God.) -- which is not necessarily true.

Let's consider the term theist first. A theist is someone who believes in the existence of God. He believes that there's a God. If you think of this particular belief (there's a God) as a metaphysical entity, then this entity exists in the mind of a theist. While in an atheist's mind that belief simply does not exist. Note that this does not necessarily mean that an atheist believes that there's no God. A belief that there's no God is, another metaphysical entity, which might or might not exist in an atheist's mind.

There are two possible opposites of belief  (1) disbelief, and (2) absence of belief. The first one is active denial. While the second one is a mere passive position. Normally when one hears the term atheist, they think about the 1st position (i.e. disbelief in God). Position (1) is called active (or strong) atheism, while (2) is referred as non-theism. I think it's fair to lump (1) and (2) together and tag both positions as atheism. But it's important not to forget that an atheist can belong to either (1) active atheism, or (2) non-theism. Active theist affirms the non-existence of God, while a non-theist rejects theism. 

So while theism (and hence atheism) is about belief. Agnosticism, on the other hand, is about knowledge. A person who knows for sure that God exists is a gnostic. And a person who doesn't claim to know whether God exists or not is an agnostic.

Contrary to common understanding, a person can be both: a theist and an agnostic, a believer without claiming to know for sure if God exists or not. Similarly you can be an atheist as well as an agnostic. In fact, being an agnostic  can be a reason why someone is also an atheist (i.e. he lacks the belief, because he's not sure.) 

On religious subjects, the only world religion that's firmly agnostic - Buddhism - is of Indian origin. A particular school of thought in Buddhism, called Theravada, a predominant religion in Sri Lanka, is actually non-theist. In Hinduism too, the Carvaka philosophy of skepticism and materialism (also known as Lokayata), which originated in the 6th century, is classified as a nastika (i.e. atheist) system. Jainism also rejects the beliefs in a personal creator God.

Amartya Sen has explored the heterodoxy of Indian religious beliefs in his fascinating book The Argumentative Indian. I take the following passage from his book: The so-called 'song of creation' (or the 'creation hymn', as it is sometimes called) in the authoritative Vedas ends with the following radical doubts: 

Who really knows?

Who will here proclaim it?

Whence was it produced?

Whence is this creation?

The gods came afterwards, with the creation of this universe.

Who then knows whence it has arisen?

Whence this creation has arisen -

perhaps it formed itself, or perhaps it did not -

the one who looks down to it, in the highest heaven,

only he knows -

or perhaps he does not know.

[From Rigveda. English translation by Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, in Rigveda: An Anthology.]

The Last Mughal

The Last Mughal is yet another laboriously researched and wonderfully written book by William Dalrymple. William is an Indophile, who previously authored two excellent books: The City of Djinns and White Mughals. He is fascinated by the old city Delhi and all his three books reveal quite intriguing, obscure and forgotten details about the city that served as the capital for two of the biggest empires that ruled India - the Mughals and the British. The city was also the primary center of the Great Mutiny of 1857.

What's most interesting to me in this book is the first-person accounts of what happened on the streets of Delhi ere, during and after the Uprising. Utter chaos took over the city as the mutineers started looting around (the members of the wealthy class being their first target). As the situation grew worse after people realized Zafar's inability to stop the havoc, many seized this opportunity to settle old scores and satiate their lust. After Delhi fell under British attack, hell broke loose when the revengeful army officers went on a killing rampage. "The punishment for mutiny is death." was their motto, but they didn't even spare the lives of innocent civilians who were mere observers (albeit most wished for british defeat). During the Uprising, the mutineers had violently massacred numerous British officials and civil servants not sparing the lives of their wives and children. This created a strong desire for vengeance among the victorious army officials. The army rummaged and plundered houses and havelis in search of any valuables they could find. The violence rumbled on for weeks and the city was deserted after many were killed and those who were alive fled the city. Delhi became a necropolis.

William Dalrymple intensively researched previously undiscovered sources like the Mutiny Papers, the National Archives of India, Delhi Commissioner's Office Archives, Delhi's principal newspapers of that time (Dilhi Urdu Akhbar, Siraj ul-Akhbar, Delhi Gazette &c), National Archives of Rangoon (where Zafar spent his final days as a British State Prisoner). We read letters written by British officials to their wives and siblings that often oscillate between emotional outbursts (on seeing poor civilians being killed inhumanly) and brave proclamations (for being able to take revenge for the innocent British families that were butchered by mutineers). There are excerpts from diaries written by Englishwomen, army officers as well as celebrated Delhi personalities like Ghalib (the famous poet who was a member of Zafar's durbar). All together, this creates a throbbing picture of the indescribable cruelties that took place in Delhi. The letters, editorials from newspapers, government documents - all are very subjective accounts, but you have to appreciate William Dalrymple who tries to be as objective as possible and gives us information from both sides: British and Indian, both of which played the roles of 'the cruel' and 'the victims'.  

Bahadur Shah (II) Zafar's precarious and helpless position at the dawn of the Mutiny and also after their defeat is explored in this book as never before. By 1857, the Mughal dynasty was on a steep decline and the British Company, of whom Zafar himself was a pensioner, was already on the rise. When the mutineer army from Meerut came to Zafar to get his blessing, the enfeebled 82 year old king had no other option but to give in to their rather forceful demands and hesitantly declare support for the Uprising. This finally led to his imprisonment after Delhi fell to British army, and the British court charged Zafar with "rebellion, treason and murder" in a trial that lasted more than 8 months. The primary contributor to the defeat of mutineers seem to be the lack of central authority, which Zafar was supposed to be providing. But the octogenarian, who was a sufi poet by heart, could do very little except expressing his dismay at the looting of the city residents by mutineers and their arrogant disrespectful behavior to the emperor himself. "The king was like the king on the chessboard after checkmate." Above is a photograph (perhaps the only one) of the Last Mughal taken after the his trial in 1858.

Bahadur Shah II Zafar, the last Mughal King, the descendent of the great world-conquerers Chengiz Khan and Timur, died quietly without any fuss, as a British State Prisoner in Rangoon in 1862. A week after his death the British Commissioner Captain Davis wrote to London to report what has passed, adding:

The death of the ex-King may be said to have had no effect on the Mahomedan part of the populace of Rangoon, except perhaps for a few fanatics who watch and pray for the final triumph  of Islam. A bamboo fence surrounds the grave for some considerable distance, and by the time the fence is worn out, the grass will again have properly covered the spot, and no vestige will remain to distinguish where the last of the Great Moghuls rests.

Few factoids from the book: 

• The mutineers were called "Pandees" in Colonial British slang. The name derived from, as you might have guessed, Mangal Pandey who was the first sepoy to rise against the Company. And "Tommies" was a generic slang for a british soldier at that time.  
• Although they are commonly believed to be written by Zafar, it's unclear if he really penned the fantastic and rather melancholic ghazals (1) "Na Kisi Ki Aankh Ka Noor Hoon" and (2) "Lagta Naheen Hai Dil Mera" (both wonderfully sung by Mohammed Rafi in movie Lal Qila). 
• Zafar, the pen-name of Bahadur Shah II,  means "Victory", which is quite ironic since he is widely perceived as a "loser" and associated with one of the greatest defeats in Indian subcontinent.
• Ghalib was among the few Muslim survivors left in the city. In his muhalla, Ballimaran, also lived some senior courtiers  of the British loyalist Maharaja of Patiala, who sent troops and supplies to British army during the Siege. Because of this, the Britishers did not raid Ballimaran and Ghalib escaped the massacre.
• The Sikhs were keen recruits in the British army. They fought two vicious wars with the British but this was probably outweighed by the hatred on the Mughals who martyred two of their greatest gurus - Guru Arjan Dev and Guru Tegh Bahadur. 

Size does matter!

My favorite drink at Starbucks is Tazo Chai Latte (No Water, No Foam, Extra Hot). Most of the time I use the terms small, medium and large to suggest the cup size in which I would like to ingest my Tazo Chai Latte.

The Starbucks' naming convention for small, medium and large sizes, as we all know, is: Tall, Grande and Venti. This, I utterly dislike. Why can't they just call it the normal way? What's the rationale behind inventing a new measurement system? (Apart from being different.)

Dave Barry, who writes a periodic (Ask Mister Language Person) in The Miami Herald, expresses his disagreement quite humorously here:

[...] Unfortunately, we consumers, like moron sheep, started actually USING these names. Why? If Starbucks decided to call its toilets ''AquaSwooshies,'' would we go along with THAT? Yes! Baaa!

Recently, at the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport and Death March, Mister Language Person noticed that a Starbuck's competitor, Seattle's Best Coffee (which also uses ''Tall'' for small and ''Grande'' for medium) is calling its large cup size -- get ready -- ''Grande Supremo.'' Yes. And as Mister Language Person watched in horror, many customers -- seemingly intelligent, briefcase-toting adults -- actually used this term, as in, ''I'll take a Grande Supremo.''

Listen, people: You should never, ever have to utter the words ''Grande Supremo'' unless you are addressing a tribal warlord who is holding you captive and threatening to burn you at the stake. JUST SAY YOU WANT A LARGE COFFEE, PEOPLE. Because if we let the coffee people get away with this, they're not going to stop, and some day, just to get a lousy cup of coffee, you'll hear yourself saying, ''I'll have a Mega Grandissimaximo Giganto de Humongo-Rama-Lama-Ding-Dong decaf.''

Amen!

By the way, talking about cup sizes at Starbucks, only recently I discovered that Starbucks also have Short size cups (smaller than the Tall size). They don't advertise Short size on their price boards, which has prices for Tall, Grande and Venti size cups only. Below is the liquid content of each size:

Short = 8 ounces
Tall = 12 ounces
Grande = 16 ounces =1 pint
Venti = 20 ounces

Considering this, the Grande makes some sense as it corresponds to 1 pint. And Venti actually means twenty in Italian, so there's some sanity in calling it a Venti. But what's the logic behind Tall? It is named "Tall" because it's taller than the smallest size? If so, I find the logic quite absurd, and non-intuitive when there are two other sizes available that are taller than Tall itself.

I am going to stick with the Small, Medium and Large. Let Starbucks call them whatever they want.