#bangla boi down

[eppysboys]

Interview with Nancy Lee Andrews, March 2008 for 'Daytrippin'.

Daytrippin’: Let’s start from the beginning. When did you first meet Ringo Starr?

Nancy Lee Andrews: I met Ringo on a Monday afternoon in May 27, 1974.  John had rented actor Peter Lawford’s infamous Santa Monica beach home where he and May Pang hosted many get-togethers. Girlfriends and wives were cooking in the kitchen and kids were swimming in the pool.  It was a family get-together, rock ‘n’ roll style.  A seat was offered to me at the poker table and I found myself next to Ringo.  He was so charming, playful, witty and cute as hell. He might have had sad eyes, but they were twinkling at me that day.

Two months later, I got a call from May, who announced she and John were back in town.  They shuttled back and forth between New York and Los Angeles so I kept their funky ’68 Barracuda in my garage.  She asked me to bring the car to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and we would hang out and have some dinner.  I knocked on the door to the suite expecting to see John or May, but Ringo answered instead.  It took me by surprise and I said, “Oh, hello.”  Ringo smiled and said, “I remember you… you’re my poker partner!”

After we exchanged flirtatious pleasantries, we headed down to Sunset Sound Studios where Ringo was working on Goodnight Vienna. John, May and I spent hours encouraging Ringo as he laid down vocals.  When he finished we ventured to The Fiddler, a favorite Sunset Strip hangout that stayed open late and served delicious fried fish and chips.  It had an old Wurlitzer jukebox. The two boys drank, dropped quarters in the jukebox, singing and discussing women, wives and life while May and I chatted, watching them.

Ringo turned more melancholy as we approached two in the morning, holding my hand, touching my face, and looking at me with those big blue watery eyes.  He weaved his way to the jukebox and punched in Charlie Rich’s “The Most Beautiful Girl In The World” over and over again.  At one point he was on his knees, resting his head against the speaker, which was at the bottom of the Wurlitzer.

“That poor guy,” I said to John and May.  “He’s still in love with his wife. Look at him, his heart is broken.” John said softly, “Nancy, he’s a good lad… give him a chance… you two will be good together.”  At that moment I didn’t realize just how prophetic John’s statement would be.

Daytrippin’:  So you knew John Lennon before you actually met Ringo?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Yes.  I met John through my old boyfriend and legendary bass player, Carl Radle.  Carl played bass for Leon Russell and Eric Clapton and did many sessions in LA.  So I met John at a recording studio.  I can’t recall exactly what session it was but May and I instantly became friends that night and John gave me the thumbs up.

Daytrippin’:  So what was John like as a person?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  He was high energy.  He loved a good conversation. He liked facts about a subject.  And he was simple when it came to his needs, music, food and friends.  He was a night owl and liked to go to the movies after midnight.  One night we went downtown to a funky theater with Bob Dylan to see a Bruce Lee marathon.  Those were the days when a Beatle could make a run in the middle of the night to Pinks for a pig out on hot dogs.  He would get so excited in the recording studio and start sort of dancing when he was hearing what he wanted.  He just loved to get groups of us at the microphone for backup vocals. We had a lot of fun.

Daytrippin’:  And you met George Harrison before all of them. (Her boyfriend at the time, Carl Radle, played bass on All Things Must Pass and The Concert for Bangla Desh.)  What was George like?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  George was quiet but had this intensity when he talked to you.  Again, this guy loved music and it was all about the music.  His wife at the time, Pattie Boyd, was great to hang out with.  She’s a creative woman and a wonderful person.  A few years later Ringo and I went to visit him and Olivia at Friar Park in 1979.  They were so happy.  Olivia cooked a delicious dinner, he played the guitar and we wandered around that huge mansion while he told us its history.  He opened a door, I think it was in the kitchen and handed us candles and told us to follow him.  I thought, Oh, we’re going to the spooky cellar but the stairs kept going down and down and finally we landed on a flat surface.  I looked, and couldn’t believe what I saw… it was a cave complete with stylolites. Walkways through a cavern.  There was even a stream running through it!  I had my camera with me and we had a hilarious time shooting with and without the flash.  I have so many incredible pictures of us in that cave.

After that we settled in his study/music room and he handed me a bowl of rubies… big ones, small ones that were all cabachons.  It was days before my birthday and he said to pick what ever I want and have something made.  While he and Ringo talked and played the guitar I settled in front of the fireplace and designed a necklace with lots of hanging rubies.  One of those nights I’ll never forget.

Daytrippin’:  So after John set you up with Ringo, how did your relationship develop?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  After our first date we were hooked on each other.  We just continued until one day we were looking for a house together and we were a couple.  Our world was fast and on the move all over the world.  We had a place in Monte Carlo, England, Amsterdam and LA.  Between the recording studios, movie premieres, promotion tours, traveling nine months a year and juggling the children, friends and family we were gypsies — elegant gypsies.  Sometimes we would unplug the phones and hide out in our own house not letting anybody know we were in town.  Just a few days of old movies, some home made popcorn and our favorite meals.  Those days were some of our best times.

Daytrippin’:  Your new photo book, A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll, chronicles your life with Ringo (1974-1980) as well as the decade of the 1970s.  How did you go from an Eileen Ford Model to becoming a rock photographer?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  I always had a camera in my hand and recorded what was happening in front of me.  Thinking back, there are so many times I wish I had clicked the shutter instead of feeling the moment was too personal and awkward to take a picture.  But you know there are thousands of images from our life and the people who just happened to be there and I would click.  Like the great images of George at the Grand Prix in Monte Carlo… click, click… they’re in the book.  But not all of them, so I’m going to introduce many new images in the gallery shows.  If I used half of what I have the book would be many, many volumes.  You know looking back I had the ultimate all access pass and nobody ever told me to put my camera down.

Daytrippin’:  How did the camera figure into your relationship with Ringo and how did he help boost your career?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  The camera was a huge part of our lives.  We were both posers and loved to give it up for the camera.  He loved the way I saw things and encouraged me to shoot.  One day he said he needed a new head shot for the new album and said, “You shoot it.”  We went out by the side of our house where the light reflected beautifully and we did our little session.  After that we did his next two album covers — Ringo the 4th and Bad Boy, the “Ringo” TV Special and various other publicity images.  He is a natural in front of the camera.  There are images I took of him while in Morocco that are breathtaking.  He actually looked like he could be a Bedouin lord… a flowing Black cape with a long hood… he merged with the culture and they accepted him as one of their own as we strolled through the Medina.  We were living in our own personal movie in a foreign world and I was shooting it.  What a trip!

Daytrippin’: You also helped Ringo write a song, the lovely “Las Brisas” on Ringo’s Rotogravure. How did that come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  We were in Acapulco, I think it was the first year of our relationship, and it was so romantic at the Las Brisas Hotel. Everything was pink — pink jeeps, pink flowers floating in the pool, etc.  I was fascinated with the language and was asking someone to translate words for me and writing them down on a napkin in a poem form.  A band was playing and Ringo picked up the napkin and stared singing the words.  We worked on it over the next few days and it became our little song.

Daytrippin’:  You also took the cover and back shot of Ringo’s next album, Ringo the 4th.  What inspired you?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Fantasy, fairy tales, sword and sorcery, not sure but evolved from a nice bottle of champagne and maybe a book we had been reading.  I think I put that sword in his hands to represent him slaying his demons.  There was this big empty closet in our suite at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan.  I mean, it would have been a bedroom in some apartments. Any way it was the perfect light box when the flash went off.  We had the best time shooting in that closet with my girlfriend, Rita, on his shoulders.

Daytrippin’:  There’s a famous shot of you, Ringo and Paul and Linda McCartney on 5th Avenue in New York.  What was Paul like and how did that photo come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  We were strolling down 5th Avenue back to the Plaza Hotel and we hear someone calling Ringo’s name.  I turned and saw Paul and Linda across the street.  I mean what is the chance of that?  Paul had a photographer following him so when he caught up with us the photographer snapped away.  Paul and Linda came back to the hotel with us and we ordered some tea up to the suite.  I found Paul very charming and down to earth.  He and Linda were a real couple; you know, they were a unit.  Linda had a wonderful sense of humor.  We never hung out with them.  They were always on the farm and Paul had his own music.  He did write a song for Ringo’s Rotogravure, Pure Gold. Paul said it was about me for Ringo, so he recorded it.

Daytrippin’:  Ringo once again called upon you to take publicity photos for the “Ringo TV Special” in 1978.  What do you recall about that shoot and how did Ringo approach the project?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  He took the role seriously because it was the first vehicle that revolved around him.  American TV was a very important vehicle to promote his music.  We had just acquired a house in the Hollywood Hills and it was empty, so we decided to use the living room as our studio.  It was great fun working with an art director and director.  Ringo was surrounded by some great performers who just loved him.

Daytrippin’: You met a lot of famous people through Ringo.  Who was the most memorable?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  The Duke!  We were having dinner one night at the El Padrino Room at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and I was beside myself because John Wayne was sitting a table away.  He was in my line of sight, but not Ringo’s.  I was fidgeting and terribly distracted.  Ringo finally asked me what was wrong with me and I gushed, “I can’t believe this but John Wayne is sitting right over there.”  Ringo’s eyes lit up and we sat there like two starstruck kids.  When John Wayne was leaving he walked right by our table and Ringo stopped him to say hello.  He was so nice and very tall.  Ringo asked him if he would give me a kiss and he said sure.  He put out his hand and pulled me up from the table and laid a Maureen O’Hara big one right on my lips.  I was a puddle with a stupid grin on my face as Ringo laughed and the other diners smiled at me.  Now that was a man and a legend!

Daytrippin’:  You’ve got some great photos of Ringo and Keith Moon at Trancas Beach in Malibu.  What was your relationship with “Moonie” and was he as crazy as he has been portrayed in the past?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Keith had two sides.  Some of those pictures in Malibu capture the soft cuddly side of him.  The other side was the Mad Hatter who could make any tea party interesting.

Daytrippin’:  You also developed close friendships with other Beatle cohorts such as Harry Nillson, Dr. John and Donovan.  Give me a brief thumbnail of each person.

Nancy Lee Andrews:   I loved Harry Nilsson like a brother.  One of the most brilliant and fascinating men I have ever met.  Dr. John was all about the music, too.  He loved his kids, a southern gentleman.  Donovan is very impish and fun.  He loves to entertain and gets everyone involved when he knows he has your attention.  A great subject to shoot.

Daytrippin’:  The book portrays a very fast-paced, jet-set lifestyle that you shared with Ringo, including trips to England, Japan, Monte Carlo, Morocco, Mexico and the Yucatan. Didn’t you nearly die in a plane crash in the jungle in the Yucatan?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Here’s what happened:  we were having a nice time in the Yucatan for about a week until Ringo suddenly became restless.  He woke up one morning and said, “Get me off this island.  I don’t care how you do it, but get me outta here.”  In a matter of hours I managed to book a twin-engine plane to Merida that seated six people.  Our party of four, the two pilots and our embarrassing amount of luggage put us well over the plane’s weight capacity.  Despite that and a looming tropical storm, no one could talk Ringo into staying another day.  The pounding storm forced us to fly so low that the bottom of the plane was brushing against the tops of the trees.  I was trying to calm my friend Susan S. Fair down, who was sure that our plane was going to go crash in the jungle and our remains would never be found.  Hilary Gerard, Ringo’s manager, was holding Tibetan prayer beads up against his third eye, furiously chanting and wishing for a cigarette.  While everyone was frantic and on the verge of breaking down, Ringo was as calm as could be.  He said very matter-of-factly, “Don’t worry, it’s not my time to go, so we’ll all be fine.”

Daytrippin’:  You went out with Ringo during the height of the disco era.  I have it on good account that he took ballroom dancing as a kid and is pretty light on his feet?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Oh my god, he was a fabulous dancer.  We loved to go to the discos in Monte Carlo and Regine’s was our favorite.  The DJ knew that we loved “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” by Marvin Gaye and would play it at least twice while we were there.  Ringo would jump up and pull me to the dance floor.  He had moves that were so simple but looked so good.  Also we loved to go to Tramps in London… they had the best bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes).  We would gobble it down around 2 a.m. before we went home.  If other women wanted to dance with Ringo they didn’t ask — they  knew I would scratch their eyes out.  As far as ballroom dancing I honestly did not know that about him.  Hmmm, maybe that’s where he got such good timing.

Daytrippin’:  Your relationship with Ringo came to an abrupt end when he met Barbara Bach on the set of Caveman in 1980. You were actually engaged to Ringo at the time.  How did you find closure?

Nancy Lee Andrews:    It took time.  I thought he would come home to me but he fell hard for Barbara Bach.  I put my focus on photography.  I had a business called Headshots for Women and advertised in Variety.  My beauty lighting had the girls lined up.  This was before photoshop.  I had an air brusher and he would wipe the lines away and the women loved it!  Love my computer.  I had a couple of committed relationships over the next ten years and finally gave up.  That’s when I met my husband and we are now coming up to our 15th anniversary… not to mention the few years of courting.

Daytrippin’:  Tell us about your life today and what are your future plans?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Well, life is very exciting these days.  The book is coming out and will show my photography, even though it’s a flashback to the ’70s.  My friend, May Pang, is also coming out with a book of never before seen photos of John.  We’re going to be doing gallery exhibits and book singings together this spring in Scottsdale, Arizona; Palm Springs, California and NYC.  I have a wonderful exhibit at the Tennessee State Museum this summer, a combination of A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll and a dash of country.  I also head up IconicPhotos.com, a Web gallery showcasing some fine photographers work at prices that won’t dent your wallet.  I’m currently negotiating gallery exhibits in London, Paris, Amsterdam and San Francisco.  Whew, this is only a few months into the year and everything seems to have just taken off.

[heejinnien]

araceli’s love letters

happy valentine’s day!

my favorite movie of all time is to all the boys i’ve loved before. in the movie, lara jean covey writes love letters to each of her past crushes. this gave me the idea to do this for valentine’s day: for this day, i’ll be writing my mutuals love letters of appreciation, in order of when we first interacted.

to: @elcie-chxn

— hello, laura. technically we met on twitter, but i wanted to include something for you :) thank you for always being so supporting of me and my writing. i know that if i ever need someone to ask, you’ll be there for me, and you have one of the biggest hearts of anyone that i know. you’re so funny and creative, and a very talented writer. i hope that we can talk more because you’re the exact kind of person i want to be really good friends with.

love, araceli

p.s. whiplash is one of my favorite tbz songs now

to: @00seonu

— when laura retweeted my about me post, you were the first person to follow my blog, even when i had no writing up. when i did begin to post, you were always there to like and support it. we haven’t interacted much (mostly through tags and chain asks) but you’re really sweet. your writing never fails to make me smile, and i hope that we can talk more.

love, araceli

to: @sighmah

— hello, sai. technically you aren’t a tumblr mutual because we only interact on twitter, but we both follow each other so i count that as enough to write you this. you’re so kind, funny, sweet, caring, and beautiful, and you never fail to put a smile on my face. talking to you brightens my day, and i love you to the moon and back. i hope we can continue our friendship for as long as possible :)

love, araceli

to: @puppywritings

— we haven’t interacted very much, having found each other through acceptance at the same time to a network, but from what i’ve seen of you on my feed you seem very sweet and fun. if it’s okay with you i’ll continue tagging you in tag games. your writing is really good, and i hope we can interact more.

love, araceli

to: @woodiegochile

— we haven’t had the opportunity to talk much either, but i definitely want to get to know you. you seem like a very fun person to talk to, as well as caring and sweet. your writing is very good, and i hope we can talk or interact more. if it’s okay with you, i’ll continue tagging you in tag games, and hopefully from here we only grow as mutuals :)

love, araceli

to: @mijing-z

— girl, you’re crazy and i love you :) you’re so sweet, funny, and kind, and talking to you is definitely one of the best parts of my day. we don’t really interact through tumblr, but we’re mutuals so you definitely earn a spot in my love letters. i know things have been hard at times, but i believe you can persevere through them. in the end, things will work out how they’re meant to be. i love you from the bottom of my heart.

love, araceli

to: @taegularities

— hello, rid :) you were the first one to sign on to my be collab, and i just want to say that i love you from the bottom of my heart. i remember the confusion i felt when you first dmed me the invite to the sss discord, especially upon reading the third s, but i’m glad i joined because it’s like a family for me. you’re so kind, thoughtful, considerate, smart, funny, and beautiful, and you writing is amazing. i hope that we can only continue to grow together as individuals, and i’m glad that you’re apart of my life.

love, araceli

to: @xiaokoo

— hello, dee. firstly, i love being your beta reader. your writing is always so moving, and i love being able to help you craft your stories and read it ahead of others hehe. secondly, i love you. you’re so funny and sweet, and even though i may (i will neither confirm nor deny this statement) pick on you from time to time, you mean a lot to me. i hope we can continue to grow together as writers and friends, and never change who you are.

love, araceli

to: @tae-cup-main

— hello, marria. i’m so glad that you messaged to be apart of my be collab. you’re so kind, sweet, funny, and considerate, and talking to your brightens my day. you’re such a talented writer, and an amazing co-captain. there’s no one i would rather be soulmates with, or no one i would rather be married to. i hope that we can only continue to talk and grow together.

love, araceli

p.s. when can i move into your guest house

to: @kassrole

— hello, kas. when you volunteered to beta read monsters, it was the beginning of our friendship. after we were both accepted to bcc, i didn’t know if we’d talk anymore, but as fate would have it rid invited us both to sss and we did. you’re so sweet, kind, and funny, as well as beautiful and talented. your graphics are insanely good, and your writing is on another level. i love you, and i hope that we can continue to talk and grow together.

love, araceli

to: @afangirldaydreams

— hello, duda. i’m glad you chose teaching, because you’re so kind and considerate, and you’ll be able to make a positive impact as a teacher. you’re also funny and sweet, as well as beautiful and talented. i’m glad that we’re in sss together, as there are no other people i would like to be with. don’t overwork yourself, and remember to take breaks for yourself. i love you so much, and i hope that we can continue to talk and grow together.

love, araceli

p.s. i hope you’re feeling better after eating all tat sushi

to: @jaeyoonurl​

— we haven’t really had the opportunity to interact on a personal level aside from the occasional tag game, but you seem like a very fun and caring person. your writing is so good, and i love seeing your posts on my feed. if you’re okay with it, i hope we can talk and interact more.

love, araceli

to: @hoebii

— hello, fluff. i’ve never met someone as kind or pretty as you, and when you speak bangla, it makes my heart uwU in the best possible way. you’re so caring, and you’ve helped me so much. i appreciate the fact that i know you’ll always be there for me, to listen or to support me, and i hope that we can continue to talk. the future is so long, but together we can achieve anything.

love, araceli

to: @moccahobi

— hello, lil. when we first talked, you seem intimidating to me. however, when i dmed you a question about bcc, i could see that you’re actually really kind and friendly. since then you’ve only proven me right. you’re so sweet and caring, and so smart and beautiful, too. you do so much i’m amazed by it all, but despite that you still help others. you have a kind heart, and i love you so much. i hope that we can continue to talk and grow together, and i’m glad that i met you.

love, araceli

to: @kb-bangtanenthusiast

— hello, kb. we haven’t talked much outside of official purple army net business, but you seem so sweet and caring of the wellbeing of others. i hope that we can talk more as mutuals and friends, outside of purple army net, and get to know more about each other. i’m sure that you’ll only prove me right about how kind and caring you are, but if you’re okay with it i would like to learn other things about you as well. i’m sure i’ll discover over amazing traits about you.

love, araceli

to: @jinings

— hello, sunNI. thank you so much for all of your support. you’re so kind, loving, and sweet, and you always make me feel a little bit better. you’re so funny, and your writing is so cute and brings a smile to my face. i love being your junior concierge, and i hope that we can continue to talk and grow closer. i love you the most, and you can’t argue with me because i’m taller.

love, araceli

to: @mimikookie

— hello, sunli. you’re one of the kindest, sweetest, funniest, smartest, most caring people i know. you just have an amazing personality, and you’re exactly the type of person i want to be friends with. your writing is amazing, and i’m not just saying that as your (part-time) beta writer. i love you so much, and i hope that we can continue to talk for as long as possible.

love, araceli

to: @seoulphiles

— hello, crystal. we just began talking today (kshfgjksdfg) but you already seem kind, friendly, and sweet. your personality is so bright and fun to talk to, and even our mbti types say that we’re destined to be friends. i hope that we can continue to talk because you seem like such a wonderful person.

love, araceli

to: @/order’s up anon

— hello! i’m not sure if you’ll see this, but interacting with you is one of the highlights of my day. i always love receiving asks from you, as well as learning more about you. you seem so kind, loving, and sweet, and you have impeccable taste in music. is it possible to love someone when you don’t even know who they are? i hope that when the event is over we can continue to interact, and i hope that i can see some of your creations!

love, araceli

so this concludes my love letters to you. i’m very sorry if we’ve interacted and i didn’t include you, i went down my followers list but i may have skipped over someone. regardless, i love you all, no matter how big or small are interactions have been. i hope everyone has a wonderful valentine’s day, which is no less than they deserve. unlike lara jean, these letters are being sent after i’ve penned them, instead of being locked in a teal hat box for someone else to send :-)

signing off,

araceli

[noorsworld-daily]

SILENT CONFESSIONS

Their marriage was fixed on 26th December 2018. “Meera Upadhyay weds Dhairya Oberoi”, read their wedding invitations. The wedding celebrations were to start on 31st December and the wedding was scheduled for 6th January. A week long wedding celebration. After all the Oberois were the biggest family in all of New Delhi. Dhairya was known as the steel prince in the social circle and the media, his dad was the steel king. And the prince was getting married, the celebrations had to be royal. The news was sudden, and many hearts were broken. Hearts of young girls and their mother’s. All anyone could talk about was the prince and his unknown bride, who by the way remained unknown for exactly two hours and thirteen minutes. That’s how long it took for the Delhi high society social circle to find her on Instagram, and from there they reached her blog and her work site. Within a few hours she was the hot topic of the town. Everyone and anyone had her resume rolling off their tongues.

Meera Upadhyay was an investigative journalist with an online news website. She had an undergraduate degree in English Literature from St. Stephan’s College in Delhi and went on to pursue her master’s degree in journalism from Stanford. She returned to India three years ago and was already the top investigative journalist at her paper. She was one to look out for. She lived in Chanakyapuri with her parents. Her father was an IPS Officer, who had only three more years of service left. Her mother was a doctor at AIIMS, Delhi as well as Head of Department of Dermatology and Venereology. She had a younger brother working as an investment banker in New York. She was a simple girl, always focused and determined. A natural beauty, she was completely innocent of it and it made her all the more charming. If you asked her to describe herself, she would use only two words – ‘ambivert and sapiosexual’.

Dhairya Oberoi was the CEO of Oberoi Steel, the biggest steel company in all of Asia. He too, like Meera, was a graduate of St. Stephan’s, who then gained his masters’ degree in business from Harvard. His dream was always to become a writer, that is why he studied English literature at Stephan’s. His grandfather was the one who introduced him to the world of stories for the first time. He was the one who read him a story every night before bed, who recognized his talent to touch millions of hearts with words and gave him his first notebook. But during Dhairya’s final year, his grandfather died after a long battle with cancer. It felt like he was all alone in the world suddenly. That was the last time he wrote anything.

Every Friday night Meera went to Bangla Sahib Gurudwara with her parents to offer her prayers. It was on one of these nights that Dhairya’s parents and grandmother decided to go too. Dhairya’s grandmother was the one who noticed Meera sitting next to her inside the Gurudwara. She was wearing a pastel pink suit and her head was covered with the dupatta. She looked like a divine soul. It was as if God had planned this chance meeting. For his grandmother, she was God sent. Meera was busy talking to someone when they approached her parents. They showed their interest in her and her parents were elated. Everyone knew the Oberois and it was not hidden that they were very respectful and kind people. Her father had colleagues who could vouch for their characters, and this was enough for him to invite them over for dinner the next night.

Meera was told to come home early that day. When asked, her mother only said that important guests were coming. She knew this was about her marriage, so she didn’t ask more. Honestly, she couldn’t care less. She was not against the institution of marriage, or the arranged marriage for that matter. She knew her parents would have to find a match for her. She had never had a boyfriend. At this point she was just indifferent to the idea of marriage. If she and her parents liked the boy, she would think about it, otherwise she would not waste a single brain cell over the situation.

Dhairya knew that he had to get married one day. He was a single child and sole heir to the empire; he too needed an heir. He had few flings in the past, but they were all casual. He had never met anyone who could string the cords of his heart. So, he had put the responsibility of finding the bride upon the shoulders of his family. If they liked the girl, then he would marry her.

When they reached her house and he saw the nameplate “Upadhyay”, only one name came to his mind – Noorie. The image of her reciting Annabel Lee to her friends is still clear in his head, as though it was yesterday. And the sound of her voice, as it starts quivering towards the end of the poem is so soft as though she was reciting it in his ear at this moment. But this could not be her.

Introductions were made, greetings were exchanged, everyone settled down and the drinks were served. After a few minutes Meera was summoned into the living room. She slowly walked in and greeted everyone one by one. First the grandmother, then the mother. She recognized her immediately and the father as well. But how could this be. It was impossible. Slowly she moved her gaze to the guy sitting with her dad. Her eyes widened with shock. She could not believe this, Dhairya Oberoi was the guy who had come to meet her as a potential prospect for marriage. It was Dhairya, from college.

Dhairya saw her the moment she entered the room. He was shocked as well, but quickly contained his surprised expression. This whole situation was absolutely bizarre. He could not believe that it was Noorie standing in front of him. She looked as if she recognized him, but that must be because of the media and his business, not because she remembered him from college. Why would she? They had only interacted once during a college fest when she had come up to him and praised his poem. That compliment had made his day. But for her it didn’t mean anything.

He had no idea who she was, and she was standing in front of him, gaping at him with open mouth. This was her first thought when she came back to her senses. She quickly composed herself and greeted him. They took their seats and the night went on. Their parents talked about some general topics, and then they were sent away to talk to each other. They were extremely awkward. Both had buried feelings for each other but didn’t know what was going on in the other person’s mind. They talked briefly about their education and jobs and hobbies. St. Stephan’s came up, but they just said that they don’t remember the other one. None of them wanted to seem desperate. Over coffee, after dinner that night, their marriage was fixed, and a date was fixed over brunch the next day at the Oberoi house.

The date was fixed for one month later. Everyone became busy with the preparations. The invites were finalized and sent out. Only a week was left for the big day. It was a mad house at both places. The guests had arrived, and the wedding festivities were to commence tomorrow, and Meera had the most horrible cold.

She was miserable when she had a cold. And to top it all her house was a complete bazaar. And her room looked as if Karan Johar had puked all over it. Different colored shimmering dresses were lying all over the bed and the chairs. Her table was covered in jewelry and makeup. There was no place to put her feet, the ground was swarmed with various footwear. Every other second some female would enter her room to see the wedding outfits and how she was doing. Asking her whether she was nervous, excited, senselessly teasing her about her wedding night. And the worst part was that she had to smile and entertain them. There was no escape. Every corner of the house was crawling with relatives. All she wanted was somequiet, a cup of hot coffee, brownie with it and to put her head down. But apparently it was too much to ask for. Each person was doing their best to make her wedding day the happiest day of her life, but no one was concerned about how the bride was doing.

Dhairya had been restless this whole while. He had no idea what he would do once he was married to the woman, who he was pretty sure, was the love of his life. It would have been so much easier if she was a complete stranger, but no, she had to be that one person for whom he had unsaid feelings for years, buried deep in his heart. He had never told anyone about Meera. Not even his best friend.

His chain of thought was broken by the ring of his phone. Veer was calling, Meera's brother.

“Hey Veer.”

“Hi Dhairya, listen I was calling to ask you what time does your cousin’s flight land? I need to tell the driver.”

“Uh…. Ten-thirty tonight.”

“Okay.”

“How’s it going there? It’s a fish market down here.”

“Same here man. Oh! To top all of that, your bride is down with a horrible cold. And she is MISERABLE. She can’t drive herself to a café and I don’t have the time. No driver is available either. And no one is letting her rest, everyone wants a piece of the bride. That has driven her over the edge. I’ll see if she can get some quiet time tonight, but I highly doubt it since there’s a pooja.”

“Oh….That’s too bad. Uh… Veer do you mind if I drive her to the café?”

“Be my guest, actually if you could just ask mom once. But I don’t think she’ll have a problem. She thinks you both need to spend some time together.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Dhairya called his mother-in-law and she was more than delighted. He reached her house within ten minutes. Her mom was going to inform Meera when she was distracted by someoneelse. Hence, she had no idea that Dhairya was coming to take her out for coffee.

When he reached he was escorted to her room. It was a complete mess. There was no place on her bed to put her head down. The door to the terrace was open. Meera was sitting on a swing reading her copy of Call Me By Your Name. It had always been one of her favourites. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she was wearing an oversized baby pink sweater and black yoga pants. Her cheeks and nose were red due to the cold. She would again and again blow her nose in the tissues kept next to her, and bring her hand between her eyes, hold her nose and exclaim, “Oh God!” This had been her habit since college.

She looked so beautiful when she was hassled. He stood in the doorway for good five minutes when Meera noticed him. She jumped off the swing, but her head started spinning because of the rush. She was about to fall back when Dhairya quickly rushed to her side and put his arms around her. Their faces were only a few centimetres away from each other. They were lost in each other’s eyes, when they heard someone coming into the room. He quickly let her go and they both regained their composure. Although Meera still looked flustered.

“I’ve come to take you out for coffee. You could use some time away from all this.”

“Okay…. Let me just change.”

“Actually I was thinking that I’ll go get the coffee and we could just sit in the car and talk.”

“ I would love that actually.”

They drove to a café nearby and after getting coffee and brownies, he drove them to a quiet spot. It was a beautiful sunny day. They settled down in the car, and Dhairya rolled Meera’s seat back so that she could be more comfortable. She was finally beginning to relax. Her headache was going away and the brownies tasted delicious.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you for the coffee.”

“No problem.”

“Dhairya… I-uh-I lied to you, about not remembering you. I remember you from college. You once dropped some sheets while walking and I ran after you to return them, but you had already gotten into your car and driven off. I decided to return them the next day. You had written a poem on it, and it was the most beautiful poem I have ever read.”

Dhairya couldn’t believe his ears. He genuinely believed that she didn’t remember him. And she had read his poem! He didn’t even know which one was it, if it was even good.

“But I don’t remember you returning those papers.”

“Oh no. I gave them to my friend. She returned them to you.”

“Why not you?”

Meera looked away, “I-I don’t know… I was probably busy.”

“I lied too. I remember you. And the way you would recite Annabel Lee was absolutely beautiful.”

“God! You’ve heard me recite it?” She covered her face with her hands. She was so embarrassed. This is what he remembered about her?

“I loved it, and the way your voice would start quivering towards the end, it was like you could feel his pain. Honestly I have never heard anything more beautiful.” Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Meera looked away blushing.

“How come we never talked during college?” Dhairya asked.

“We had no common friends and you never came up to me." Even though I wished for it every single day.

“And I was not going to walk up to a senior whom I did not know.”

“Well, I have never been good with girls, so…”

“ We both were hopeless.”

“You could say that,” they both burst out laughing.

“How’s work?” Dhairya asked her after a few minutes.

“It’s going good. I’m currently working on a human trafficking scandal.”

“Wow… Sounds dangerous.”

“It is a little bit, but I take precautions. And I know the officers working on the case through dad. But to be honest, I’m a complete pain in their asses.”

“You do look stubborn.”

“Dhairya I want to continue with my work after marriage. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Why would you even say that? I know how much you love you work. I’ve read all your articles. But I personally feel that you should publish your short stories.”

“Huh?”

“ I read your blog and follow you on Tumblr.”

“You do? Do you like it?”

“It’s the best part of my day Meera.”

“Since when have you been reading my blog?”

“Since college. My friend sent me one of your short stories, which was sent to him by his girlfriend. I really liked it so I went on your blog to read more and that lead me to your Tumblr account. I swear Meera I was hooked from the first word.”

Meera blushed and looked outside the window. After a few seconds she said, “ I’m glad you liked them. I would love to read some of your written material. The one I read in college – the one you dropped – was mesmerizing.” The smile from Dhairya’s face vanished and his face now had a sad expression. Meera realized that she had said something wrong.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong. I didn’t mean to upset or offend you. I thought you wouldn’t mind sharing your work. I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t, it’s just that I don’t write anymore. I haven’t written anything since graduation.”

“ But why? You were so good. Everyone in college thought that you would end up winning the Pulitzer.”

“My baba thought so too. But he died before I could even graduate. He never got to see me up there giving the speech. After his death I just gave up. He was the only one who supported my writing. My parents were happy that I had decided to join the business, I let it stay that way.”

Meera put her hand over Dhairya’s and gave it a gentle squeeze, “It’s never too late to write.”

Dhairya looked up into her eyes and something between them changed at that moment. He looked down at her lips, and this made her nervous. She started biting her lip and this threw him over the edge. He slowly leaned in towards her, as she did the same. Their lips were just a few centimetres apart, when Meera’s phone went off. This made her jump and she hit her head on the window. They both burst out laughing. Dhairya rubbed her head, “Are you fine?”

“Yeah,” she replied trying to control her laugh. It was one of Meera’s servants reminding her to come home as the pooja was about to begin.

“We should head back. It’s almost time for today’s pooja,” Meera told him.

“Yes! Let’s go.”

They drove in silence with a few occasional comments. The only thing on their minds right now was that almost kiss. And both of them were silently cursing that phone call. Meera had a smile on her face when they reached her house.

“Why are you smiling?”

Oh! I was just thinking about that kiss we almost had and how I’ve been imagining it since I saw you in college for the first time. This is what Meera wanted kto say, but instead she said, “Nothing I just remembered something funny, not important.”

She got out of the car and Dhairya came from the other side, “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not!”

“Are you sure you weren’t thinking about something else, like the kiss we almost had.”

“You’re mad!” Meera said this and she started walking towards her house. It was dark now and the numerous trees around her house hid her and Dhairya from everyone in the house. As Meera opened the main gate of her house, Dhairya came from behind, locked the gate again, and quickly pulled her behind a tree. He pushed her towards the bark and slowly leaned into her. He gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the lips and pulled back. Meera pulled him in again and they kissed. This time it was more passionate and fierce. They let go of each other to catch their breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long now,” Dhairya said panting.

“I should go in now,” she said blushing.

He pulled her and gave her one final kiss and she ran inside the house. They both could not believe their fate. They had been crazy about each other all through college, they hadn’t forgotten each other, and now they were getting married. It won’t be a stretch to say that they had fallen in love long before today. They had fallen in love through stolen glances, through stalking each other on social media. They had fallen in love while spending those countless nights thinking about each other. They were two people who had fallen in love years ago and were now getting married, to stay together forever.

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[lovelami]

Types of people in my gigantic Bengali family

A/N: this was @rinniemybeloved 's idea. I just wrote this since she's shit at writing 🤷🤷

Warnings: my family who were born drunk even without alcohol, my terrible bangla spelling and tangaili accent

The babies: "আম্মু আমি কোকোমেলন দেকব"

Translation: "Mom I wanna watch cocomelon"

These midgets are everywhere. One is in your room sleeping, one is on the floor somehow not getting stepped on, another one is the tablet kid sitting next to her mom watching cocomelon, the list could go on. You're gonna randomly hear one of them screaming in the middle of a family reunion for no reason.

The bob cut girl: "আমি খেতে চাই না"

Translation: "I'm don't wanna eat"

Bob cut girls. They either have short hair and anger issues, short hair and a crush on an anime character, or short hair and doesn't wanna eat. Or all of them. Some of them are actually pretty cool but it's really rare. But they're not the worst because they'll probably be on their phones reading smth in the corner, not disturbing anyone.

The dadu: "তুই কুন ক্লাসে পরস?"

Translation: "what grade are you in?"

The grandpa that feels so awkward to talk to because the only thing he's gonna do is say hello, ask how you are, and ask what grade you're in. The third question just feels really weird because you're gonna see him several times in the same year and he's gonna keep on asking you the same question, "What grade you in?"

The gamer boys: "তোর কন্ট্রোলার অনছিস!?"

Translation: "you brought your controller!?"

It's basically a bunch of teenage boys who all huddle up in one room and pull out, like, three oculuses out of nowhere. Most of them are quiet though, but once in a while you'll here a few yells and stuff. How these boys will act kinda depends on what part of Bangladesh you're from though.

The kutni aunties: "জানেন আমার স্বামী আজ কি করেছে, আপু?"

Translation: "you know what my husband did today, sister?"

The aunties who are gonna sit down on the dining table, pointing their index finger at random people at the gathering while you could be doing absolutely nothing wrong and they would still give you a noticeable side eye. But when they aren't trash talking about people, they're bragging about what their husbands did like 2 months ago.

The aunties' fave: "আমি আজ পর্যাপ্ত খাবার খেয়েছি"

Translation: "i've had enough food today"

The aunties, especially the kutnis, are all over him. The quote might sound weird, but it actually fits because this boy will be forced to get all that fish on his plate as a way of "showing their love for him" from his aunties. This dude gets proposals like every month or so since he gets a lot of money or is studying a subject that will give him a lot of money in the future. He's also not that bad-looking.

+ ° + ° + ° + ° + ° +

That's all I could think of, but this was really fun!

[doorblog399]

Chirodini Tumi Je Amar 2008 Full Movie Free Download

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Chirodini... Tumi Je Aamar (Bengali: চিরদিনই.... তুমি যে আমার 'All time you are mine') (2008) is a Bengali film by Raj Chakraborty, one of the most revered directors of Zee Bangla TV show Mirakkel hosted by anchor Mir and Dance Bangla Dance and judged by Mithun Chakraborty. The film was inspired by the Balaji Sakthivel directed Tamil film Kaadhal. This is a quite similar tragic real life love story of the Priyanka-Rizwanur angle begins and ends with a rich girl marrying a poor boy much against her family’s wishes.

Krishna (Rahul Banerjee) is a diligent scooter mechanic in Siliguri and life goes on smoothly for the young man till the rich schoolgirl Pallavi (Priyanka Sarkar) sets her eyes on him. The infatuation reaches dangerous levels when she coaxes Krishna to take her away from the clutches of her family, which has other plans about her future.The tone is set right from the start as instead of beginning with the two young lovers meeting, falling in love and then eloping, the film begins with the elopement, as Pallavi steps out of her house in her school uniform, leaving behind even her wrist watch behind since Krishna has instructed her not to take a single thing with her. The two rush into a shopping mall where Pallavi hurriedly changes into a young boy’s shirt, pants and cap, leaves her uniform behind and the two board the bus.

The flashback, as point-of-view narrations, between Pallavi and Krishna, are intercut with Pallavi’s don-like father and uncle terrorizing the neighbourhood in search of the truant girl. The naïve Krishna hesitantly yields to her charm and the two run away to Kolkata. Krishna's friend Ali (Rudranil Ghosh) helps them in the hour of crisis and the lovers unite in marriage. The couple consummates their union while the mess chaps hastily organize a proper wedding and elaborate reception in their own style. But her family is not going to give up so easily on the daughter they dote on. The family tracks down the couple that has eloped and eventually separates them. Pallavi agrees to marry another man in order to save Krishna's life after he is being beaten by her father. While she believes this decision is best and moves on with her life, she one day while on the road with her husband and daughter runs into Krishna who was suffered permanent brain damage from his beating.

Raj Chakraborty

Shree Venkatesh Films

Written by

Rahul Banerjee

Tamal Roy Chowdhury

Sujit Dutta

Rita Koiral

Jeet Ganguly

Cinematography

Robi Ranjan Mitra

Distributed by

15 August 2008

Running time

Rs.2.5 crores

Chirodini Tumi Je Amar 2008 Bengali Full Movie Free Download

[hotelload494]

Our Revels Now Are Ended

Our Revels Now Are Ended Akira The Don

Our Revels Now Are Ended

Our Revels Now Are Ended The Tempest Act Iv Scene I

Our Revels Now Are Ended Youtube

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision. 13 thoughts on “ Our Revels Now Are Ended. ” ST says: March 1, 2020 at 6:47 pm “Farewell the tranquil mind.” Indeed!

“Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded.

Title: Our revels now are ended Author: bsimon Last modified by: bsimon Created Date: 5/18/2006 3:17:00 PM Other titles: Our revels now are ended.

Prospero and Miranda from the Paralympic opening ceremony

2012 has been the year of The Tempest. During this year of the World Shakespeare Festival at least three productions have been seen in the UK, and the play featured in the opening ceremonies for both the Olympics and Paralympics. Danny Boyle took much of his inspiration from the play’s themes of magic, humanity and reconciliation, entitling the ceremony “Isles of Wonder”. Kenneth Branagh, dressed as Isambard Kingdom Brunel, delivered Caliban’s “The isle is full of noises” speech, and for the Paralympics Jenny Sealey and Bradley Hemmings gave us Ian McKellen as Prospero delivering speeches inspired by the play while Nicola Miles-Wildin as Miranda delivered her lines on the beauty of mankind, “O brave new world that has such people in it”.

At the British Museum’s current Shakespeare: Staging the World exhibition the final room is devoted to the play. The room is bathed in light after the darkness of the rest of the exhibition. Here we find terrestrial and celestial Globes symbolising exploration and discovery, the Robben Island Shakespeare reminding us of Shakespeare’s universal importance, and a recording of Ian McKellen delivering one of Prospero’s final speeches about reconciliation.

The productions have been as varied as the rest of the year’s Shakespeare offerings. The Globe to Globe production was performed in Bangla by the Dhaka Theatre of Bangladesh, with English subtitles. This vibrant production is available to view on The Space.

The RSC’s production is one of the trilogy of Shipwreck plays with Jonathan Slinger as a young, angry Prospero in David Farr’s modern dress production.

Tim Pigott-Smith as Prospero

Last Saturday another production of the play, directed by Adrian Noble, closed at the Theatre Royal in Bath. Noble’s production has been adapted from the San Diego Festival where it was the hit of 2011.

I was at the final performance, on the night before the closing ceremony of the Paralympics. Like the Olympics and Paralympics the production celebrated life, joy and emotion. In the build-up to the closing ceremony comedian Jimmy Carr was interviewed. “I’ve had a summer off from cynicism” he said.

This production connects with the audience from the start: Tim Pigott-Smith strides downstage, surveys the house sternly and strikes the boards with his magic staff. Pigott-Smith has played his fair share of unpleasant characters but here he doesn’t remain harsh for long. Miranda, played by Iris Roberts and Ferdinand (Mark Quartley) are a couple many fathom deep in love, and the atmosphere of delight is shared with the cast of curious islanders. Comedy is in the reliable hands of Geoffrey Freshwater and Mark Hadfield.

The programme editorial by Stuart Leeks focuses on the history of theatrical magic, but points out that although it’s now possible to create illusions by the use of projected images, “the greatest magic in The Tempest surely lies in the words used to summon up the fabric of this vision: the extraordinarily rich, supple, compacted verse”. In this well-spoken production magic is summoned, not by technology, but by a huge blue silk cloth. The islanders use it to make waves, to conceal entrances and exits, cover objects, as a dance partner. Ariel’s shadow as the Harpy is projected onto it, and the red eyes of the dogs that pursue Stephano and Trinculo glow behind it.

Our Revels Now Are Ended Akira The Don

At the end of the play Prospero speaks his final speech on a bare stage. He asks for help “or else my project fails/Which was to please”. He finds his redemption in connecting with the rest of humanity, and the cast joyfully leave the stage to clasp the hands of the audience.

Our revels now are ended: this summer both sport and culture have celebrated the human spirit with optimism and warmth. Long may it continue.

Condolences have come in from all over the country on the passing away of theatre doyen and art connoisseur Ebrahim Alkazi (18 October 1925 – 4 August 2020). However, what touched the heart was a Facebook post by Kumara Varma, who was schooled in theatre direction at the National School of Drama (NSD) and spent a lifetime in Chandigarh doing memorable plays and later heading the department of Indian theatre at Panjab University. Posting a black and white portrait of Alkazi, Varma quotes Shakespeare from The Tempest: “Our revels have now ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and, Are melted into air, into thin air.”

Our Revels Now Are Ended

Now settled in his home state of Kerala at Trichur, Varma says: “These are the lines that came to my mind when the news of Alkazi’s passing away came and one says with humble pride that whatever one learned was from him. He shaped modern Indian theatre and it was he who set the tradition of translating plays written in different regional languages all over the country and staging them in Hindustani. His repertoire was thus truly pan-Indian”.

© Provided by Hindustan Times Director Ebrahim Alkazi ()

Legend of Tughlaq

With this we come to the spectacular production of Girish Karnad’s Tughlaq, which was originally written in Kannada and translated for Alkazi by yet another brilliant director-musician of modern Indian theatre, late BV Karanth. Karnad was to say thus of Alkazi: “His fundamental contribution was to devise a methodology of theatre training which has continued after him, and to create a body of actors and directors which transformed the notion of theatre at the grassroots.” Interestingly, Alkazi first assigned Om Shivpuri to take up Tughlaq as a student production. Karnad was acknowledge that it was immaterial that these were only student productions: “Doors that we, in our vernaculars did not even know existed, had begun to open.”

Karnad, who sourced his plays from myth and history, wrote Tughlaq in 1964, based on the maverick life of the 14th century Sultan of Delhi, Mohammad Bin Tughlaq.

Alkazi as the founding director of NSD from 1962 to 1977, in those 15 years, directed to perfection many plays, yet his three definitive works to be staged in the backdrop of Delhi’s Purana Qila were Andha Yug, Razia Sultan and Tughlaq. The last which he first staged in 1962 is counted as one of the best productions the country saw in modern times is because it brought together some of the best talents of the country: Alkazi, Karanth, Karnad and of course the famous actor Manohar Singh, the Himachal boy who was groomed by his teacher to be one of the best actors on stage. Manohar was the first and only choice of Alkazi, who said: “Manohar had the aristocracy of spirit, nobility of soul and complete humility in understanding and enacting a role.”

Varma, who played the junior guard recalls, “The play had passed from history into legend while it was still being enacted. Artiste Kamal Tewari recalling the magnificent and unparalleled performance of Manohar Singh, says: “I was included in the production playing one of the conspiring Ameers and I remember the slap Manohar Singh gave me sent me hurling some six feet away”. Veteran actor Rani Balbir Kaur adds, “I travelled a number of times till the play was active to see it and each time it was a great experience. What dialogue delivery by Manohar Singh! I first met Kumara Varma there playing the young guard to whom Manohar renders the famous speech ‘Umangon bhari umar hai, Khwab dekhne ki umar, Saare aalam ko jeetne ki umar’ (It is your age of exaltation, The time to indulge in dreams, The time to conquer the whole world)’.”

Our Revels Now Are Ended The Tempest Act Iv Scene I

Flash forward to 1980s

It was in the mid-1980s during a meeting with actor Meeta Vashisht, who one knows from her Chandigarh theatre days, at the NSD hostel. One got talking about Tughlaq. Meeta recounted that the boy students would down beer, strip off most of their clothing and recite the dialogues of Tughlaq till late at night. Not surprising for that’s how it was and is in boys’ hostels. The young ones were giving an irreverent tribute but a tribute nevertheless. At the same time they were practising dialogue delivery at its best. Yes, and as a friendly neighbourhood journalist one had the privilege of spending a few evenings with Manohar Singh who would pick up the play and recite some of the dialogues. I earned his wrath when I once dosed off a little in the middle of the renderings and he told me to get up, fix myself a drink, and carried on reciting.

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Such was the magic of Tughlaq, a political play that was written on the faultline of Nehruvian socialism, yet in such a manner that it reached out to all in its multilayered delineation to one and all.

Our Revels Now Are Ended Youtube

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[shystoryrebel]

BRAVE RAJPUT AND THE TREACHEROUS EMPEROUR

This popular tale is related with the brave, loyal but simple Maharaja of Jodhpur Maharaja Jaswant Singh, his nine faithful ranis and deceitful Mugal emperor Aurangzeb.  According to the Hindu Calendar the month of Kwar comes after the monsoon season is over. There is a very popular tale related with this month. A former priest from famous Hindu temple Nathdwara in Udaipur, Rajasthan, narrated this tale to a person. The priest came to Delhi some decades ago. Although, this tale seems very strange, but it narrates the bravery and loyalty of Rajputs on the one side and narrates the treachery of Mugal emperor Aurangzeb on the other side.

  The story is related with the nine faithful Ranis and valiant Maharaja Jaswant Singh who was the Maharaja of Jodhpur and who was a very brave and important Senapati of Mugal emperor Aurangzeb. Aurangzeb appointed Maharaja Jaswant Singh as governor of Jamrud, which is now in Islamic Pakistan. Incidentally Maharaja Jaswant Singh took his last breath in Kabul.

  Few months before his death, the Maharaja visited Delhi and met the Muhal emperor Auranzeb. Whenever Maharaja visited Delhi, he never missed to pay his obeisance to famous Hanuman temple built by Swai Man Singh, the Maharaja of Jaipur and very famous senapati and one of the Navratnas of Mugal emperor Akbar.    

  This famous and ancient Hanuman temple is situated near another famous monument the Jamtar Mantar, on Baba Kharag Singh Marg. But during the days of Mugal emperor Aurangzeb, it was almost in wilderness and ruins near the Raisina hills, like any other Hindu temple, of that period. The only human habitant near the temple was the palace of Mirza Raja Jai Singh of Amber.

  Maharaja Jaswat Singh used to stay in Chandni Chowk. Later on he started to stay in the famous haveli of a bania trader, which was converted by Sikhs in Gurdwara Bangla Sahib. The Maharaja had come to know that the high priest of the Hanuman Temple can forecast about the future of someone with great exactness by just reading the lines of the hands of a person. The priest was very old and frail but his eyes and personality had the shining and burning aura of a saint who has passion of devotion. His tangled hair was curved up on his head like the hood of a serpent.

  Maharaja Jaswant Singh had come to meet the priest with expensive gifts, carried by a number of men. As it was the characteristic of Hindu clergy men to renounce worldly pleasures, he refused to accept the gift but finally accepted them to honor the Maharaja and not to dishearten him.

  The Maharaja revealed the reason of his call and opened his palm to the seer, priest. It was the month of Kwar, according to Hindu calendar and the time was late afternoon or before evening. The priest observed the lines of the majestic palm very deeply and from many angles. After studying the palm for several minutes the frail priest asked the Maharaja to go back to his palace and not to worry about his future. But Maharaja became adamant that without knowing the future he would not go back.

  On this the priest said with a sigh that this was his last visit to Delhi and he would die in a far-away land and far away from your motherland and no near and dear ones would be present with you when you breath your last. Again the priest said that fate cannot be challenged but you refuse to accept the emperor’s offer of governorship in a remote hilly state but retire and settle in your native State.

  With a very heavy heart and gloomy face the Maharaja heard the prediction of the priest and returned to the Walled City of Delhi. Next day he met Aurangzeb and told him that he was not interested in the governorship of Jamrud. Perturbed on this refusal, the emperor asked the reason. The Maharaja feigned that his nine ranis now want him to shun the army career of bloodbath and settle down in Jodhpur peacefully. He hid the prediction told by the priest of the Hanuman Temple who has advised him to decline the offer and not to go to that far away region.

  The emperor was very cunning and shrewd. He knew it very well that it was only the chivalry and leadership qualities of Maharaja Jaswant Singh which can control and tame the bloody and violent Afghan warlords. Aurangzeb has great persuasive power. He used his best to befool the simple, honest and loyal Maharaja. Cajoling the hand of Maharaja, Aurangzeb promised to the Maharaja that this would be his last assignment; he would give to his brave Rajput friend who had been very loyal to him who once defeated unconquerable Maratha warlord Chatrapati Shivaji in a very decisive battle in 1665 while commanding the Mugal forces.  

  The wolf minded emperor knew that the strategically important and notorious Jamrud and its barbarous habitants can be controlled and ruled only by a man of the Maharaja’s competence. He further assured him that he will be recalled as the hazard of any possible invasion is receded. Failed to understand the trick, the brave and loyal Maharaja could not say no to his friend and to this challenging task and after few days left for Jamrud, but never to return.  

  The Maharaja did not take his nine ranis with him and assured them of his early return within few months. He asked his ranis to stay at Agra where the Maharaja had a palace. As the priest predicted Maharaja Jaswant Singh died at Kabul and his body could not be brought to his native place and was cremated there and his nine ranis committed sati on the banks of river Yamuna, where a chhatri or a canopy was constructed as the memorial of great, loyal and brave Maharaja.  

  However there is another tale linked with the family of Maharaja after his death. It says that two of his ranis were pregnant and did not commit sati to save the lives of yet to born children and traveled to Lahore at the emperor’s behest. There both the ranis were blessed by a son each. The treacherous emperor said that he wanted to bring up one of them. The intelligent and strong character ranis substituted for the Maharaja’s posthumous son with another infant boy and quickly returned to their native place to save their chastity. Actually dirty mentality Aurangzeb had in his mind to keep a rajput rani in his harem.  He thought that if he got the charge of a son of Maharaja Jaswant Singh, his one of the ranis would naturally live with him as his dasi.

  It is also said that Rani Hada, wife of legendry Amar Singh Rathore who slay uncultured and ill mouthed Salahat Khan, cousin of Nur Jahan, at the court of Shah Jahan in 1644, committed sati at the same chhattri constructed in memory of Maharaja Jaswant Singh. Every year in the month of Kwar the hereditary temple priest of historical Nathdwara Temple, visits the famous Chhattri to perform puja and follow the almost 350 years old tradition to honor the brave Maharaja, his nine virtuous and faithful ranis and Rani Hada. Unfortunately in this secular nation Aurangzeb is remembered as a great emperor and no body remembers The Maharaja, his nine ranis, Amar singh Rathore and Rani Handa.

  This story gives a message that Hindu are in general and Rajputs in particular were victims of their own wrong decisions and misplaced loyalties. For centuries they remained loyal to Muslim rulers and in return got Hindus and Rajputs slaughtered, plundered and women raped. After Muslims they worked for Christian rulers of England and again they were very brutally treated. Again after independent they vote for secularist and again they are oppressed. According to Chanakya a race tolerant and apathetic cannot survive for long. It is bound to perish. It is a sigh of death and decay.

  In the Srimad Bhagvad Gita Lord Krishna advises Arjuna to fight and annihilate the sinners and wrong doers. It does not mean that Krishna is supporting the validity of war. War happens to be the occasion to clean the society of sinners. But Hindus take pacifist attitude like Arjuna, before the war, and do not take any decisive step to protect them. In the name of tolerance, non-violence they are become highly apathetic even to all the crimes committed against them. Maharaja Jaswant Singh was a victim of error of judgment and paid very heavily and lost his life and his wives narrowly escaped by being raped by the Mogul King Aurangzeb. Hindus like Arjuna take a suicidal human view of the situation which represents the extreme of non violence and tolerance and ignore the harsh reality in the name of tolerance and non-violence. We must fight against what is wrong.  

  Source: 1-R.V.SMITH in, The Times of India, New Delhi.

            2-Srimad Bhagavad Gita

[krishmashah19]

Why The Movie Industry Is Turning To Books For Its Biggest Productions

The Percy Jackson series was adapted into movies, which left the fans both heartbroken and furious. Years later with the rise of OTT platforms, Disney and author, Rick Riordan has joined forces to adapt it into a television series. This is not the first – where books were adapted into a web series/movie. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was such a successful Netflix adaptation, that the second book was also adapted into one, and the third is in the works.

The Kissing Booth of Wattpad fame was also adapted into a Netflix movie. It proved to be so successful that a sequel is also released!

- So why do creators turn to books for their biggest production?

Book to screen transformations has been on the ascent. You could contend that it began with TV shows picking to put together their new stories with respect to books –, for example, The Vampire Diaries had not one but rather two effective side projects – The Originals and Legacies. Both phenomenal variations dependent on characters made by a publishing house and contracted to author L.J. Smith.

While adjusting books into films has been around for a very long time, network shows or even web arrangement is another domain impressively. Netflix has been known to alternative books to adjust to the arrangement. Amazon Prime has a devoted segment where arrangements and movies dependent on books are recorded. The latest famous transformation of Prime has been Neil Gaiman's Good Omens. He had recently experienced accomplishment with the variation of American Gods, spilling on both Netflix and Amazon Prime.

When it comes to streaming giant Netflix, the list of books to series is endless: starting with Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Adventures, Lucifer (based on the character created by Neil Gaiman), Shadow Hunters, Anne with an E, 13 Reasons Why, and closer to home, Selection Day and Sacred Games.

- The average turnover by book-to-screen adaptations

But what motivates these adaptations? One explanation could be the turnover. Book to screen transformations are not without a considerable amount of benefits. Indeed, a report distributed by Forbes uncovered that book-to-screen transformations procure 53% more income than unique screenplays. The hypothesis is that there is now a prepared crowd who have known about the book and can't stand by to see it on screen. Or on the other hand, crowds find out about the transformation and purchase the source material. A renowned case of such is The Handmaid's Tale pushed deals of the book, as did the novel, My Cousin Rachel. Distributors' affiliations don't have a strong response to why books to screen variations work better. Everything they can offer is an informed conjecture, which is: crowds like to watch arrangement/motion pictures that were at that point scholarly properties in their own right.

According to Business Insider, the Harry Potter Series grossed $7.7 Billion in the box office. The books, themselves, sold over 500 million copies! A popular book to TV adaptation series, Game of Thrones, grossed $1 Billion – with 30 million users per episode, reported Stash Invest and Finance Monthly. The series became so popular that began to generate a revenue of $88 million per episode during season 8 – their last season.

But of course, these predictions were made before we found ourselves in the middle of a global pandemic.

However, if anything can be taken away from it, is the learning that OTT platforms are here to stay! With Artemis Fowl deciding to go for a global premiere on Disney Hotstar. Bollywood’s adaptation of The Fault in Our Stars, Dil Bechara, is also slated to release on the OTT platform – and will be made available to both the subscribers and non-subscribers of the platform.

- The Curious Case of Bollywood

In Bollywood, seemingly Chetan Bhagat began the pattern of transforming books into films with Five Point Someone adjusted into 3 Idiots, and later, 3 Mistakes of my Life was its Bollywood debut as Kai Po Che. Further down in the East – Bangla movie pictures have drawn motivation from darling books by Rabindranath Tagore, Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay, and Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay. Parineeta was a transformation of the Bangla short story of a similar name by Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay.

Yet, this despite everything makes one wonder for what reason do movie producers go-to books as source material for their movies or potentially arrangement? The appropriate response is by all accounts straightforward: the books would previously carry with it an inherent crowd. John Green's The Fault in Our Stars was a blockbuster hit since perusers were at that point standing by excitedly for its delivery. A similar contention can be made for Calling Sehmat that was the honor winning Raazi.

With Raazi, not only did we get to learn an epic tale but we also saw an empowered woman leading the way. Which brings us to why Reese Witherspoon got her company to look at books as source material in the first place. She says she and her daughter realized in every movie she starred in, there is a moment when she looked at her male lead and asked, “What do we do now?” She says in hindsight, it’s downright ridiculous and women have always been able to figure out their way despite the terrible situations they have found themselves in. She was, therefore, looking for women-drive and women-authored novels. Her company ended up producing Big Little Lies and Little Fire Everywhere – both based on books and both written by women! The ratings proved what a success both of these shows have been.

- The Endgame

In this day and age, there is not only a steady source of content but also a number of channels available by means of which these content could be shared. Now, more than ever, good stories are being told. Both books from yesteryears and contemporary times are being made into web series or films. And the OTT platforms have proved that there indeed is something for everyone – the large-scale movie industry is certainly following their lead.

[lifestylehappyplace]

NIGHT TIME IN PATONG: Note: the crocodile we did not eat! Yuk! @fit_dad_365 Bangla road activities when the sun goes down. Loud, crazy, lady boy Patong. The icecream is great especially at 9pm at night when its a mere 29 degrees. No kids with us tonight. Babysitter happy. Easy money. #ustime #coupletimewithoutbaby #datenight #crazynightlife #timeout (at Bangla Walking Street) https://www.instagram.com/lifestylehappyplace/p/Bv2lfMJlzuU/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=e2g0j437ysiq

[hannahwayward-blog]

Kolkata Day 4: “All This Weird Beauty, Thrown Right at Me”

Tuesday, my fourth day in Kolkata, dawned far too early as I had fallen asleep at 4:00 the previous afternoon. After unsuccessfully trying to sleep, I finally made my way downstairs for the hotel’s breakfast around 8:30. Much to the enjoyment of the waiter, I ordered a “real Indian breakfast” of tortilla-like breads and potatoes in sauce. Taking my banana for the road, I headed to New Market for some retail therapy, which I felt was well-deserved after the long journey to Dakshineswar on Monday.

New Market is the oldest indoor shopping mall in the world, built around the S. S. Hogg meat market. Going as a Caucasian Westerner is intimidating, even in a group, but going alone was exhausting. As soon as I arrived after the quick walk from my hotel, I was accosted by porters telling me to follow them to the best shops, saying that they would give me the best prices, vying for my patronage. I shunned them, but one relentless older man followed me, and so I let him lead me to an “emporium.” This shop turned out to be the same shop from which I’d bought scarves, a ring, and a tapestry during my last trip to Kolkata, and which had benefited greatly from my DukeEngage group’s almost-weekly visits. Notorious amongst us for the insane prices they tried to charge and aggressive haggling required, I declined to buy anything here and asked my porter to show me to a place to buy shoes. The shop seemed familiar, and may have been the place from which I bought handmade flats last time. I was looking for a pair of leather, closed-toe sandals to add to my travel wardrobe, since the only shoes I’d packed were my trusty Chacos. I found a pair I liked, and after some back and forth, paid Rs. 1900 for them - about $30 USD. This was more than I’d intended to spend the entire day, but I liked the shoes and lacked the strength in numbers to feel empowered to haggle more.

From the shoe shop we went to a store selling pants, scarves, skirts, and other fabrics. I knew I wanted a pair of black pants and a black “om” scarf, similar to the white and red one I’d bought during my first visit. Somehow I ended up paying Rs. 1500 for the pants (WAY too much, and I don’t even like the pants that much - they’re way too ~white girl visits India ~ with multicolored elephants and bells on the drawstrings) and Rs. 1000 for the scarf. Feeling elated, but also a little defeated, I left the market accompanied by the porter and paid him my balance after visiting an ATM.

I wanted to take photos inside the market, so after he set me on a course back to Sudder Street I turned around and headed back inside. I spent probably 15 minutes taking photos of the meat market and the surrounding streets before a young man began following me. Usually I can deter the followers by a shake of my head, a stern “na,” or simply ignoring them, but this man was not to be dissuaded. He kept asking for a “shelfie” with me, which I declined, and continued to tail me as I wove through the meat stalls. I was feeling a bit unsettled, when I saw what I thought would be salvation - a mid-20s, Caucasian man buying beef. I hustled over to him and struck up a conversation, but the man was more of a boy, and totally oblivious to the hints I was dropping that I was being followed. My “daddy,” he told me, “works for Exide, the battery company, and we’ve lived here a year and a half. Enjoy your time here” And with that, I was left with my trailing Bengali man again. Luckily, my porter soon found me and I told him I was being tailed. He quickly ushered me out of the market, told me I shouldn’t be there by myself, and sent me on my way yet again.

Again feeling defeated, I made my way over to Cafe Coffee Day with the help of the map on my phone (and no help from my porter or any locals, who didn’t seem to know what it was). There, I had a latte, and spoke very bad Bangla with the waitress and the host. After spending some time collecting myself, I decided to head over to the Mother House. It appeared that the walk would take about an hour, and I pulled out my camera and went on my way 

The walk was pleasant -- there had been a tremendous thunderstorm on Monday night, and the day was cooler (still in the 100s, but cooler) and cloudy. I took pictures of beautiful, crumbling colonial palaces, walked by shop after shop selling foods and drinks and sweets - and stopped for my favorite Bengali sweet, the dripping, luscious gulab jamun - and felt completely at home amidst the heat and the filth and the bustle. When I arrived at the Mother House, it turned out I had stopped at the wrong place, it was actually a branch of the Missionaries of Charity; the Mother House was further down the road. A young street girl, 19 years old when I asked her age, offered to walk me to the real Mother House. I knew as soon as we started walking that this was going to end in a scam, but I was exhausted from fending off beggars and yellers and askers and attention-grabbers and so I let it happen.

Her name, she said, was Kokomoni. She was married with a one year-old child, she said, and her husband, much older, had fallen out of love with her and was interested in another woman. She worked at a hotel as a cleaner. Recently, she hadn’t been able to produce enough milk for her child, and so “please, ma’am,” she asked, “please buy me some powdered milk. No money, just milk.” Sigh. Upon doing some research once I arrived at the Mother House, after buying her the milk (which cost Rs. 350!!), I did some research. Apparently this is a classic scam, and the milk is shortly exchanged for cash, of which the shop owner takes a cut.

Not only had I just been ripped off, but the Mother House was closed. Double sigh. And my phone had just run out of rupees. Triple sigh. I was exhausted - tired of being stared at whistled at and yelled at, tired of sticking out. I sat on the stoop of the House for a bit, collecting myself yet again, and then decided to go down to my old neighborhood.

From Park Street, I took the metro down to Kalighat. My first order of business was to purchase a chicken egg roll from our beloved Bavarchi, one block up from our old home. To my dismay, Bavarchi was closed! There were two new restaurants in its place, one Chinese and one offering rolls. I got a chicken roll, which was almost (but not quite) as good as the ones I was used to. Chicken rolls in West Bengal aren’t the Chinese type that comes to mind, but deep fried naan-esque bread rolled around kabaab-cooked chicken and veggies. I ate it as I walked through the neighborhood and made my way down to Rabindra Sadan Lake, where I spent an uneventful hour or two walking the lakeside path.

When I left the lake, I decided to head to the Gariahat street market to get mehendi (henna), since I remembered having it done outside the Spencer’s grocery store there six years back. As I waited beside I chai stall to cross the street, I saw teeny little kittens darting around the stall’s wheels. I squealed, and a older lady sitting on one of the benches grinned. As I knelt down to try to entice one of the kittens to come closer, the woman was more successful, and lured a kitten to her only to snatch it up by the scruff of the neck and hold it out to me. Thrilled, I cuddled the distraught kitten for a moment before setting it down, thanking the kind lady with “dhono badh” (that’s a very butchered, phonetic spelling), and crossing back up to Rash Behari road.

I walked through Kalighat and the fruit and veggie market, then through rows and rows of saris and salwar kameez and backpacks and umbrellas before finding an entire row of mehendi stalls. I plopped down on one and told them I could spend 100 Rupees only - last time we got mehendi we got gloriously swindled into paying like 1500 apiece - to which they agreed. Apparently, each side of a hand costs Rs. 50, so I got the palm of each hand painted and then sat with the stall owners, Olima and Ashok, for a bit while my hands dried. They laughed with me as I sputtered out different phrases in broken Bangla, and taught me the words for big cat and little cat as we watched a cute orange and white kitten weave in and out of the stalls. The neighboring stall sold hair clips and bindis, and the young boy running the stall watched in amusement as I worked on “choto biral” (small cat) and “bolo biral” (big cat).

I took the metro back up once my mehendi was dry-ish, used another roadside bathroom stall for Rs. 2, and arrived back at my hotel around 6:00. My plan was to sleep early since I had been awake so early, but I was super hungry. Begrudgingly, I ordered the overpriced room service, and called it a night pretty late. 

The phrase that kept repeating itself during my self-guided walking tour of the city was (don’t judge me) Lady Gaga’s “Beautiful, Dirty, Rich.” Kolkata is the most beautiful city I’ve ever seen, and it’s difficult for me to describe why to people who haven’t been. The old world colonial buildings are streaked with dark lines from years of torrential downpours, and the newer buildings are painted in bright reds and blues and yellows. All of this clamors for space amidst the jungle, which fights against the city to overtake it, striking a tenuous balance of lush and green and industrial and manmade. The city  busy and loud, and no one can argue that it’s clean. Excrement from hordes of homeless people and from goats and cows and cats and dogs, garbage and food due to the lack of a strict municipal garbage system; the aromas of street food and sweets; and the sweat of millions of bodies all mix together to create an aroma that is, at best, disturbing, and at worst, gag-inducing. Piles of garbage line the streets and the air is full of haze from the gasoline of thousands of taxis and autorickshaws and motors and cookfires. And yet - every person, especially the women, greet me with a smile. People talk loudly and animatedly and argue and hold hands and sing. Indian music blares from car radios and the speakers of the shops. It’s intoxicating. It’s beautiful, dirty, and rich in every sense except for financially. There’s nowhere else like it. I’ve said hundreds of times that it’s exhausting, and it’s even moreso traveling there alone. Without the solidarity of travel companions, I stand out that much more. I am never alone and never not being stared at. I never blend in. As a friend in Bangalore helped me articulate, I know the city, but the city doesn’t know me. It’s almost unnerving at times, but still, the city has its hooks in me. I love it more than I’ll ever be able to convey, even when I hate it - and sometimes, I loathe the filth and the heat and the crowdedness. But I still love it, and it will always feel like another home.

[above8inch]

Many Bangla matrimony sites

Her clothes combined bold colours and bangle mehndi design 2016  vintage shape, and she used fruit-shaped accessories, particularly hose down melons, as part of her outfits. This luxury is much important because it means the love and strength of their marriage life. Also, you may want to wear a good pair of open shoes or slippers. In fact, most traditional bridal mehndi designs are formed by combinations of simple geometric shapes like circles, triangles and curves.

are now available for boys and girls to select their own partners. A stencil is placed in your skin and then the ink is sprayed on. In several countries such as India and Pakistani Mehndi on the other hand, is the most detailed and intricate of the lot. This is to be done with the flat palm rather than vigorously massaging with fingers that can break or pull hairs easily.

[tulika04]

My strange affair with Bengal and Bangla..

“Tor e shokal ghum bhenge dite pari… Toke boshonter din dite pari.. amake khuje de jolphoring!” My relation with Bengal is like the siblings. When we are together we drive each other crazy. But when away it’s an unbearable longing to be back and embrace with promises of never leaving again (which btw is totally false promise). All those of us have spent most of our lives or atleast some years away from Bengal feels this tug of some invisible thread pulling us to this land of culture progress and variety. There is something in the air that invariably becons us to return for few days atleast. Where ever we might be it always feels home. Yes, sometimes the over friendliness can act somewhat of a dampener. But there is more to this land than “rosogolla” and “misti doi”. Having spent college years in Kolkata I can vouch, the Kolkata the young crowd that I have encountered is a vibrant lot ful of energy, progressive mindset and brilliance. From Jadu Babur bazar to Esplanade, from Eden gardens to gol badir mangsho, from college Street to Jadavpur university campus and more there is history and modernity entwined in every lane and by-lanes. Yes true sometimes they are called “mumma’s boys”. But who aren’t?? What I have gathered traveling in India boys from anypart have this similarity. They love their mom! Epic!! What amazes me is the way their women are treated. Given full liberty and always encouraged to pursue their passion. May be this is what Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, Tagore, Raja Ram Mohan Roy dreamt of and more. They started a renaissance. We have a lot to learn. Bengal is not just Kolkata. It is the only state to touch the feet of mighty Himalaya and at the same time lucky to be kissed by the waves of Bay of Bengal. Have you spent a night in the jungle of dooars? It’s an experience you can not forget easily. The sound of “madol” ( tribal drums) and the rhythmic steps of the tribes dancing, The moon high up trying to find a glance through the canopy of the trees and not too far, the mountains standing tall in silence as if challenging you “ dare you forget these!”.. it all sets the backdrop of a mystical night. You can not miss the “bhatiyal” song of the “Majhi"s ( boatmen) . I have been fortunate in taking a trip down the Teesta (one of the major river of North Bengal) and had been mesmerized by the bhatiyal song. The “Lal pahar and Ranga matir Desh” (red mountain and red soil) Birbhum plateau, you can not forget, if you are in love the “Baul” songs (folk song) the Baul singers bring out the best of the tunes with just an “ektara”. In the days of fine tuning songs and voices what they manage to do is something of real talent. How can the Digha and Mondarmoni trips be forgotten? The soft sand and waves between the feet and the feel of the sea. Yes yes I know. Digha is “over crowded” “has become dirty” etc etc who are to be blamed for that? Anyways.. Mondarmoni will always be the escape for everyone from college gangs to families. So when Shaan sings “o Majhi re” ( from bong connection) one can’t possibly help the feel of the nostalgia. The fields, meadows, rivers mountains all seem to call out. “Chelebelar swapno sob geche hariye/Majhi re.. Tumi dekhecho ki take” . How much irritated pissed I get, I can’t help miss this land. It has memories of the times I would always cherish and hold this close to my heart.

[teaxtan]

Recently, I’ve gone to Phuket with Ben and Liz for a four day three night trip. It was a very very well rested trip which was great honestly, after all the intense social activities we did during the festive seasons! We also joked that this is in preparation for longer trips we want to take in the future when we’re married and have kids and want to take a break from them lol. Yknow, to check that we actually can survive without the boys LOL:

Day 1: we arrived, got to the resort and we headed out to have lunch near Patong beach at a really expensive restaurant with a really lovely view (resort recommended), had a massage and went back to the resort to rest. Then we went to have dinner (Yums!) and then we walked down Bangla street which was really eye opening hahaha Day 2: we signed up for a day trip out to phi phi island (we read tones of bad reviews online and we were really expecting a very bad trip, however we were pleasantly surprised as our guide was very well versed with the area and brought us to really great and beautiful snorkelling sites!!), had a massage once we reached back to Patong and then headed to a local night market for dinner Day 3: Liz and I parasailed and we screamed our hearts out quite literally, then we banana boated and then we went for another massage, then we went for lunch at the Thai restaurant and went back for a swim @ the resort before settling dinner at our resort’s restaurant hahaha Day 4: we took a tuktuk out to Phuket city and hopped around 3 cafes, reading and just chilling. Then we went to try “the best crab curry in Phuket”, which was kinda disappointing because we had better ones in Krabi. We headed back to Patong shortly after to pick up our luggage and head to the airport. Our flight delayed and we all felt like death the next day despite all the rest we took during the trip!! Meh. Hahaha

[chiseltipzine]

“Every time we stand on a stage it changes somebody’s world” - Ajah UK Interview

[Photo credit: Karen McBride]

‘Unique’ is one word to describe AJAH UK’s music. ‘Infectious’, ‘vibrant’ and ‘uplifting’ are amongst others. The Manchester-based 5-piece make dynamic instrumental, alternative hip-hop and firmly align themselves with challenging everyday racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, classism and more. Last Summer, I met with their charismatic co-MC Jaheda Choudhury-Potter at Manchester’s arts centre HOME and she spoke sincerely about the band’s history, sexism in music culture, Manchester music, racism in LGBTQI+ community, Sh!t Lesbian Disco, future plans and more.

This interview has been edited for readability purposes. On how the band formed and got their name… So let’s start with the name first. [Co-MC] Samira was born here in the UK in West London, and her first South Asian word was ‘ajah’ which means ‘come here’. So in Bangla, Urdu, Punjabi, Hindi – all of those you can say ‘ajah’ and everybody within South Asia knows. That was her first word, it’s also a really funky word cos you can say it in all different tones. The South Asian language is very tonal so one word can mean a million things depending on the tone you use. So that’s the beauty of it. Myself and [co-frontwoman] Samira became friends. We met at Manchester where she was studying. I was looking for sexy women for a calendar for Black Angel, which is a queer night. It was black women centered, advertised for and attended by majority black women, which was a great thing. It was one of the first places in Manchester in my twenties I walked into and thought ‘shit I’m alright, I’m not on my own – boom!’ and I started helping and organising, setting the night up and volunteered to do some bits and pieces and part of that was to create this calendar. So I met Samira because she’s absolutely beautiful, so I just went up to her and said ‘I’m doing this etc, do you want to be in it?’ And so time goes on and we did the lesbian thing of dating, we were together for like 3 years. And in that time, we discovered that both of us are writers and like writing creatively so we went to this workshop which was held in [Manchester’s] Contact theatre. We liked what we did – we liked how we both thought about the world. So not only were we dating and together, not only did we like writing but we liked how we thought about the things that were happening. We just thought ‘well let’s make a band’, cos that’s what you do. Initially, most people… you don’t realise that boys and girls can be musicians. Cos it’s only boys you ever see. We also came with the wrong and deluded idea that even if there are girl musicians, probably the boy ones are better. No real logical reason why, you just have a feeling that boys are better. And so that’s what we went with. In some aspects, they were just there. It wasn’t that they were better, there were just more of them. It’s harder to find the women, and because women don’t necessarily get the opportunities as easy as the boys. There’s not that many of them doing it. So it was hard. So initially we got together with these three lads – bass player, guitarist and drummer. Initially, everything was all good. But we kept having… I haven’t found the equivalent yet for misogyny but you know when I bump into people and they ask me really simple questions, like as soon as they find out that I’m Asian. I call it the chicken curry question. So they’ll ask me something really dumb like ‘so do you like samosas?’ or ‘did you have to run away from an arranged marriage?’. So I call all those chicken curry questions cos it’s just bullshit – you’ve not taken a second to hear the sound of my voice. And I understand that your heart is in the right place cos what you’re trying to do is connect with me. But you’ve not connected to humanity which means you can’t connect to me. I’m simply a human being. If you look at me simply because of the colour of my skin, then it’s not humanity that you’re looking at, you’re looking at this melanin that’s risen to the top of my skin. And you’re making all these pre-judged ideas. I might not even know what chicken curry tastes like, I might not know anything about my south Asian culture, I might just be adopted, I might not have had a south Asian upbringing. All sorts of things. But the presumption has been made. So it’s the same thing with misogyny.

I find idiotic men say idiotic things, like… My voice is a deep voice, I’ve got quite a deep voice. I can sing low alto, tenor but I can’t sing top end of alto and I certainly can’t do soprano. On a lucky day, I might hit a lucky note but ask me to do that twice and it’s not happening. So my voice wasn’t beautiful enough for them and they were constantly trying to change it. Which made me feel like I couldn’t sing because they’re telling me to sing it in a high E and I can’t even fucking think about where that is, nevermind sing it! So it was just like every time I couldn’t get it, I felt shit about myself and then we went to record and, as an MC… I mean, MCs differ in bars, lengths and things like that, and people have different perspectives on how it should be. But we pretty much spit in 16 bars. And I mean… so if I’m spitting 16 bars about something, I’m gonna be spitting a story that has a linear, following thing going on. If now somebody comes along and takes the first two bars and moves it down to the bottom 16 bars and then takes the 8th bar and moves it to the 6th bar, and then takes the 6th bar… It’s not my story anymore, it’s something else. And that’s what happened. We went in, we spat our hearts out, sang, did whatever we could do, and we came back, thinking this is how we think it’s going to sound, and it totally didn’t. And at the time, both myself and Samira – I suppose you could say we were naïve in the musical world and being a musician but the one thing we were not naïve in is: even if the world doesn’t like what we do, this is what we do. So if you’re gonna fuck with my shit, I’m gone. We were the ones that were just the lead singers and we were the ones that were just the face. We were the ones that the whole politics of the band was about. Two queer black women – in fact we’re not queer, we’re lesbians. Two lesbians standing up, two black lesbians. One who’s brought up Seventh Day Adventist, strict as fuck. One who was brought up as a Muslim, strict as fuck. And how we negotiate the world is what this band’s politics was about. But you’re stripping all of that cos what you think it’s about is pretty faces and sexy moves and cleavage and sticky-out breasts. The final straw was, or one of the final straws, was when we went to Sweden and did a couple of gigs. And one of the gigs was this lesbian feminist hardcore thing. These women were dusty, lentil, vegan, om-shanti-om, militant fuckers, like don’t mess with them! They got their shit locked, they live in little communes all over the world. So we’re talking about serious stuff – you’ve got to have a certain politics about you. Me and Samira rolled really easily, cos y’know they’re our people so it’s fine. As soon as we land, these amazing wonderful people [the organisers] picked us up at the airport which they didn’t have to do, and as we’re in the car the drummer turns round and says – and thinks it’s appropriate to say: ‘I don’t like it when women drink out of pint glasses, I’d prefer them to drink out of half-pint glasses’. The fact that a sentence like that in an age like this, in a time like this, exists in your head – there’s some serious screws loose. And then we discovered that him and his girlfriends had pink jobs and blue jobs. Just the level of heteronormative, sexist, misogynist crap – it was drowning us. But we somehow, the two of us… me and Samira – through all of this as well our relationship broke down, we’d been together for 3 years, and for our own personal things, we weren’t meant to be together, so through all of this, this is happening. We managed to get the album done. Soon as we get this album done, people want to interview me and Samira, because the lyrical content is about the same old shit every day. Feeling like you get to the end of your tether. But then the boys left us. In that crucial moment, they left us. And we were left without anybody for a year. But what we had was the playback tracks, just the instrumentals. So me and Samira put them into a CD player, found a stage and played. Somehow somewhere we just kept going. Because we don’t know anything else. Normal jobs… we both got degrees, we’re really well-educated. If we wanted to do Masters and PHDs and things like that, and become doctors and stuff, we have the opportunity. But it’s not our bag. We don’t wanna become the best lawyers, we don’t wanna own restaurants, we wanna just sing and dance. [Laughs] That’s just what we want to do! At the same time as singing and dancing, we wanna change the world. The more we stand up, I stand up, with these women on stage, every single we time we stand up on a single stage, it changes somebody’s world. Because they never thought that this group could exist – that people can be this close and be of these different ethnic origins. They can be of different religious backgrounds and still be friends. We’re all kind of lefty really. We might veer occasionally, have a moment of conservative right-wing, and then somebody will go [pretends to hit them] ‘oi! Stop it! Come back to reality! So we’ve always got that with each other.

So over the year that we weren’t together when the boys left us, we did these gigs. So I just kind of started looking [for other people]. I thought ‘you know what? Time for pussy’. This is what I’m good at – I’m good at women. I’m good at being around women, I love women, I argue with them well, I get together with them, I party with them well. I’m not compromising: I don’t care if the best male drummer, guitarist or bassist comes and I’ve got the option of best guitarist in men or kind-of-alright in women, I’m going with the kind-of-alright, and I’m gonna stick with what my heart is. And through the year, I met [drummer] Sophie, [bassist] Sarah, and we already knew [guitarist] Louise cos she’s a black lesbian in the scene in Manchester. So even though we didn’t know her, know her, we knew she existed. And I knew she played, she had a beautiful voice. She wasn’t amazing, so we asked her. And she was like ‘well I’ve got nothing to do at the moment, I’ve just come out of a job, let’s see what happens’. With Sarah, I’ve got a friend called Joe and he went to university with her and lived with her and he said she would be amazing. I went to meet her, she was working at the Student Union at the time – she still does but in London – didn’t know shit about her playing skills. All I knew was that Joe said she was fine. And that was enough for me. When I met her, my heart attached to her, and that was enough for me. I met Sophie doing a workshop which was led by a racist man… no, yeah – he was racist because he was white. What he did was – he was this white guy who ran this band where everybody else was a person of colour. So we’re doing this workshop on how all these people from all these backgrounds create music. It was at a refugee festival called Platform held at MMU [Manchester Metropolitan University]. First thing this knobhead says when he gets on stage “hi my name’s Tony, but people call me the slave-master”. My fanny fell on the floor. Cos all these black faces, who are refugees, who are seeking asylum and refuge in this country because of probably slave trade, probably all sorts of horrific shit, and you come along at a festival for these people and introduce yourself as [mimics his voice] ‘Tony the slave-master’. Pissed me off. That was the first piss-off. And then there was this white girl who turned out to be Sophie in the end – little country bumpkin, straight fringe, round little face with rosy cheeks, innocent little glasses. Everything about her was young and innocent and beautiful. And there was a Q&A thing. So she puts her hand up to ask a relevant question. He skips over this little innocent white girl to a black person. [With sarcasm] Because obviously this white person’s voice isn’t important, it’s only all the black people that he wants to hear. Which in itself is so horrifically racist and so horrifically fucking disgusting. On top of that – it was so disempowering for this child, she’s only in her early twenties, and you just disempowered her, you just made her feel that her question, her opinion, her hand, wasn’t relevant. That all her politics was shit. And so my heart went out to her. So the first thing I did when I got off the stage, went straight to her. I just went “hiya, my name’s Jaheda, what’s your?” and she goes “I’m Sophie”. And I said “I just wanna say I’m really sorry about that cunt over there, he has nothing to do with me and I think he’s an absolute idiot, and after today I’ll be resigning from working in this band.” And true to my word, I went home and wrote him an email and called him a racist, I pulled him up on everything that he’d done and resigned. And then I said to Sophie, y’know, who are you? There’s this young bright-looking person, who the fuck are you? I’m a mentor as well to young people so I automatically do that. And she said she was a drummer, at MMU doing a music degree. So I go “oh I’m looking for a drummer actually! Do you fancy drumming?” She goes “oh yeah, why not?” And on the 9th January 2013, we got together and had our first rehearsal as five women. On women’s roles in music... So for example, women’s role in music are: to sing very beautifully, look very pretty, writhe around on stage and attract sexual attention. There are a few of us that do that as well as the politics. Some of us just do that, some of us just do the politics. But a lot of the times, it’s really hard to keep going because every place you go to, somebody is telling you what you’re doing wrong. Nobody ever tells you when you rock it. They’re always telling you where you’re going wrong. They always want to be helpful. They’re always giving you a little pat on the back, a little pat of the head. Like Sophie and Sarah… Sarah is a fucking doctor of music. Bitch has a PHD. She’s Dr. Bass. Sophie has got a fucking degree – she got a decent grade, graduated really well, knows music, reads music, composes music, all of this shit. We go in to set up. Myself, Samira and Lou are self-taught. Lou has taken a few little bits and pieces but generally she’s self-taught. But we go in and we’ll have people wanting to help us set up. “Do you need a hand with the cymbals?” But the band before who were a bunch of guys – you didn’t help them! And they look wimpier than us! They didn’t even have half their equipment. We are sorted. I said, give us ten minutes, we’ll have it sorted, when I’m ready, we’ll ask you to start the sound check. Just patronising shit. And also things like… so for example, if there is a woman who is leading [a band] then that is a ‘female-led band’ even if she’s not writing the lyrics or anything like that. If now there’s a man who’s the front but all the musicians are women, that’s not [considered] women-led, but it’s like… that’s totally women-led! Just because the leader… We’re under the impression that the happy pretty one at the front with a mic in her hand is the one that everybody wants to know. But the real fucking — the liver, your heart, your bones, your thighs, your muscles, your kidneys are the musicians. And if those musicians are three women or four women, they make your band, it’s a women-led band. I’ve been to festivals and things that won’t have bands that are majority women as musicians but have a male lead and do you know how hard it is for those women to get gigs because of that reason? So take from that what you will. On where they fit in Manchester’s music community… I think we are… At the moment mainstream hip-hop hasn’t caught up with us but mainstream hip-hop hasn’t caught up with the underground anyway. I think that we fit into Manchester’s music scene because everybody in Manchester who plays music is a bit odd. Even if you think they look normal, they’re not. And it’s one of the beauties of Manchester: the music. It’s one of the reasons why, that when the factories and the mills went back in the days of Thatcherism in Lancashire and all the cotton mills and factories and things, when they went the city itself didn’t suffer didn’t suffer as much as a city like Sheffield. The music… There’s something about the people in Manchester, there’s something about the energy of  Manchester that forces you to make music. There’s a basement everywhere, you can go and practice, there’s somebody touting somewhere. It’s not expensive to get to places, it’s not too expensive to live. It’s not London, where you can’t breathe because most of your money goes on rent so you haven’t go the time to go and rehearse or the money to put in to rehearsals because two-thirds of your money’s gone on rent, then the other third is left for some bills and possibly a bit of lettuce at the end of the day. You know what I mean? You’ve got be rich and be a musician in London. Or fucking lucky as hell. In Manchester, you may never make it big, we may never be Beyoncé, we may never even be Elbow. But we will always play music and Manchester gives us that. It gives us buildings like HOME which have still got to find its feet cos it’s a little pretentious. But the hipsters need somewhere to go! It’s provided! So that’s how we kind of fit in, because everything’s a little fucked up in Manchester as far as the music. We find that we do lots of variations of gigs. We choose to do gigs where there’s a majority-female audience. Mathematically, if you think about it, over half the world’s population are women. So if we only concentrated on women, we could make a living. And then some. Not a single man would need to buy our equipment, buy our music or anything. If only women bought our music, we’d make a living. We’d be able to buy a house. We don’t make a massive effort to do the conventional hip-hop scene or to play in a conventional place. There are plenty of bands that do the conventional thing. So what we do is, where there are audiences that don’t get decent stuff, we believe we are the decent stuff. And we are decent, we’re fucking shit hot. And everywhere we go, women absolutely love us. And that’s it, I don’t care about anything else. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. On how Manchester affects the band’s sound and lyrics… [Manchester]’s a casserole of humans, isn’t it? Because, unlike London, it’s not so spread apart, all of us congregate in town centre at some point or another. So you can’t just be somebody who’s never seen a white person. You can’t just be somebody who’s never seen a black person or a brown person. When you’re in Manchester, you can’t be that person. You’re automatically forced into multiculturalism. And I’m not just talking about black and white, I’m talking about gay, straight, bi, black, white, old, young, homeless, rich, poor, in the middle. Also job opportunities and creative opportunities. Manchester is a haven for creativity. We’ve got Manchester International Festival which is absolutely outstanding. We’ve got places like Contact Theatre, which is an amazing place for young people to explore their theatrical-ness, their creative-ness. We’ve got places like Royal Exchange, again, the [Greater Manchester] Commission create amazing pieces of work as well as receive some amazing pieces of work – it’s in The Round! It’s in The Round! It’s absolutely bloody amazing. Did you watch King Leer? It came to King Leer. It was absolutely outstanding. Outstanding performance. Long as fuck, but outstanding. There’s a brand new place called Library Theatre. Fabulous building. Loads to do – y’know it’s just been built, it’ll take 10 years to find its roots, get a bit of moss on it and for somebody to write some graffiti somewhere and say ‘this place is shit’. And do stuff like that. In Manchester, you’re accountable. You can’t get away with it. You can’t get away with being ignorant because right in front of your face, there’s always an ‘other’ to what you are. And that’s the music.

On the politics behind ‘Don’t Step On My Shoe’… ‘Don’t Step On My Shoe’ – yes we talk about the shoe thing and people think it’s funny, but for a poor black person to spend £80 on a pair of shoes and then have them stood on: that’s political. When you’re walking down the road and you’re just minding your own business, and somebody – whether those pair of shoes, you bought them from a thrift shop or you spent £100,000 on them – if somebody steps on them and doesn’t even acknowledge you’re existence and walks on, you’re just left feeling like ‘I swear to God I left my invisible cape at home today’. Today I want to be visible. And now I’ve got a mark on my shoe which means nothing to nobody. As a Muslim person, as a person of south Asian descent, one of the ways of respect and disrespect is your feet. So I kick you, it’s disrespect. If I touch your feet and bring my hand to my heart, I’m asking for your blessing to exist. I’m asking for your blessing to say ‘you can drink that beer’. I might not have to, but I love and respect you enough to ask by lowering my head and… The shoe, the feet – all of that comes into it. And you know, songs like that, that’s what it’s about. If you break down the lyrics, you can hear the lyrics and my lyrics are Bengali as well. But it’s fun because we wanna make it fun. And when you see us do it live, you can see the irritation in our faces and how we introduce it. So that’s what that is.

On racism and sexism in the LGBTQI+ community… Being gay in the gay community, it doesn’t prevent us from stupidity. We’re just as stupid as everybody else. We just as racist. We’re just as homophobic! We’re just a misogynist. It’s just because we’re a smaller community, or the perception is we’re a smaller community, there’s a magnifying glass on it. Racism in the queer community is rife. It’s rife. It’s just as rife as everywhere else in Manchester, in the UK. We can’t escape it because society is built on it. Our country is built on it. Imperialism, the empire, the UK is proud, England is proud of the empire, whether they want to say it out loud – they are proud. Having the Commonwealth, you got the Commonwealth Games, for fuck’s sake, still. That’s racist, your highness! It is a racist sports, the only reason people even go into it is because sports people need a stage to do their thing. So when the Olympics ain’t on, the Commonwealth is on. It’s like, your shit is racist, which means our shit is going to be racist. So it is. And we battle it every day. We’ve got organisations like Rainbow Noir who go to the front lines of  things and   question things. We’ve got Iman, we’ve got Kiss. Organisations that are London-based LGBT South Asian poc organisation – if it wasn’t for them, for example, when first left home, I never would’ve realised that there was others. Somebody put me in touch, and I found out there was a club called Club Carly and there were fucking Asians everywhere! In the middle of London! There was hundreds and hundreds in a big massive club with Saris on. There was drag queens and drag kings that were all Asian. There were lezzers and gays and bis and trans and everything, everything! And they were all brown. They all spoke the language I spoke. They all smelt slightly of curry. And nobody had to apologise cos it was alright. I didn’t have to feel a little like ‘oh shit I had some curry today and I was a bit sweaty and then my white friend…’ – none of that! We just rolled!

So it was great. Prides all around the country let you know how racist they are. Simply because the forefront of Pride is white, and it’s now so commercial it’s all about Asda and Tesco and ‘police with pride’. That shit – it’s an oxymoron. Don’t you get it? Pride and commercialism is an oxymoron. Pride and police is an oxymoron. It’s an oxy-fucking-moron. These motherfuckers do not like you, they just want your money or want to arrest you. Just because some of us are gay, it doesn’t mean the rest of the police force are all up for it. You don’t see all the straight police officers coming out, it’s all the gay coppers. It’s all the gay coppers that are mincing down the street. I tell you what, all of you MET police officers, you come out and march with us , if you believe in what you’re saying you believe in, every single one of you come out. Keep a few of you so you can keep the peace, cos you know, we need it in case somebody burgles something, and then the rest of you come out. But no – it’s only the gay ones that come out. So how is it that you’re actually with us? Cos you’re not. The only time black people are part of it is if we’re on stage, it’s only the acceptable blacks or the acceptable browns or the acceptable pocs. And it just… [despairs] – it makes you feel like that. And women’s spaces… Apparently the L in the LGBT doesn’t mean anything. So we can just take away women’s space. There’s no women’s space. London Pride doesn’t have a women’s space, Newcastle Pride doesn’t have a women’s space. Manchester Pride hasn’t had a women’s space for years. Gone.

On Sh!t Lesbian Disco… Me and the rest of the girls were going around for last two years gigging and whatever, we noticed a lot of people – black women, white women – were telling us how levels of various racism and how women’s spaces are being cut, or being made inclusive, and all that kind of stuff. So we turn around and we said to them, if we do something, we’re going to put our money where your mouth is. Something big and something regular. Are you going to put your money where your mouth is? So we went around for 6 months, myself and Sophie, cos the others were really busy working but we kept going back to each other and catching up, making sure. 6 months all around Manchester looking for venues. Every single venue said no as soon as I said – and this is the deal breaker – all your staff have to be women. All the bar staff, the security staff and the cloakroom staff. Every single person in this building either has to be a cisgender women or a transgender women but they have to identify as a woman to work on the night that we’re proposing. And they all said no. Apparently it’s impossible, apparently women don’t come out, women don’t spend money, etc, etc. and I thought ‘do you know how much money I’ve got?’ and I’ve got nowhere to spend it cos you think that’s the case. So, there’s a club Rebellion, walked into there, this Eastern European guy who looks a like a throwback to Sons of Anarchy with his motorbike, his helmet and his leathers there. Had a meeting with him, walked into this building and it was fucking beautiful. Absolutely outstanding. And I saw this guy and all my prejudices kicked in, I thought ‘ugh, he’s gonna say no.’ He’s a biker and he’s a rocker, he’s not going to understand what I’m talking about. He was the only person who said yeah, without compromise, without question without batting an eyelid. In fact, he said ‘I’m not gonna organise the security but here is the number of the person that I always work with and she is the owner of this company, Serenity Security, and she will provide you with an all-female security staff.’ And we called the night Shit Lesbian Disco. It’s 800 women [capacity] and we decided to make it 700 because it would’ve been too packed. Sold it out! Sold. It. Out. We played on that night as well, a bit of nepotism, no harm in that, and we also put a shitload of work in. What we did is, we did it a little incognito, we didn’t let people know who we were. Cos if you know me, you’ll have preconceived ideas of who I am and what I may do. If you don’t know what’s going on but you just see what’s happening, then what’s happening should interest you more than me. Because we’re quite popular – in our little tiny pond – I didn’t want to do that so we kept the intrigue and mystery. We called ourselves – we opened this new facebook under Femeline Dankhirst, and that’s myself and Sophie, put this night on. Sold the fucker out!

Women came from all over the country. From Swansea, from Newcastle, from London, from Devon, from Bolton, Leeds, literally all over the place. And there’s a Premier Inn just round here, so I went in, not that I made a deal with them, but I got them to keep a certain amount of rooms free for this amount of time, and the ones they hadn’t booked by this date, get them into public. And people booked all those rooms out, sorted. So Premier Inn got some business. And the dude who owns [Rebellion], I said to him, on the night, when it starts, by half 9, you have to leave the building, you can’t be in the building. And he goes ‘that’s no problem, I’ll have my first Friday off in year!’ Literally it was a breeze for him. The idea of a women’s night initially was a little bit unsure… It’s a massive club so I’m expecting him to trust me. I’ve got no experience, it’s not like I’m coming with a portfolio of club nights I’ve run. This is the first thing we’ve ever done. With Black Angel, I helped [organiser] Claude, so I don’t know anything about organising, I just did what Claude told me to do or handed out flyers or found the models for the Black Angels calendar. But not what it takes to organise a night and book a venue – never done that. So we worked this out on the flyer really, no problem. On the night, him and his dad went across the road, sat in a bar and watched the queue and the bar all full up. He went from calling me ‘Jaheda’ to calling me ‘babe’ the next day! And so now we’ve booked the next 4 years at Rebellion. We’ve got a four-year plan. We’re gonna do two a year and on the fifth year, which is 2020, we’re gonna do a festival, Shit Lesbian Festival or Shit Lesbian Disco, we don’t know yet. But we’ve got five years to work it out. Same principle – so if we hire an entire area, anybody who works that comes from here, they all have to be women. We’re looking at hiring a big resort. Fingers crossed, touchwood, we’ll probably be able to accommodate about a 1500 women. That’s what we’re looking at. With camping and chalets. We’ve got 5 years to find it. I’ve already kind of looked around. I want it by the beach and I want it in the Summer. So it’s like ‘I want, I want, I want, I want!’ It’s like [mimics being a child]. But I don’t care anymore, I’m like… I am so bored of being told, I’ve been told and told and told and told. As a fucking Asian girl, I was told that I had to behave. As a fucking young Asian woman, I was told that I had to get ready to be married. As a young adult, I was told that I couldn’t be, then I was told that I could be. All my life, as this woman, as this vessel… Cos my mind is the computer that could be of anyone’s mind. This is just the body that I’m taking over is a vessel. And because of this vessel, I’m being told how to live and what to do and what to think and how to dress.

On dealing with the press… Well, we’re not great at press because we’re too busy rehearsing and hanging out together and gigging. We are looking for a manager who can — who’s got the cunt to stand up for us and do the things that she needs to do. I suppose we also need a woman or a really fucking strong man, I’m not sure. Personally I want a woman because I’m always about wanting women but I’m not closed down to a great man. Cos Joe, who recommended Sarah, is a great man, and I love him dearly and I’ve got loads of respect for who he is. So I’m not a man-hater, I just have very few men in my world because most of them are stupid. People still ask, like yourself. We kind of wait… in some ways, it’s almost a bit like, if you get it and you see it, then you’ll ask us. If you don’t, then why chase you? So here and there, like when we went to Toronto and did World Pride in the first year of us getting together. We let some press know over there that we were coming so they did a quick skype interview. When we did Germany, L-Beach in Hamburg, we got together with L Mag. Bizarrely, I met the L Mag editor at the Toronto Pride because she’s this sexy butch dyke and I’ve got a thing about butch women. I just go weak at the knees, I can’t help myself [laughs]. I’m like a pathetic little dick. Normally I’m not like that but give me a sexy butch dyke and I’m a dickhead. So I was an absolute dickhead, and I was in my girlie femme long black dress and everything and a bit drunk and a bit stoned. And I see this butch dyke sat down on this chair outside this lesbian club that we were in, in Toronto, and I just seen her there sitting there looking all cool and shit. So I went over, “[puts on high-pitched voice] hi is it possible that I could just sit here?” She looked so amazing. And we got away with so much cos we’ve got English accents. And we just got chatting, cos I might be a bit of an initial dick, but that dick doesn’t last, cos at the end of the day I don’t want people to have the impression that I’m just this fucking airhead. So very soon, within a matter of a minute the crush was over and the conversation began. And then we worked out who we were and I told her we were doing this L-Beach thing and whatever and she said she was going so she said when we get back to Manchester let’s have an interview so we can be covered for L Beach. And that’s what happened. When we do London, I might get in touch with… what’s it called? Ah…shit….some queer press thing! I get in touch with them and they’ll put something on. But generally the people we do a gig for, they do the promotion. I’d love to be able to have the patience and skill to deal with journalists and try and get interviews with the MEN [Manchester Evening News]. We got one interview with the MEN but that was when we were with the boys. And they called us ‘hippie hip-hop’ because we needed to come across as these happy people. We’re just not hippie. Well, we are but we’re not.

On what they want people to take from their music… When you watch us, we want you to think ‘fuck off, did you just do that?!’ and then we want you to go away thinking ‘I’m alright man! It’s alright for me to be me’. That’s what we want you to go away with. We want you to think that whoever you may be, as a woman, there’s nothing that you do wrong. There’s nothing that you do that’s weird. There’s nothing to make you… y’know, don’t feel insecure. If you’ve got something you want to do, do it. Don’t make an apology for existing, that’s what want you to — go away with. There’s no real message of like… We just want you to go away with seeing the five of us bond on stage. It’s like, ‘we can do this together guys!’ We can take over fucking patriarchy and stand it on its head. Look what we can do together. If we can jump up and down in rhythm, we can fucking rule the world. Look at what those fuckers did in Iceland. One day – every woman stepped out of their jobs, their homes, their lives, the very next year it was equal pay. Do y’know what I mean? We can do this shit but we’ve been duped, as women we’ve been duped, into believing stupid things like ‘women don’t come out to buy things, women aren’t very good at being musicians, they can’t be successful lawyers because they have to have babies.’ We’ve been duped into all of this. And it’s not that we can’t be excellent lawyers, and we can’t be the partners of the firm, it’s because having that child isn’t regarded as a fucking important thing of the human race continuing. It should be without question, that every fucking building that has adults working in, should have a crèche. It should be a given. Cos every man, woman came from the vagina – or very fucking close [laughs]. So the reason why women can’t succeed and people who take care of children can’t succeed is because they’re being duped into believing that they can’t. It’s not because they can’t, but because – it’s not expensive to put a fucking crèche in, it’s not that you’re not employing people cos also you’re employing people to run the crèche. You’ve got somewhere where your child is safe. Whether you’re the waiter or the CEO.

On their writing process… Sometimes we’ll come in and one of us will have a chorus, 4 bars, 8 bars or something like that. And then someone will be like ‘I’ve been thinking about this’ and then Lou will be like ‘well I’ve been thinking about this, do you think this goes with this?’ and then Sophie will be like this [imitates drum sounds], and then the bass and whatever. Sometimes someone will be like “I just had a fucking shit day” and then I just come into rehearsal, or Sarah’s like “I just had to be on this fucking train ride and this bastard guy was manspreading all over the place and I couldn’t flippin’ breathe, I nearly had an asthma attack and he didn’t even fucking look my way”, and then we’ll write something because of the emotion she’s feeling. It’s kind of organic. There’s no real way of doing it. I’ll have a method of writing that’ll be completely different to Samira’s and Sophie’s and Sarah’s and Lou’s. But then that method changes if I write a poem to a rap.

On their influences… All of us are influenced by things like, people like Skunk Anansie, Republica, Bollywood, Bangla folk, Welsh folk, Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, Elbow, walking down the road. Influences come from – you walk down the road with your backpack on and the little thing here creaks and as it’s creaking, cos you’re walking at a rhythm, the creak walks at a rhythm and suddenly you can just think of things. You can be influenced by something that you’ve seen as well as Rage Against the Machine. It’s theatre, we’re influence by theatre cos all of us pretty much work in theatre in one way or another. We’re influenced by all types of music. Weird, eclectic shit. Some of us hate jazz – [leans toward recorder] Sarah! Hates jazz! And hates funk. I love it. Love jazz, love funk. I’ll go the jazz festival and sit there all day. I even like improve-jazz which is some crazy shit, it can take you somewhere. Qawwali, Nusrat Fateh Khan, amazing vocalists, amazing lyricists. People like Obama. People like Margaret Thatcher, not necessarily a positive influence, but the rage. But still an influence nonetheless because love or hate her, she determined a massive two generations of human beings in the country. Yeah, influences are everything. You influence me. You just contacting me influences me. Audiences saying some daft shit.

On other Manchester artists they would recommend… LIINES. They’re fantastic. LIINES are very much like us, not in their style of music, but their live people. [Singer/guitarist] Zoe’s a live person. She’s fucking sorted, she’s got shit going on in her head, in her face, everything, you can’t get that across in the studio. Cos you can’t see her face on the album and you can’t see the way she just closes her eyes and sings those notes. You can’t see [drummer] Leila’s crazy head fucking going like this and the occasional beat she might miss because of whatever reason but on the album she’s hit it. Rage Against The Machine aren’t as good on audio as they are live. Live, their fucking amazing. Beyoncé, I think – people like Beyoncé for example, they are good [recorded] as well as live because…they’re a machine. And I’m not dissing her at all. She is an excellent human being to be where she is right now particularly for young black girls to see that you can do whatever you want to do, you can be whatever you want to be. And she’s not the first. Beyoncé, myself, LIINES – we’re the direct result of feminism. Particularly myself and Beyoncé, we’re the direct result of the civil rights movement. If it wasn’t for these movements, if it wasn’t for these activists, we wouldn’t be standing where we are now. We are the babies of the civil rights movement. The reason why Malcolm X said “by any means necessary” was so that I could stand on stage. So that my niece could be born. So that Samira could leave her home and be an individual human being and get educated. Same with Lou, same with Sarah, same with Zoe and LIINES. Other Manchester bands… I am so shit and so narcissistic. I know LIINES because I know the members. I knew them as [previous band] Hooker. And I love them. Um, who else? …This is so shit. Do you know what? It doesn’t matter, just go listen to bands, just listen to ‘em. Cos even if they’re shit, they’re doing something. And if they’re shit, just don’t listen to them, just know that they can exist and somebody likes them somewhere, just go about your business and see if there’s somebody else. Night and Day Café always has all this fantastic new bands, emerging bands. And Band on the Wall, not as many emerging but they have funky weird world stuff going on. There’s venues all over Manchester, little venues all over. In fact, Rebellion, every weekend you will see bands. They will blow your eardrums but they will play.

On upcoming releases… At this moment, we are literally working out dates to go into Blueprint and record a 5-track EP. And the next year, do an album, cos we’re hoping that with the EP, we’ll be able to get it out and get a manager or an independent record label. Because now, we’ve come to a point where we do need something to take off us a little bit. Because there are times where we go, particularly in Europe where we go, and fucking hell, it’s like we get mobbed. When we were in Sweden, because of me and Samira, literally we came off the stage and it was from off the stage, so the end of the bandstand is where the revolving door is there [about 50 metres from where we were sat], it took us about an hour to get from there to here because of the women that we had to walk through and they wanted us to sign and touch and… It would be great to know how to deal with things like that. And it would also be great to have somebody who’s not an artist who can chat the chat. Cos I get on [online] and I’m like ‘hi babes, yeah…’, like you see how I talked to you. Whereas a manager would probably come along and say ‘at this very moment in time, it’s inconvenient to…’ and make it in into a way that it sounds really professional. I make it sound you’re like me mate and I can’t quite meet you now but let’s have an orange juice tomorrow.

Ajah UK’s EP launch is on Friday 28th April at Rebellion, Manchester, as part of Sh!t Lesbian Disco organised by the band themselves. Tickets available here. Follow Ajah UK on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

[shadesofanupam]

Lights, Camera, Action ....part 1

It was long back in life when, like anybody with a decent nose and a pair of eyes, I wanted to be a 'Hero' in movies. I, like many, worked on my physical appearance and had no clue that I needed to know how to 'Act' to be a 'Hero'. And nobody told me that !  

This was the mid 80s. Calcutta. 

Those days, I was already playing a few songs on the guitar, mostly Bob Marley and Deep Purple, that made me feel like a 'celebrity' with a certain amount of female attention in school and our locality. Needless to say, I was living in an unreal world.  

There suddenly  came a time when somebody from our neighbourhood,  who worked as a Production Controller in Bangla film industry, asked us local boys to come for a shooting for a Bangla film at a Heritage Palace in Calcutta where veteran actor / dancer Ms. Jayashree T from Hindi and Malayalam film industry was getting ready for her shot. 

So we were given a few instruments and were placed on mattresses covered with white sheets; strategically to look like Junior artistes making up a crowd.

My friends were given a harmonium and tabla to enact as musicians.  In sometime, we also realised that the film was being directed by a popular Bengali actor and the shot was that of a 'Barati' being entertained by a nautch girl in a Zamindar's palace.

Ms. Jayashree T was playing the role of a nautch girl and was learning her steps from veteran dance director, Mr. Oscar of Vijay Oscar fame of the 70s.

A few years later, I managed to sign two feature films in Bangla, 'Uttor Nei' and 'Monoroma' with the help of a close friend.  By the time I gave my first shot for 'Uttar Nei', I realised that I was not the 'second hero' but actually the villain who loses his leg in an accident and then transforms into a good man !! And the ‘Hero’ wins the girl !!!!

My first day of shooting was a romantic scene where I was dating a lady under a Banyan tree. This was shot near the Ladies Golf Club in the Maidan area of Calcutta.  

A few days later, we all went to a very interesting location in South West Bengal called Garbeta for shooting.  It was here that I realised that the casting for the leading lady had changed. 

Anyways, I, along with the crew, travelled by a train while the newcomer who was being launched as the 'Hero' came in an Ambassador car from Calcutta. I knew him from before and I greeted him when his car arrived. For some reason, I noticed that he was not getting down from the car and some village kids had gathered out of curiosity. 

He later told me that I should learn to behave like a star or else the public would lose interest in me. 

So that night, some of us were put up in a two storeyed building owned by the richest Potato Trader of the region. Before sleeping, I had a drink with the Director and Trader, who later I got to know was part financing the project. Tired, I walked back from the palatial house of the Trader through large fields to the building where I was allocated a room.

It was on the 1st floor. But on reaching, I noticed the door was bolted from inside. I must have knocked for a good half an hour till I gave up. 

Suddenly, I recalled the 'Hero's' advice that I needed to behave like a celebrity or else I would lose my value !!! So, I rushed out with all the anger that I could gather and went to the Trader's house. They were still drinking. And lo, I threw the worst tantrum of my life that compelled the Director to walk up and find out what the scene was ! 

We walked back to the two storied building in complete silence. I thought that I had acted like a true celebrity while I'm sure the Director must have thought otherwise !! On reaching, we noticed that the door was still bolted from inside. After a few knocks, the he became angry and began kicking the door.

And what happened next, changed the course of things for me. The door slowly opened. The room was dark inside and we couldn't see much though there seemed to be some movement while the Production Controller of the unit walked out bare bodied and covered his privates with a torn towel that didn't leave anything much to imagination.

The Director barged inside the room while I stood out. He lit the bulb. In the dim low voltage yellow light, we saw a nakeed 18 year old girl trying to cover herself with whatever was around. Her clothes lay scattered on the floor. 

Flashback to a heritage studio in Calcutta. 

We all had gathered at the studio office of the Director to catch a chartered bus to the station to leave for Garbeta. An 18 year old girl was standing in a corner with an elderly lady who I got to know was her mother. The mother was talking to the Production Controller who was in his post 50s. 

"I'm leaving the pearl of my eye with you. I know you are a fatherly figure to her and she will be protected all time. After her father's death, we have no reserves nor any ways of earning. My only hope is my daughter. And her only hope is you. Please help her get small roles so that she can bring some money home for the kitchen to run.......Also if there is any job as a dish cleaner or a helper in your canteen, please let me know Sir......we don't have food to eat", whispered the mother to the Production Controller with teary eyes.

I did turn to see. The girl looked under confident, malnourished and troubled. 

The Production Controller was actually the canteen owner of one of the heritage studios who was off loading his lust in the room allocated to me. But surprisingly, from the next day, the girl couldn't be seen in the unit till soon people forgot the incident.

The film never got completed as the potato Trader, who was the part investor, was interested to date the leading lady of the film and the Director had promised a popular actress to be casted. When that didn't happen, the Trader left the project mid way !!

But now, who was the actual Producer ?  Well, we all had met the dhoti clad elderly gentleman in the studos in Calcutta. But when the film was getting shelved, all newcomers including me began searching for the Dhoti clad  Producer who had suddenly disappeared ! And my career in Bangla cinema was at stake !

It didn't take much time to find out that he was a lower division clerk with P&T department and had a track record of pretending to be a producer while wanting young female aspirants to warm his couch !

The film never released.

The second film by the same Director had a Mahurat. There were media and guests. 

I was yet to meet the leading lady. Suddenly, all heads turned. Reporters rushed as a cab drove inside the studio compound and a lady accompanied by a man got down from it. The man was covering her head with an umbrella. The lady wore 60s kind of huge goggles and walked with a some attitude of ignoring everybody around.

The Director rushed to greet her. Soon I was standing next to her for a photoshoot. This is when the Director introduced me to the lady. But in the melle, I missed her name and was a bit embarrassed to ask.

In the most melodramatic form, the Director announced the launch of his new find, 'Lady Boney M' !!!!! I suddenly lost my balance when I heard the name. But before I could react, the Director announced my name too that left me in utter shock !!!!

A few days later, my father, who was ignorant of the fact that I was trying to get into films, read an article covering the Mahurat in the news paper.

 "Kumar Anup......Kumar Anup' he shouted. And when I walked up to him with my head down, avoiding eye contact, he continued, " So you got a new name that is obnoxious and scandalous but I'm curious. Do you know how to act ?"

Probably that was the first time I realised that I didn't know how to act !!!! 

Later, I did a small supporting role in a Bengali TV series which had actor Ms. Moon Moon Sen in it. And that's where my journey of disillusion about cinema ended !

......to be continued 

Photo from the shooting schedule of my debut film as a Writer and Director, Mirza’s Friend Ghalib which we completed in 2018 and is available on Disney + Hotstar.