The Great Indian Civil Society and its Sudden Stupor

Wrote a post a few days back about the entire nonsense surrounding the Justice For Jessica jamboree and its after-effects. Have had a few conversations with people on the subject as well.

And interestingly, a day after receiving the following post from a friend, I’m feeling rather vindicated about everything I wrote.

This is what the friend wrote in my comments section:
"You think Prince was a beautiful face, or a bade-baap-ka-beta? But channels kept it up; and frankly it saved the day for a poor family. You think Rinky the baby elephant was a bade-baap-ki-beti? But the media did help.
Please don’t mix media hype with just one case (the point here is exclusivity; we all know how injustice prevails in Indian small and big towns, how there are grey areas of Sanjay Datt and Shibu Soren or Vikas Yadav; that is why there are celebrations when, for a long once in a while, justice of the heart wins in spite of Jethmalani, muscle power and money).
Popping champagne (I could feel your sarcasm) is just another way (in another society) to express happiness; as silly to us as Holi/diwali) ."

The point is well taken, but I am not in agreement. And when I said I felt vindicated, it had to do with the Noida killings. Here are 30-odd victims of a rather heinous crime. There are 30-odd sets of parents and their friends and relatives out on the streets protesting. All the channels beamed live visuals of the police physically assaulting these protestors.

Then why aren’t the candles out yet?

I’ll tell you why. It’s because these families are from illegal colonies, who have never really been able to lodge their protests or raise their voices in the mainstream. They have a serious – very serious – marriage of convenience with the police, and the contract includes the clause of silence.

There are no pretty women involved. There are no fashion designers involved. The people involved, to use a cliché, are the children of a lesser god. A god, a people, that don’t matter to the Great Indian Civil Society that is still trying to wake up after a successful year that was celebrated with a few solid pegs, a few pile-ups, many accidents and afogged-out New Year.

PS: I won’t reply indignantly if someone were to question my inactivity on the subject in the comments’ section.

love the latest 'ad jingle'

Been meaning to write about the Little Boxes song in the Alto ad for a while now, because Ajitha and I have been rather divided about our takes on it.

As far as Ajitha is concerned, it’s totally against the grain of the song to be used for a commercial. Moreso, because pitching the car as the only object that falls outside of the little boxes is gross misuse of the song.

As for me, I’m just happy that the song is being used in an ad, is being hummed by people (only the four lines used in the ad, but what the heck!), and has become popular in a sense. Back in the 1960s, it was – along with songs like Last Night I had the Strangest Dream, anthems…written in a simplistic, easy way to connect as far as possible during the days of protest.

You know, I have always been amazed with the ad-making process, and each time I see a bad ad I think: “All right, the company spoke to the Client Servicing people and chalked out a plan/brief, which was given to the Creative chaps, who thought long and hard and came up with a bad ad, which was approved by the same chain of people all the way back to the company/brand. The Media folks managed to sell it to a zillion media outlets (that, of course, has nothing to do with the quality of the ad) and so on and so forth.

Which means that a chain of about 10 people (to and from) like the ad that is so obviously bad.

And that’s where I am kicked about the use of Little Boxes. Heard it many, many years ago. Was an anthem of sorts for me. Even heard Pete Seeger sing it live to me back in Calcutta.

And for some of my five readers who might not know/remember the words (originally penned by Melvina Reynolds), here’s what I found on the Net – am not sure if all of it is correct. In fact, I’m sure some of the words are wrong – nothing significant though.

Little Boxes
Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes, little boxes, little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses all go to the university,
Where they’re all put in little boxes and they all come out the same.
And there's doctors and there's lawyers, and business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course and drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children and the children go to school.
And the children go to summer camp and then to the university,
Where they’re all put in little boxes and they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business and marry and raise a family,
In boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.