Rich boys' club

I've never been a part of any cult. Not when I was in college, not when I first moved abroad, not when I worked for a music firm. I'm passionate about several things, just not enough to evoke that spark of fanaticism. Which is why it invariably intrigues me when I see people around me indulging in those.

My foray into the world of glitzy Apple products has been shamefully late. I still own a blackberry from 1965. But I do have a oh-so-yesteryear hand-me-down iPad from the other half. And I've finally bought a Mac but I still swear by my PC, more for the familiarity factor than anything else.

I met someone on the flight yesterday, a doc at that, who was traveling across the coast to be a part of a Tesla convention. Tesla, for the uninitiated, is the all-electric, sleek car made in the Silicon Valley which retails for about a 100k. It made me crease my forehead in slight disbelief as I probed. He came clean. A convention of Tesla owners was arranged to share experiences/ joy/ pride and discuss the upcoming features. So you buy a 100k car and then fly 5 hours to share your experiences? Yep, he went, not paying heed to the undertone of disbelief in my voice. Then it hit me. He was already converted. Just like millions of passionate followers of events/products from the Burning Man to Star Trek and from Lost to iPhone, this man, a heart surgeon, was undeniably a part of a cult. For a fleeting moment, I imagined being there. He must have read my mind because he volunteered, "it's strictly for owners."

I diverted my attention to the in-flight shopping magazine and to my seven-year old car that's in dire need of service and clean-up.

Of stunning mag covers

Stumbled upon a magazine cover. Stared at the stunning photo for a second and I seem to have figured out the process behind it. Sridevi's image has been superimposed on what I suspect is Kate Moss's. Then every pixel from Sri's body that falls outside the boundaries of Kate's body has been erased. Before you roll your eyes, know that realism comes from keeping Sri's face intact... well, at least the facial boundary.

So essentially, someone's face, someone else's body, chic jacket, image photoshopped to the hilt, the word 'fabulous' thrown in somewhere and you've got yourself a magazine cover! Boys and girls, that's your tip of the day.

ODing on TMI

Everywhere I look, it's confessions and more confessions. The reason couldn't be simpler. The urge to share far exceeds the wisdom to withhold. My social media timeline is a testimony to that. Whatever. One person’s poor judgment is another person’s entertainment. 

With FB graph search being rolled out to a large community of users this week, the topic couldn't be more topical. How much of venting satisfaction are we willing to get for potential foot-in-mouth embarrassment in the coming years? Food for thought.

Are Indian men ready to jump?

My article on GQIndia.com

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to spend an evening with a few businessmen from China. While the topics of conversation ranged from Macau gambling anecdotes to Sharapova’s comeback and from the sinking Euro to the newest model of Lamborghini parked outside, the one topic that made every Chinese eye on the dinner table sparkle with unrestrained enthusiasm was Kobe Bryant, one of the greatest basketball players of all time.

Now I'm a diehard Lakers fan, but by the end of the evening, it was clear to me that basketball has penetrated the world’s most populated nation. And then I saw what I was not prepared to see: A picture of Kobe, in a traditional purple silk Chinese blouse with enormous print and thick gold borders on his sleeves instead of the yellow/purple jersey I’m so accustomed to, as a wallpaper on one of their phones. Now, I frequently picture Kobe ferociously dunking from halfway across the court in a shiny printed silk blouse and feel severely traumatized.

China’s love affair with basketball began long before most European countries had heard of it. Fast forward to the early 2000s and the NBA (National Basketball Association) had turned out to the most popular sports league in China. China is in fact the largest market for the NBA outside the US, courtesy Yao Ming, the first and only (and now retired) Chinese player to make it to the NBA. On the drive home, thanks to the myriad Indo-China comparisons our media, economists and politicians have conditioned me with over the years, I began to think about basketball in India. 

So where does India figure in this story of a nation embracing a new sport professionally? It’s on the verge of it, from all the stories I hear. And it has all the right reasons. Basketball is a fast-paced game that gets the pulse racing and adrenaline pumping; it doesn’t make you linger around for hours as in football or hockey just to witness a goal. And here’s a non-scientific but effective test: Every NBA game I’ve attended, I’ve heard the Indians in the crowd cheer just as loud if not louder than the rest and small as my sample size may be, it tells me that there’s nothing in our DNA that’d forbid us from becoming basketball fans.

To gain a little insight, I caught up with Karan Madhok, who is smack in the middle of all the basketball action in India. The signs of impending change are prominent and the developments are rather encouraging: the NBA increasing its presence and promotional activities in India, a Director of Basketball Operations from the NBA setting up base in Mumbai (bringing along with him coaching clinics and training camps), a multi-city recreational league as a result of the NBA-Mahindra alliance, and a 30-year IMG-Reliance partnership set up to create a surge in infrastructure development across the country. The blueprint has been laid out and the momentum is building up. We could just be a couple of years away from a professional basketball league in India, Madhok says. Now all we need is a player or two from India to make it to the NBA to stimulate our interest and all eyes are on the impossibly tall and talented Bhullar brothers and Satnam Singh.

Obstinate as we may be, we invariably end up making room for the new. Clothes, shoes, crushes, relationships, taste buds. We let go of our reins and watch as the old and the new learn to co-exist in harmony. We’ve already been privy to football fever sweeping over the under-35 demographic in India and its time for the age-old craze to scoot over a bit further.

How long before we see Kobe Bryant sporting an atrocious maharaja outfit at an exhibition game in India? If that doesn’t win Indian hearts and bring them over to the other side, I don’t know what will. 

The next big eerie thing

This appeared on GQIndia.com last week

Coachella, the mother of all music festivals, or so us patrons like to believe, will be remembered for a lot more than kickass music this year. What other festival is spread over two weekends with the exact same lineup of popular and upcoming musicians/bands because there’s just no ground big enough to accommodate about 120,000 die-hard fans? Electrifying acts aside, the biggest bolt from the blue was undoubtedly a hologram resurrecting late rappers Tupac Shakur and Nate Dogg last Sunday.


What’s being referred to as Tupac’s hologram (or his ghost, depending on which side of the coin you want to see), the technology is all set to revolutionize performances and concerts. It’s not a new concept in the least. It’s been around since the 19th century. You’ve seen it plenty in Star Wars. This application of the concept isn’t new either. The first hologram concert was the ‘World is mine’ by Hatsune Miku, who is a female persona, in Tokyo. The video is worth a watch (it’s on YouTube) just for her moves if nothing else. Trust Japan to manufacture a pop star out of nothing. And it wasn’t a one time concert to showcase the marriage of music and technology either. She regularly performs and goes on tours. But Tupac’s, conceptualized and orchestrated by Dr. Dre, was a first of sorts created for an actual person. And it awed as the late rappers performed along side a live Snoop Dogg. It was truly an incredible jaw-dropping-eyes-popping-out-heart-skipping-a-beat moment.

Digital Domain Media is the company behind the lifelike Tupac Shakur visual effect. Rumor has it that soon enough the company might arrange for Tupac, the 25-year old rapper who was shot to death in Vegas in 1996, to go on tour. Rumor also has it that The Jackson 5 has proposed a similar tour of Michael Jackson. While I’m namedropping, I heard about the Beatles too.

So how does it all work? An oversimplified explanation goes like this. An image is projected onto a mirror that reflects it down to a transparent film that is tightly stretched in a 45 degree angle and ends up looking like 3D. Though the projected image has been widely described as a "hologram," it is a 2-D image and not a hologram, which is 3-D. A single projection can cost up to $400k. It is also extremely difficult and time consuming to create but the results can be quite precise as already witnessed.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. A huge part of Japan’s proposal to host the 2022 FIFA World Cup is to broadcast entire games to stadiums all across the world in life-sized holograms. To get a taste of this, check out the promotional videos on the 2022 bid website.

As long as we’re speculating, the technology can do wonders for those with loaded wallets. For instance, bringing to life your favorite deceased grandma in her beach house. Of course, you’ll need a footage of her. Or a Jimi Hendrix fan making him perform at his wedding reception. Or dirty dancing with Patrick Swayze. Or having a Muhammad Ali for an opponent and even beating him. Or an adult movie star in your bedroom. The possibilities are limitless.

Pretty soon, the lines will be so blurred, they won’t call it a parallel universe anymore.

Inside the Grammys

This appeared on GQIndia.com today

It isn’t everyday in LA when couture, glitz, talent and celebs come together to celebrate music. Well actually, it is, but the 54th edition of the annual Grammy awards at Staples Center brought more of the usual suspects out to play than usual. The influence of music and eminence of the Grammys infused life in the air way before the awards began. Countless limos and Lamborghinis, media vans, reporters, photographers, security guards and cops enveloped the venue as the rich, the famous and the gifted posed at myriad pre-parties highlighted by glittering curtains, exquisite floral arrangements and flowing wine that sprawled across the hotel lobbies, clubs and restaurants around the venue. As I made by way through a couple of those parties, the names that relentlessly fell on my ears were Adele and Whitney. Oh, the Beach Boys, given that they were reuniting after eons. All the speculation involved Gaga’s entry and all the jokes were on Chris Brown.

The red carpet displayed the customary razzle-dazzle. Loads of elegance, skin, shimmer, smiles and quirks. It was a strange concoction of the old and the new, the geniuses and the admirers, the clean shaven and the tattooed ones with piercings, the gelled hair and the punk hair, men without makeup and men with excessive makeup but together they make it work. I spotted Jay Sean from a distance adjusting his tie for a while in the car window (it ain’t just the ladies who can’t resist a sneak peek each time they bypass a mirror). Rebecca Black and Shaggy were both there, chilling, walking, seemingly unaware of the trauma they’ve caused to the world. I caught Paris Hilton pop a big piece, cheese or white chocolate, in her mouth when no one was looking. Paris eats! Who knew? Bruno Mars finally looked all grown up just as much as Taylor Swift did.

Fashion was at its best as it should be given the occasion. There was enough blinding illumination from gold and silver at the scene to put the sun out of business. Sasha Gradiva toted machine guns on her right arm where as Nicki Minaj startled with a bizarre red hooded outfit and a bishop on her right arm. She definitely did a one up on the egg from last year that Gaga was thus making it the wackiest moment of the evening. Gaga was a no show on the red carpet which is just not done, but attended, her face all covered behind a black net. Jessie J wore molten metal and looked like a disco ball, Katy Perry matched her hair with her blue fluid dress whereas Fergie, the rebel that she is, showed up in a risqué red-hot see-through outfit. Julianne Hough looked charming and Rihanna, quite sultry. If there’s such a thing as the perfect shade of black to complement your skin, Ri Ri found it. Internet music sensations Sophia Grace and Rosie were all cutesy, posing in their princessy outfits when I spotted the only t-shirts of the night on Foo Fighter’s band members. As for the men, Eric Benet, Adam Levine and Kings of Leon band members looked impeccable but all eyes were on A-Trak, Skrillex and Diplo.

Once I got inside, there were several noteworthy performances. Bruce Springsteen kicked off the event with a very yellow guitar but my heart fluttered where Maroon 5 opened for the Beach Boys. Remember Kokomo? Paul McCartney, Chris Brown, Civil Wars, Adele, Taylor Swift, Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, Coldplay – they all rocked the stage with their acts but Jennifer Hudson stole the show with her tribute. It’s not an award show unless there’s some misses to go with the hits. Presenting Bruno Mars. I take back what I said about him earlier. He is still not grown up enough to be allowed to perform.

Speeches were short and sweet accompanied by a tear or two in certain cases. Nothing out of the world. Host LL Cool J kicked it off with a prayer for Whitney Houston and said there’s a death in the family. That was touching. Then there were the speeches that never happened… like Skrillex, even after winning 3 categories.

I almost forgot the awards. If you thought 2011 was the year of Adele, you were right. Her ‘21’ was album of the year with a total of 6 awards for the night. Other big winners of the night were Kanye West, Jay-Z, Foo Fighters, Chris Brown, Lady Antebellum and Bon Iver, who was oddly given the 'best newcomer' award.

Oh, and dubstep's most friendless man Skrillex won three - and gave a perplexing shout out to London satellite town Croydon, known for its underground dubstep scene. There was no sign of reciprocal appreciation for the man who stands accused of inventing 'bro-step'. Worse still, he was the victim of a 'trolling' manoeuvre by electro-house producer Deadmau5, who wore a t-shirt with Skrillex's phone number on it - cue Skrillex activating call forwarding on his number to, you've guessed it, Deadmau5's phone. Who says these two masters of commercial beats lack imagination?

In conclusion, the event was terrific - very raw and entertaining and there was tremendous positive energy and lovely vibes from all around. The finale was grand. All in all, an evening I won’t forget for a long time. As the host summed it up succinctly, the night was about music and healing. Now only if I hadn’t spilled my tinted drink on my unforgiving dress, it would have been a perfect night.

Despite khadi vests

It's been 63 years since India adopted its Constitution and fortunately, I’ve been a part of more than a couple dozen anniversaries. Through my growing years, in several different ways, I've celebrated this remarkable day with a lot of enthusiasm and fervor, with activities that every Indian is privy to… from flag hoisting to march past to painting my face and dressing up in colors of the flag to singing along with Lata on the television screens, a few customary tears invariably rolling down my cheeks. But I'm not sure I ever gave it enough thought and consideration. I'm not sure I ever attempted to fully comprehend what it means to live in a free India. I'm not sure I valued the brighter aspects of it and opposed the not-so-bright ones. Sure I sat through all those speeches from visionaries, dignitaries and political leaders but unfortunately nothing seems to have registered or made an impression. Was I just inattentive or inspiring speeches are a rare find?

It feels rather ironic that so many years later, when I'm no longer even celebrating it in the conventional ways, I'm taking the time to indulge in something I should have done long ago. I conduct analytics for a living and in the end, it all boils down to the arithmetic of what has worked and what hasn’t. If someone was to do the math on our country, what would the outcome look like? Have we successfully implemented everything that was outlined in the Constitution or has our bureaucracy failed us? I can almost hear a brusque reply from someone in a khadi vest or a dated safari suit saying "Madam, it is not as black and white as that. It is complicated." I bet it is. It better be. It is after all the largest democracy in the world. But read between the lines through any new policy failure and you’ll notice that if it ain’t the hierarchy, it’s the procedures. If they’ve streamlined procedures, then it’s the protocols that sting. If protocols have been mastered, then it’s the regulations. If somehow, miraculously, regulations are followed, then it’s the C word (corruption, silly). And by the time all of the above puzzles are solved, it’s either time to break for a festival or for winter session and soon time to re-elect. Where is the time to implement?

I heard Rahul Gandhi imply very categorically in a speech that it may not be entirely true that our government is by the people, of the people and for the people. He categorized politicians four ways; (1) those with power - money or muscle, (2) those who've got it running in their veins, (3) those with the right business cards in their pockets and last and quite unfortunately the least, (4) genuine and deserving, which amounts to less than 10% of those who are elected.

So let me get this straight; only about 10% represent people who need to be represented and the rest are by proxy or default. Brilliant, isn't it? It is indeed because despite that, we're one of the largest emerging economies of the world. Despite that, we’re the largest producers of brain power in the world. Despite that, global corporations cannot survive without their back offices in our nation. Despite that, a common man can become the president. Despite that, our technological initiatives are comparable with any nation out there, our movie industry can churn out more films than any others and we’ve pushed some 24 folks in the top 100 billionaires in the world.

Dare to dream, I know, but wouldn’t it be amazing if those who govern our nation would, for once do it a little different? Like a chef who adds a new spice to an age old recipe to make it even more delicious. Like a doctor who prescribes a more effective drug to speed the recovery. Like a DJ who adds a new beat to elevate spirits even more. We may not be perfect but we’re pretty good. And just a few little boosters here and there, can bring about such grand outcomes that we can only imagine. Just a few little boosters, which turn impediments into opportunities. Need I even mention which ones?

Jai Hind.