There was a time, not long ago, when the biggest FMCG, Hindustan Lever/Unilever did not think twice on selling the “fairness” cream in India, as it would help girls in marriage. Our matrimonials were a sign of the times – they still are – they all wanted a convented, smart, gori girl. Sometimes, when they advertised for a working girl, they did not forget to add ‘homely’. There was a growing criticism of promoting fairness as the only idea of beauty. The company was operating all over the world, and they were quick to admit their mistake. Later, with the spread of education, and girls entering job markets, ‘Fair & Lovely’ cream was renamed as ‘Glow & Lovely’ cream.
The narrative and the video changed to a smart, confident girl walking in an interview board with confidence in a western formal dress, who impresses all, not because of her fair looks, but her confident presentation. Recently some conversation was going on about the way women’s body is presented in South Indian films. Some important actor and film-makers admitted that perhaps they had gone overboard, and they needed to show some responsibility. Some of the women presented in this manner were A-listers, who were not subject to exploitation. Greed could be the only reason for their willingness to appear in such scenes.READ THE FULL ARTICLE
In a group you come across some person, who soon impresses others, not for his or her status or accomplishments, but for his simplicity and knowledge. This is true of online platforms like Songs Of Yore too, where virtually no one knew each other when the blog was born on 7 June 2010, and
Old Bollywood was our nursery for Urdu. Where else could you get Tamaam gawaahon ke bayanat and memberaan-e-jury ki sifaarish ke maddenazar? There were always fasadat, khayalat in our films. In between there were some exceptions like Khayalon mein kisi ke is tarah aaya nahin karte. But soon it was back to Ye meri khwahish ye khayalat kise pesh karun.
My last post was also on alankars; that was the jewellery women wear on different parts of their body. The language also needs alankars to beautify it. Without figures of speech a language would be quite bland. A British writer Nate White’s article, “Why do some British people not like Trump” went viral sometime back. It was not because of his xenophobic, bigoted, racist policies, nor his incoherent rantings, it was because he was crass in language, he didn’t show any wit, any wry humour, never said anything amusing or remotely funny – in short he was devoid of any figure of speech. They are integral to our everyday usage and we use many figures of speech without any conscious effort. In fact the two meanings of ‘alankar’ themselves constitute a figure of speech called ‘Yamak’ – that is, the same word is mentioned more than once in a text, each having a different meaning.
Where is the mukhada gone, where is antara gone? For most of the history of Hindi film songs they did not go anywhere, they remained rooted where they were supposed to be. The classic structure of our songs was a mukhada with a catchy tune and refrain. This was followed by interlude music and two or three antaras with different tunes from the mukhada. Each antara would end with a connector line which would neatly segue into the mukhada/refrain.
Our elections are now over after a most toxic campaign. When the two formations were not abusing each other they were competing in promising the electorate moon. Voters seem to have now become smart. They must have realised that most of the promises would not be, cannot be fulfilled. There is no free lunch; if someone offers something free, something else has to give way. But one of the two principal rivals came up with a nice tagline: “My guarantee also means a guarantee that the guarantee would be fulfilled.” That is a good one, something like “Raj Raj Raj & Company”. In Shree 420 the dreams of the people were fulfilled, in the real world the voters have to wait for the bounties promised to them.
When I started this blog I never imagined that it would go on for so long. And it is not just clocking year after year. Songs of Yore is perhaps the only place where you will find a comprehensive series on 
Men may not be from Mars nor women from Venus, but there is a fundamental difference in the way the two genders bond with each other. In semi-urban settings at a party, the two genders automatically segregate, each forming their own group. We generally ascribe it to patriarchy. But at a recent get-together for three days at a resort with colleagues, including women colleagues and their spouses, we were at a dinner hosted by a local friend. As the number of guests increased, there was a need for some to move into another room to decongest. We didn’t realise there was anything unusual when men moved into another room until, after some time, the ladies led by some feisty colleagues trooped into the room slamming the gender segregation. Patriarchy surely does not explain this.