Movies, music and Meena Kumari.

It's been a bit quiet over here in chocolate towers. Can you imagine that, towers made of chocolate - how fantastic would that be ? Anyway, I digress. I've been taking a break to grieve and process loss and spending time supporting my late friend's widower and her gorgeous son. By the time it gets to the evening - when I usually do my blogging and radio editing stuff - I am so shattered I've been going to bed early. I was over there the other day talking to J about his many visits to India and how much he loves it there. As I drove home I thought about the music and movies I grew up with that were my earliest introduction to my indian heritage. 

Pakeezah: Haunting vinyl memories

From an early age my parents would play indian music on the record player and often it was religious music that I recognised from going to the temple. The other music was from classic movies like Pakeezah which I wasn't allowed to watch because of the morose storyline - it is the tale of a courtesan who falls in love with a man who tries to save her from her miserable life as far as I can tell. Instead my father would tell me all about the beautiful star Meena Kumari who died of cancer during the making of the film so there are scenes where a body double posed as her so the film could be completed. The songs from this film are haunting, but also wonderful and I recall singing this because it was the only one I knew the words to. 

Kabhi Kabhi: The eternal love story.

The film star Shashi Kapoor died a while back. He was from an acting dynasty in India that continues to produce stunning looking actors. In our house he was known for being Felicity Kendall's brother in law and he was in a few Merchant and Ivory films too. When my sister was little she loved dancing on the sofa to Bollywood movies (not that we called them that back then of course) and couldn't say the names of actors so she called them all 'Shee Kapoor.' I first saw him in this classic love story about lovers meeting again years after they broke up when they are with new partners. It now has added poignancy as this song was played at the funeral of one of my Mum's friends.

Sholay: The buddy movie western. 

When I was at primary school we lived next door to an indian family whose older son was called Darminder - apparently because his mother loved the movie star of the same name. We used to walk to school with their children and one morning we knocked on the door to call for them and were told they weren't going in that day. We later found out he had died of a brain haemorrhage completely unexectedly. His movie star namesake was in this buddy movie with Amitabh Bachan - the most famous indian actor of all time pretty much - and it's a classic. It is a western with bollywood dance sequences, a cartoon bad guy and spectacular scenery. If this song doesn't make you smile, well you are made of stone ! 

Namak Halal: Eighties glamour personified. 

In 1981 my parents bought a VCR - good luck explaining what that is to your kids ! - and suddenly we didn't have to drive all the way to Poplar on Sunday afternoon to watch a movie and leave before the end so my parents could open the shop. No longer did my mum have me tugging on her sleeve to ask what was going on. I could read subtitles and follow the action myself. Movies were often 2-3 hours long so we could stop them and go back and watch later if we wanted to. I know other families who barely moved off the sofa when they got them too, but we paced ourselves and would often watch as a family. Namak Halaal was a film that was long awaited in our house as it starred Amitabh and Shashi again and the wonderful Om Prakash. Parveen Babi was the love interest and rocked some pretty stunning dresses in firmly '80s performances like this one.

Kabhi Khushi Khabi Gham: Yes, it's another Amitabh Bachan movie.  

I was walking through Borough Market once and spotted a film crew - someone told me they were filming a Bollywood movie. I never found out which one though. It has always been considered glamorous to film in locations other than India. When I was a child films featured scenes from the Swiss Alps as it was considered exotic to have snow in a movie. The ones I loved the most featured Leicester Square and befuddled passers by wondering why these people were dancing in the middle of London. This one goes a step beyond and is more travelogue than love song.

Generic sixties movies: Beehives and winged eyeliner a-go-go ! 

The best by far - in my opinion - is the truly retro style of the movies made in the sixties. The women were all winged eyeliner and beehives and the dresses were just gorgeous. I recall watching my Mum get ready for social events and she would style her beautiful long black hair and apply make up with precision using a steady hand to get the eyeliner just right. She would choose a pretty bindi colour from a carousel and using a tiny brush she would draw it on. She looked as elegant as any of the actresses - Saira Banu, Waheeda Rahman or Nargis. I love the music of movies from this era. Sometimes it's beatnik, often it's rock and roll and it's always got an indian twist.

No kissing please we're indian: 

While it wasn't the done thing to show too much flesh, movie stars could get away with it in the name of art. The directors even created the infamous 'wet sari' phenomenon which enabled them to show the female form without any nudity. I honestly had no idea it was so well thought out. The puritanism of the movies from my childhood (no kissing, no nudity) has relaxed in recent years. It reminds me of Cinema Paradiso when the priest would go to the cinema to check all inappropriate content has been edited out of films before they were shown to the public. Salvatore's reaction at seeing all the banned kisses on a film reel that he was left by his beloved friend - the projectionist - Fredo was joyous. When the film Sagar came out indian cinemas sold out every performance as youngsters flocked to watch the first on screen kiss of their lives. It was a big moment for kids raised in traditional homes that had banned such 'filth.' Can you imagine if we'd seen this ?

"Mummy I don't like you. Daddy is my favourite."

Drawing Daddy 

I'm so sorry I'm just no good at the fun stuff. I seem to be the one who's always saying, "be careful" and "don't climb on the sofa" or "well I did tell you not to stand on that didn't I ?" The only reason I can give you is that it is what my parents did and I can see now that it was because they were so afraid all the time. The difference is that you have me (not fun) and Daddy (fun) so your life is not solely about being surrounded by fear and discipline.

I know son. I realise that I'm not your favourite. It's been sunny all weekend - an oasis of warmth in a wet and miserable Summer (so far) - and I tried to tempt you off the sofa where you were watching Firehouse Dog for, I don't know, the 60th time ? You know, Firehouse Dog, the movie I recorded for you because I thought you'd enjoy it. I was wrong of course. You're obsessed with it. 

It is true I'm not the fun one. Daddy is the one who is good at the fun stuff. He will play with cars and run around the garden or the park and he takes you to football. I feel so guilty and I wish I was more fun, but it doesn't come naturally to me.

Daddy loves to take you to the park whereas I'm looking at my watch and finding excuses to move on and do something else the whole time. Actually I'm watching your scooter as I'm so convinced that some random stranger will come and steal it. I have no evidence on which to base this suspicion, but I do it anyway.

When you go to football I pack you off with healthy snacks and a water bottle for half time and when you get back you tell me you've had a Kitkat and biscuits in the boardroom. Of course there was the time that he forgot to take your shoes and a hat so Daddy had to go to the supermarket next to the ground and buy emergency plimsolls and a baseball cap. 

When we all go swimming Daddy splashes around with you in the kid's pool and you both pour water into boats, race ducks and throw a ball if the nice lifeguard is there. I swim up and down the lanes of the big pool as I don't like being splashed. Mind you the fact that you have a towel and a snack afterwards is my doing and there was that one time that Daddy left your costume behind in the changing room and this weekend he forgot your shower gel.

I've always taken you out and about to activities and you've met Peppa Pig, Thomas and the Fat Controller and had a tea party with Mickey and Minnie Mouse. It's just not my thing to get involved in toddler activities. While Daddy will run around with you at Totstars football I'm complaining about my dodgy knees and looking for the tea trolley. 

I'm not entirely useless though. This stuff doesn't matter to you, but here's what Mummy is good at:

• Before you go to bed I like to have some special time just you and me where we talk about your day. About what has been good and what wasn't so good. It's a space for you to share your feelings and for me to help you make sense of things that might be difficult to understand. 

• When you're asleep I come into your room and kiss you and move the toy cars on your pillow so that you don't roll onto them in the night and hurt yourself.

• If you say you like something I listen. It's important to me that I know you love Big Ben, windmills, Minis, fans, Spider-Man, buses and - at the moment - dogs.

• I don't buy things for myself, I only shop for you. On the rare occasions I do get something for myself I end up taking it back so I can get something for you instead. 

• Any conversation I have becomes about you. It's terribly boring for everyone else, but you know how you're obsessed with Firehouse Dog ? That's how I am about you. Even on days when we aren't getting along you still make me smile and I am proud of what a bright and funny boy you are. 

• When I get it wrong - which seems to be often - I say sorry. It is important that you feel heard and respected and I want you to grow up to be a man with integrity. As far as I'm concerned that means I have to lead by example. 

• I tell you I love you many times a day. I know you don't get why this is important, but you are kind enough to say it back and that makes my day. I hope that you will grow to realise how special it is when someone you care about tells you they love you. My parents never did, so I tell you every day. A lot. 

Lastly, I write about you and our adventures in this blog. I hope that when you're older you will read it with some pride. That it will remind you of things we did and times we shared that you can look back on and smile about.  

I know I'm not the fun one, but I did teach you the words to "I Fought the Law" by The Clash. That has to be worth something ? 

It may be 'historic,' but that doesn't mean it's in the past

[Trigger warning: this post talks about abuse]

I've been giving serious consideration about how to write this post for some time, then a few news items in the last few weeks have just made it clear that now is the time.

The first was an article about the founder of Bikram yoga - the not so humble and modest Bikram Choudary - and claims against him that he has abused and harassed women. I first heard these allegations a while back and had intended to write about it back then, but didn't and now there are more cases coming forward.

The other is the ongoing saga of 'historic abuse' of children in the seventies by various TV personalities, two of whom are in court this week. The term historic suggests that it is all in the past. As though because it's not still going on it may in some way be less serious.

Years ago I worked with a woman in Romania who was systematically removing children from institutions and finding them family homes. Many of these children were traumatised and she was passionate about tackling abuse and neglect. I challenged her assertion that only men abuse and she argued that so few women do that is it negligible and that women are held to a different standard when they are found to have committed abuse or neglect - especially of children. That is a thought that has come to mind during all these events. The power dynamic and the position of authority that has enabled these people to commit abuse and the willingness of others to overlook their actions.

Bikram is not the first yoga master (self-proclaimed) to be accused of inappropriate behaviour with students and teachers. He is the latest in a long line of men who spend a lot of time around body conscious women and men and who consider touching bodies to be a part of their job. At what point this touching becomes abuse is what I guess is being decided in court. In the past gurus and so called faith leaders have exerted the same influence and some have also been accused by once devoted followers of taking advantage of their acolytes.

Being from an indian family I grew up to understand that you do not answer back to your elders and that men are to be respected. If an older man then abuses you what does this mean for your self-respect and wellbeing ? Many who are seeking inner peace or fulfilment have insecurities and vulnerabilities that can be exploited by a 'charismatic' leader. Not that I ever thought the deluded Bikram was at all charismatic. He's a canny business man who has become very rich and considers himself beyond reproach. Abusers often do.

It has always struck me as quite poignant that all those who were abused by Jimmy Savile came forward after his death. At first I wondered why this was and if there was some unknown influence that had stopped them from saying anything. As more information emerges it turns out that people had tried to bring about a conviction in the past and it didn't happen. So for all those who experienced abuse it must have felt like there was no point as no one would believe them or nothing would happen. As if having to go through the shame wasn't bad enough, they also had to wait until he was dead before they were able to say anything and be believed. Then we have those who have been found guilty being given sentences that take into account their 'advancing years.' If we are to take this 'historic' terminology to the logical conclusion then surely if a person is proven to have abused in the past they should be sentenced as they would have been back then ? Either that or serve the same amount of time as their victims* have had to live with it.

As we discover more and more cases being reported of 'historic' abuse it can trigger flashbacks or memories for others who have lived with and possibly buried their own experience of abuse. For many their abuser is not famous and it may have taken years to cope with what happened or to conceal the pain and anger. So much carelessly detailed reporting can send a person back into the place that they've worked hard to remove themselves from. This is the only way in which the term historic really makes sense as it does indeed take a person back in time to a place that seems so far away that it could almost not feel real. Sadly it is.

*I hate using the term victims, but felt that as it is used in court it was appropriate in this context.