Raincoat

In December 2004, my British friend Lisa came to Bombay to visit me. Lisa and I are friends for more than thirty years. She is a lesbian and I am very straight. That makes it an enviable platonic friendship. On that trip, Lisa had come with a girl older than her. Don’t know if they were mere friends or more, but it was none of my business.

Bombay is not a touristy place. Once the two British girls saw the Gateway of India, the Gothic architecture in South Bombay built by their own ancestors, and refused to visit the Elephanta Island, because of the Tsunami which had happened that week, not much remained to be seen. From the day of arrival, they had expressed interest in Bollywood. I had to disappoint them by saying there is no such place as Bollywood. Hollywood exists, but not Bollywood. The best thing that can be done is to watch a Bollywood movie.

Bollywood movies are fairy tales for adults. Protagonists must be good looking, the leading lady Miss Universe if possible. Villains must look and act nasty. Every fifteen minutes or so, the storyline freezes, and everyone starts dancing. The leads (called the hero and the heroine) take carefully choreographed bollywood steps, and behind them are hundreds of dancers creating the Indian corps de ballet. The dances are extremely colorful, rhythms invigorating, sets appealing and tunes catchy. The seven or eight songs in the film may have nothing to do with the plot, but they offer a welcome relief to those who wish to buy popcorns, visit restrooms or answer missed calls. In effect, every Bollywood film is a musical. I thought Lisa and her friend would enjoy that part much. Also I won’t need to translate anything when the songs are on.

I checked with my Indian friends. They recommended Dhoom, a blockbuster film of that year. It was a nonstop action thriller, with seven or eight songs. An ideal film for foreigners wishing to get a taste of Bollywood. Dhoom had the famous Dhoom machale number, which I was obliged to listen to every morning at my gym.

In 2004, we couldn’t yet book movie tickets on internet. I checked the Dhoom timings in the newspaper. Lisa, her friend and I took a taxi to a nearby multi-screen cinema. We waited patiently in the queue for tickets, anxiously looking at the watch. I like to watch the ads before the movies.

“Three tickets for Dhoom, please.” I said at the counter.

“Dhoom? That’s house-full.” The man, whose head was the only visible part, said. I thought he frowned to suggest people just can’t walk in ten minutes before Dhoom and expect to get tickets.

“Look, I have my friends from abroad here. They wish to see a Bollywood movie. If Dhoom is not possible… do you have tickets… for…. Hulchul?” That was another recommendation from friends. This one had Kareena Kapoor, and six songs.

“No tickets for Hulchul either.” The man said. By now the queue behind us was getting restless. Indians respect foreigners, but only up to a certain point. The ticket seller gave me the names of the remaining films.

“I have tickets for Raincoat. Raincoat has Aishwarya Rai.”

Raincoat was a good English title. Maybe the film has lots of English dialogue, I thought. And Aishwarya Rai was a Miss World. I briefly told Lisa what the options were, and bought tickets for Raincoat.

By the time we reached our seats, we had missed the ads and trailers. Suddenly Raincoat, the feature of the day, started. The film begins with Ajay Devgan, the lead actor, coming to Calcutta from a smaller town. He has lost his job. He meets the woman (Aishwarya Rai) he was engaged to many years ago. She is now married. For the first ten minutes, maybe twenty, the two protagonists are in a depressing-looking room, just talking to each other. Films connected to Bengal are generally depressing. This one had no music, no songs. The two protagonists were speaking in chaste Hindi. Of course, no subtitles.

In the darkness, I turned to Lisa and whispered, “I am so sorry. The title Raincoat was misleading. They are talking in pure Hindi. And no songs, no dances. It seems unlikely there will be any. Please tell me when you wish to leave, and we will leave. Sorry.”

I waited for five minutes. I had lost interest in the film. As soon as Lisa gave a signal, we would all leave. Lisa was still focused on the screen. I kept taking my eyes off the screen and looking at her for a sign.

“We can leave when you wish.” I said once again.

“No, no. It’s fine. I think we will guess the storyline. In any case, I can just keep watching her endlessly.”

Well, if Lisa is happy looking at Aishwarya for two hours, why should I hurry? Or worry? Gradually, I got over my guilt, and began to get involved in the movie.

At interval, three of us came out.

“Once again, so sorry for bringing you to this film. I want you to know this film is exactly what Bollywood films are not. If I wanted you to understand how Bollywood films are not made, I would have selected this film. It must be a torture for you to sit through the hour without understanding a word. I can give you….”

“On the contrary…” Lisa said. “We understood the whole story. The visual medium doesn’t need words. And these are good actors. We are enjoying the film, don’t worry.”

Wow, I thought. I had always admired Lisa’s intelligence. To appreciate a film without knowing a word in that language was remarkable.

“She is a prostitute.” Lisa began. “And he is a drug-dealer. Both are unhappy about their professions. That unhappiness has brought them together. They are discussing how both of them can escape with each other’s help….”

Lisa went on and on. Giving me minute details of the storyline. I didn’t interrupt her. My initial thought was to give the English girls the gist of the story, until interval. Since I had not seen the film before, I had no idea what would happen in the second half. But if I could tell Lisa the story till interval, that would make her life easier. When Lisa told me the story, I changed my mind.

The English girls had invented a story. Just by watching what was happening on the screen. They could continue in the same vein till the end of the film.

I said nothing. Of course, she was not a prostitute, neither was he a drug-dealer. Lisa’s was a western perspective on the images she had seen. Her entire storyline, though interesting, had absolutely nothing to do with the real storyline. But who was I to disrupt her creativity? Would the real story be as enjoyable for them as the fiction in their mind?

We re-entered the auditorium to watch the movie. On that day, Lisa and I watched the same movie with two different storylines.

Ravi

Lord Ram vs. Emperor Babur

On Saturday, 9 November 2019, India’s Supreme Court gave its final verdict on the Ayodhya dispute. Faithful Hindus considered a piece of land in Ayodhya to be the birthplace of Lord Ram. Unfortunately, Babri mosque (named after the Mughal emperor Babur, an invader from today’s Uzbekistan) stood precisely at that spot. Court cases between Hindus and Muslims claiming ownership have been going on for the past 70 years. In 1992, dozens of overenthusiastic Hindus took matters and hammers in their own hands, and demolished the Babri mosque.

On Saturday, the Supreme Court awarded the land to Hindus based on archeological evidence; for good measure confirmed the act of demolishing the mosque was criminal; and offered to Muslims five acres of prominent land somewhere in Ayodhya as a consolation prize. The case offers several interesting, even amusing, points.

Deity as a plaintiff

India is a religious country. No wonder the Indian law allows God to be a plaintiff (or defendant) in a court case. In the Ayodhya case, the child version of Lord Ram (Ram Lalla or infant Ram) was the plaintiff. The Supreme Court of India may be supreme, but surely it can’t be more supreme than God Himself. Lord Ram won the case. He showed the courage and endurance to be a party to the case. (Babur was merely represented by a Sunny Waqf Board). The infant Ram probably turned into an elderly Ram during the court process. After fighting successfully a protracted judicial battle, He will now get a lovely, magnificent temple.

History and mythology

I was once naively arguing with a faithful Hindu about the Ayodhya dispute. Babur is a historical figure, I said, while Lord Ram is a mythological figure.

“Not true”, that man said. “Lord Ram is as historical, as factual, as Emperor Babur. Babur was born more than 500 years ago (in 1483). Lord Ram was born in Ayodhya on 10 Jan 5114 BC, more than 7000 years ago. Just because Ram was born centuries before Babur, does He become a myth, a fiction, and Babur a fact? How do you know that Babur existed? That Jesus Christ existed? Because you trust the history books that talk about Babur or Jesus. Similarly, I trust Ramayana which is the authentic biography of Lord Ram.”

The reverse journey

How far can you go back in history? To understand the time machine that the Supreme Court used, I must mention certain dates.  

Babri Masjid was built 491 years ago, closer to Babur’s death. What was in that place before? This was the question the Supreme Court was asked to decide. To decide it scientifically, all relevant literature in the past 500 years, and before, was scrutinized to find references to the Babri Masjid or Ram temple. The literature included Baburnama, Babur’s memoirs (1589), Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas (1574) and Abul Fazl ibn Mubarak’s Ain-i-Akbari (1598).

The most important witness in the case was the Archeological Society of India (ASI). In 2003, its experts conducted an in-depth excavation resulting in 1360 discoveries. It was fortunate that a decade before that the mosque was demolished by Hindu mobs. Without that, such excavations would have been impossible.

You break it, you own it

The wittiest comment related to the verdict compared the case to a gift retail shop. In a gift shop while browsing, if you drop a gift and damage it; it becomes part of your bill. This is called the American Pottery Barn rule: You break it, you own it.

What would have been the Supreme Court’s verdict if Babri Masjid was not destroyed? Would it still gift the land to the Hindus, asking them to build a temple there by demolishing the mosque? Probably not. No civilized court would, by a written order, authorize destruction of a 500-year ancient mosque.

Is this, then, a route to replace more mosques with temples? Mobs first go and demolish a mosque. The Archeological Society of India recruits hundreds of experts, excavates, finds ancient evidence, and then the court gifts the place to Hindus. After all, before 700 AD, Islam itself didn’t exist. Thirteen centuries ago, every piece of land where a mosque stands today must have had something Hindu there before.

For the holy Hindus with hammers, I am afraid, this strategy will not work. On 18 September 1991, the Indian government issued an act freezing the status of all places of worship in India: a mosque remains a mosque, a church a church and a temple a temple. Irrespective of what was in their place in the past. Section 5 of the act made a single exception: The act would not apply to Ram Janmbhumi-Babri Masjid. This exception allowed the Supreme Court to convert a Masjid land into a temple.

The verdict

The five Supreme Court judges who delivered the unanimous verdict have made the full text of the verdict available in www, in a clever manner. The main text runs into 1045 pages, has no executive summary, and the index has no page numbers. Every conscientious analyst and commentator is expected to read the 1045 pages to digest the excellent verdict. Sorry, but I refuse to do so. I am glad Lord Ram won the case. His winning offers peace a better chance. His winning or losing makes absolutely no change in my life, or in the lives of most Indians. Who is economically affected by this verdict? Mainly, the lawyers on both sides who carried on the attack and the defence for decades. Perhaps, employees of the Archaeological society- for them nothing further to excavate in that place. Possibly, politicians who needed it for election manifesto. Everyone else is indifferent to the court cases going on since 1950.

Muslims are offered five acres of prominent land in Ayodhya as compensation. Almost double the size of the original landholding. Another gorgeous mosque, perhaps a replica of the Babri mosque, can be built there. Muslims anyway have Mecca and Medina. Surely, they can sacrifice a single mosque for Hindus. (One that was demolished anyway). I won’t be surprised if this was the logic the Supreme Court of India used in arriving at its unanimous decision.

Ravi

The Big Mac Affair

Employees who have a direct or indirect reporting relationship to each other are prohibited from dating or having a sexual relationship: McDonald’s employee policy

On 1 Nov 2019, McDonalds fired its President and Chief executive Steve Easterbrook, 52, for his consensual relationship with an employee. Easterbrook was competent, innovative, on his watch McDonald’s share price had more than doubled. His salary was nearly 16 million USD per annum. If he was romantically involved with a colleague, was that not his private business? If the relationship was consensual, how could an employer interfere with it? If two consenting adults fall in love, is it not strange that in a country like America, companies call it an offence and sack the offending employee? McDonald’s is not an exception. More than 75% companies now ban office romances, particularly if one of the two dating employees is a boss of another – either directly or in the chain of command.

Office romances

In the multinational company where I worked, dating and relationships were a norm. In Russia and Poland, where I worked for more than a decade, most employees were young, in their twenties. Because following the collapse of communism, the reformed countries were young themselves. Russia had a lovely kissing culture that prompted men and women to start their working day by kissing one another. Russian custom requires a man to kiss a woman three times, and that custom was followed more rigorously than any company policies. This was a tobacco company. We spent days in the offices and nights at the clubs. The company looked like a club for the young people, and cigarettes were only an excuse that allowed those young people to meet one another. I can give a long list, but won’t, of the relationships – some of them converted into marriages. Certainly this company had no anti-dating policy, times were different.

The awkward relationships

Doesn’t mean all relationships were equal or innocent.

A British boss, head of a country, had started dating his secretary. He was married and she was divorced. In a couple of months, he promoted her and doubled her salary. In absence of a policy, the only reaction from the Board was raising of eyebrows.

A German director didn’t hide his relationship with his secretary either. This low-intelligence woman became a de facto director. Access to the German director was possible only through her. The subordinates, some of them fairly senior executives themselves, required to discuss critical matters with this moronic woman, seek her consent for certain actions. This was visible and tolerated, god only knows why.

A template case not only in this company, but several others, was that of a married boss starting an affair with a younger subordinate. The unmarried girl enjoyed the perquisites of the relationship in form of promotions, paychecks, gifts at the same time expecting her boss to divorce his wife so that the two can start a new family. It never happened. The girl remained unmarried and left the company or the boss so late in life; it became difficult for her to find a replacement.

Such relationships mixing business with pleasure corrupt the office atmosphere, and are demotivating for the colleagues.

#MeToo

We are now in the 21^st century, a century not at all innocent. Maybe the earlier century was not innocent either, but women silently suffered abuse and harassment. A company such as McDonald’s employs young girls 16 onwards. There are regular reports of McDonald’semployees complaining of sexual harassment on the job. Their accusations include groping, indecent exposure, propositions for sex and lewd comments by supervisors against workers.

It is not easy for women to complain against sexual advances or harassment when the complaints can result in further harassment, stopping their promotions, giving them a bad appraisal or even loss of a job.

Not only the accused men, but also the employer can be sued for harassment or improper relationships. Companies such as McDonald’s take the safe way out and ban them to minimize any liability that may arise. The boss may be individually liable for misconduct, but the company defends itself by saying the company policy tried to prevent such misconduct.

How consensual is consent?  

We remember well the case of Bill Clinton. Clinton was 50 and the young intern in the White House was 23. He expected the young girl to offer not only written services which her job required but oral services as well. How easy is it for a 23-year old girl to say no to the President of the United States?

McDonald’s fired President Easterbrook is 52 years old. The identity of the girl he was in relationship with is not revealed. Without knowing anything about her, I would still bet she is much younger than Easterbrook. This is the Clinton-Lewinsky template, where the powerful man lures a young girl into bed. The greater the age difference, the greater the suspicion of it being the abuse of power. Usually the interest is merely biological; it’s an offence to call it love or romance.

What is the solution?

Let us assume Steve Easterbrook was genuinely in love with the girl. What were his options? Since he was the President and the CEO of McDonald’s, every female employee in the company was subordinate to him. He had no defence of somebody working in another department.

Since Easterbrook was earning a salary of 16 million USD, it is safe to assume the girl’s package was much lower. Before taking her to bed, Easterbrook should have suggested she left McDonald’s. She needed to weigh what was more important for her: Easterbrook or McDonald’s. If she were to leave McDonald’s, the issue would be solved. If she were to leave Easterbrook, she was probably not worth his love.

He could have disclosed his love to the HR department and asked for their advice. The HR department reported to him. In all probability, they would suggest the same thing: either the girl should leave the company, or Easterbrook should leave the girl.

Easterbrook earlier had a relationship with one Denise Paleothodoros, a PR employee of Golin, advisor to McDonald’s. When Easterbrook became McDonald’s’ president, she informed her company of the relationship. The McDonald’s account was taken off her to avoid any conflict of interest. This is a decent way to conduct affairs.

The other solution to the problem could be marriage. If love was so serious so as to result in a marriage, McDonald’s could have perhaps forgiven Easterbrook. Marriage can’t be misconduct. And marriage usually puts an end to all romance in a relationship.

Ravi