My fovorite movies: MS Dhoni

At 36, your emotions are not strong enough as they were when you were in your teens. Perhaps that is the reason I will never feel the same way about MS Dhoni as I felt about Sachin Tendulkar.

I have immense respect for Dhoni. I am one of those people who do not easily forget when someone does me a favor. MS Dhoni did that favor to me on April 2nd, 2011. He gave me one of my happiest days of my life. People say a lot of things about him, negative and positive. As is my nature, I neglect or respect their decision about negatives. But long since now, I have realized that I am better at picking out the positives of any person. Or may be I prefer to do that. I am happy with my choice.

To say that the teaser of this movie gave me goosebumps would be an understatement. But the real surprise was the trailer. It had some clips which one would consider to be controversial. It was evident that this movie will have the blessings of BCCI. This made me even more eager to watch it.

Sports movies are usually of two kinds - one which are of a single sportsperson and the other of a team. Either there is an immensely talented individual who is spotted by a coach/mentor/scout, gets an audience with the people who matter, and in the end proves himself/herself as a champion, with may be a sprinkle of love story thrown in. The other ones are of teams where a bunch of misfits brought together by a coach - his thought process is known only to him or God. The team goes through rough patches, in-fighting at first, people and at some times, coach, doubting them. They emerge through all the odds and start winning, and emerge champions.

This one was different.

That is why, it is very difficult for me to write about this movie and the man separately. They must be discussed together.

There are a lot of things in a sports-person's life that usually don't become part of their biography or movie. Most important of them is struggle. Most of the times, all the struggles are shown in one or may be two songs. The amount of struggle that Dhoni went through in his life as a cricketer may not be the greatest. But at some point in this movie, I began thinking that may be this movie is not about Dhoni the star, may be this is about Dhoni the struggler. We may never get to see the triumphs that he had, may be this movie will only show the failures that he endured. Which were overwhelmingly many. Sometimes due to sheer bad luck. And a person who can endure those failures, learn from each of them, and emerge as the phenomenon that he is now, is unbelievable.

When it comes to Dhoni, his batting is better known than his wicket-keeping. And when it comes to Dhoni's batting, first thing that comes to mind is the Helicopter. It is a shot that defines him - confidence, pinch of arrogance, innovation, and most importantly - fuck the orthodox. To give credit for something which defines you to someone else is a brave thing to do.

That is one of the best things that I liked about this movie. The tribute given to his parents. Almost all his coaches - right from his first to Gary Kirsten - are there. And most importantly, his friends. A very good friend of mine has his Whatsapp status, "My friends are my estate". For me, a man is defined by his friends. They stood by him and supported him right from his childhood to his days of struggle in the railways. It is a mark of a man who remembers his friends after his struggles are done.

There are some places where this movie becomes slow. But just as the man, whenever it struggles, it picks itself up. The climax gave me goosebumps, and tears. Like every Indian, I too have been waiting for 28 years to see my country lift the world cup of the sport which we love the most. I still remember that night - it did not, in Ravi Shastri's words, went down to the wire. But that was because of some great batting by Gautam Gambhir. But in the end, actually from somewhere near the middle, started an innings which, for me, will forever be the second greatest innings of all times in a one-day cricket match.

I always thought that MS Dhoni is a simple man. His cunning lies only inside the field. This biopic restored my faith. He truly is a simple person. Brilliance is at its best when it is simple. 

Khuda Gawaah

1993

The news of Amitabh Bachchan retiring from cinema was in the air. Every movie was like Sachin Tendulkar’s innings in 2013. A year ago I saw Hum. One of my all-time favorite movies ever. Then came Khuda Gawaah.

The movie was good, or so it seemed then. The only thing I remember was my uncle saying “Bachchanwa ne pachchaas hajaar ki shewani pehni hai us gaane mein..”. I watch the song, the sherwaani seemed worthy of pachchaas hajaar. Then I forget the movie.

The only thing I remember about that movie was Badshah Khan riding a horse in the climax. And Benazir chanting “Woh aayega..woh aayega..”.

21 years later..

I started watching Khuda Gawah on youtube. And to my surprise I watched the whole three hours and thirteen minutes of it. It was more nostalgia than anything else that kept me through those tormenting three hours. And of course, Amitabh Bachchan. But then came the climax.

In the words of Yoda, “One of the epic-est climax ever seen, I have”. The sight of Badshah Khan riding the horse brought back those years when Salman Khan - the manliest of all the Khans - was a lover boy. This is what a Khan is. This is what a Khan should be.

The songs were majestic. And I don’t know how Sridevi pulled a Benazir. Danny was, well, Danny. But Bachchan saab, this is why the world fell in love with you – angry man (young or old notwithstanding). Mallika Sherawat was right only once in her life when she said that Amitabh Bachchan running is the sexiest thing ever. Well, Amitabh Bachchan riding is the most majestic thing ever.

What a climax. Man, what a climax.

    

The end of my childhood

They say that after thirty, every birthday is a pain. You can feel that you are getting old. It’s no more fun now – celebrating birthdays. Well, I've had three birthdays since I turned thirty and I never felt the pain. They were as much fun as they were earlier. But not now. Because something happened.

Today I saw Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar walk out for the last time to bat.

I was happy at first, I felt fortunate enough to see him bat one last time. But then he played a brilliant cover drive off Shillingford for a four. And then it hit me. I will never be able to see that shot again in my life. Or the perfect straight drive, or the back-foot cover drive, or the upper cut, or the paddle sweep. This revelation came crashing down on me. Suddenly, my heart became heavier than lead.

That’s when I knew that now my childhood is officially over. This is the beauty of Sachin Tendulkar. If our lives were a facebook page, he was the timeline. Every significant moment of my life is remembered by me with respect to a Sachin moment somewhere around that. I made my first school switch when he hit his first century. 1998 was one of the worst years of my life but it was bearable because it was his best. I left my home for the first time to study just before his historic tour of Pakistan. I don’t remember the exact date when I proposed my girlfriend but I remember it was a day after he hit a century.

This is the true impact of Sachin Tendulkar. Especially on people of my age. We all have our Sachin stories. I remember the first time I saw him bat. What’s more incredible is, I also remember what I was wearing that time, what my dad was wearing. I remember that it was my English Grammar exam next day and how I pleaded with my mother to go and watch the batsman who made my dad shout like a kid.

He was a role model too (major understatement). Bowlers in my school would try to imitate McGrath and Donald. After bowling a bouncer they would come up to us and sledge, use curses, spit in front of us. We imitated Sachin. Look in the distance, practice the shot and re-adjust the crotch. All this time without noticing the bowler. Now I see young batsmen with tattoos imitating Virat Kohli.

The speech after the match was simple and yet brilliant. It was good to see that all the politicians, officials and senior players didn’t try to meddle too much and gave him his space to speak to his fans. I had almost forgotten the terrible knot in the stomach that I experienced on seeing Sachin walk back to the pavilion after getting out. All was lost when he got out; if I were alone, I would switch the TV off. It all came back today, watching him walk back to the pavilion. By the time he had finished his speech, the knot had tightened and there was also a lump in my throat.  Strangely, it felt nice to have that sinking feeling again - for one last time.

A week from now I will be thirty-three. But I know this time it will be different. The joy will be muted, because the child in me has retired. Thank you Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. For keeping that child alive for twenty-four years.

Mesmerizing Mukteshwar & Nainital

The options were Chitkul/Kalpa and Mukteshwar/Nainital. As always, the destination was finalized at the eleventh hour. Mukteshwar/Nainital it shall be.

I went home early from office from where Sunil picked me up. Topped up the car with CNG and petrol. Then we picked up Amit from his place. At 12:30 AM, we started the journey.

Day 1

Delhi – Ghaziabad – Moradabad – Rampur – Milak – Bilaspur – Rudrapur – Kathgodam – Bhimtal – Bhowali – Ramgarh - Mukteshwar

News has just broken about Eid ka chaand being spotted, so there was a huge rush on the road with people trying to reach homes and hometowns. We got caught in numerous traffic jams on the highway till Moradabad.

From then on it was a pleasant drive. We followed NH24 till Milak (8km after Rampur) avoiding the Rampur – Bilaspur stretch which has craters the size of Sunny Leone’s ass. The 33 km drive from Milak to Bilaspur is super picturesque – sprawling lush green farms and a narrow but superb road. Just before entering Uttarakhand, it started raining, which continued till Mukteshwar. I took the wheel from Sunil just after Milak – he drives beautifully till there is CNG left in the tank. After that, it’s a little bit scarier than The Evil Dead. Once I let him drive in the hills from Manali. I don’t give second chances.

A couple of kilometers from Kathgodam, you have to turn right for Bhimtal and Mukteshwar. Monsoon was in full flow. There were the ghosts of recent floods in UK in our minds. It was raining continuously. The forecast was for 3 days of heavy rains. I was starting to get scared shitless. Then came the scenery.

We forgot everything about the monsoons, about the landslides, about the floods, about the fears in our hearts, and just soaked ourselves in the beauty. The reasons became clear. This is why I love the mountains more than the sea. Everything changes with a turn on the road. One minute you are in the middle of a super green forest and another minute you are staring at the clouds weaving through the hills and going down a valley.

We reached Mukteshwar at around noon. It’s not a 12 hour drive (Delhi to Mukteshwar is around 340km). The reasons for the delay were the initial traffic jams, the frequent breaks in the hills for gawking at the views and taking photos, and an ATM gobbled up Amit’s 4500 bucks at Bilaspur after deducting the balance of his account, due to power failure. We tried the PWD guest house here but as expected they denied giving us a room. It’s supposed to have the best view of the snow laden mountains. Then we tried the KMVN guest house. They showed us a room with no TV, reeking of moist smell and with a view of a freshly built non-plastered, non-painted wall. We declined. Then we found the Sunrise Inn. The view from the balcony was breathtaking. But that was the only good thing about that inn. Service was slower than India’s GDP rise, TV didn’t work, food was abysmal, and the owner was a brat. We had a spat with him in the night. He was ready to throw us out at midnight. All he wanted was his advance.

Chauli ki Jaali is a 300m trek from the road. It is a natural formation of rocks jutting out from the mountain with spectacular views of the valley below and ranges far away. Clouds made it impossible to view the distant ranges but we weren’t complaining. 

The sky cleared somewhat during sunset and we were blessed with some divine scenery. 

Day 2

Mukteshwar – Ramgarh – Bhowali - Nainital

After the bitter spat with the owner the night before, we left early from the hotel (read 9 AM). 33 km to Bhowali and a further 10 km from there took us to my favorite hill station – Nainital. 

There was a huge rush today. The permanent parking was huge but full. We parked a little distance away from there and went in search of a hotel. I have never stayed in Parshant hotel but the view of the lake was excellent. 

After freshening up, we went for stroll on The Mall, had delicious momos, and went towards the ropeway. It was booked full for the day so we booked next day’s ticket in advance. The hotel had parking facility so we took the car from the public parking and went back to the hotel.

We left the hotel again for boating. But halfway through the Mall it started raining, forcing us to buy umbrellas at double prices. Nevertheless, we hired the boat after the rain subsided. But then again, in the middle of the lake, it started raining again. Clouds and rain engulfing us, the umbrellas open, in the middle of the lake trying desperately for shore – surreal and scary. 

Day 3

Nainital – Kathgodam – Rudrapur – Bilaspur – Milak – Rampur – Moradabad – Ghaziabad - Delhi

Driving away from hills makes me sad and frustrated. Driving away from Nainital makes me sad, frustrated and angry. I drove the 35 km hilly area and gave the wheel to Sunil at Kathgodam. After that I was continuously bitching about his driving skills. It was his character and a mark of our friendship that he took it all in his stride (or may be he’s just thick-skinned). At Rampur, for reasons privy to Uttar Pradesh Police, we were forced to leave the highway and enter the city. After re-entering the highway, the opposite carriageway was closed till Garh Mukteshwar and all the traffic was plying on a single carriageway. This added to our frustration.

We reached Ghaziabad at 9.30 PM, dropped Amit, and then I was dropped at my place 15 minutes later. Half an hour later, I dropped dead in my bed.

1980s

I think it’s the age. Nostalgia is at its worst in the thirties. There are so many memories that it would take me another thirty years to share them. Childhood now is so much different from what it was in the eighties. I’ve read many mails, SMSs, Facebook posts, et cetera reminding me of my childhood. These mails/SMSs /Facebook posts occur as frequently as India – Sri Lanka ODIs. I’ve read them a thousand times. But for the heck of it, if another one comes now, I’ll probably read it again.

The thing is – I love eating food. And I hate exercises. So I eat a lot of food and I don’t exercise. This imbalance in my personal universe has resulted in a significant increase in my body weight, and volume. A doctor chipped in and painted a more gruesome picture than any Hussain. So it was inferenced and advised that I should eat less and exercise more. Which I hate, as aforementioned.

Often I used to think about my childhood – the things we did, the food we ate, the games we played, pastimes, TV shows, VCRs – but never before I felt nostalgic as I did when the doctor,  ah the doctor, advised about the exercise. How I loved playing cricket and football. This thought gave me an idea. Instead of walking/cycling five miles and staying on the same spot, I can play a sport! But I wanted to play a different sport. This is how I started lawn tennis.

That was two years ago.

There are kids in a sports complex. Either they are by themselves (teenagers) or they are with their parents. While playing or warming up or jogging, I notice them, and couldn’t help thinking about my childhood or teenage. And how lucky was I growing up in the eighties.

Here are the advantages:

The best one is – if you could lie, and lie convincingly, people would get awed. Brag about anything and you would become the undisputed leader of your bunch. In fifth grade, I lied about watching Kapil Dev’s 175* on TV. Nobody dared to dispute me. Now, a couple of my childhood friends with good memories have already fried me for those lies. In present times, kids find it difficult to lie. Their claims can be easily verified on Google or Wikipedia.

Another advantage was our ability to climb trees. Tiffin in school was usually eaten on a branch of tree. It would take me not more than five minutes to climb down my terrace, run across the yard, climb the tree, take out the tangled kite from a branch, climb down and run back up to the terrace. Surprisingly, I never broke any bones because of this. Climbing tree and cycles were responsible for more than half of the broken bones cases in our times. I was watching a kid trying to climb a tree in the sports club one day. To my horror, his mom started shouting like Momota didi and forced him away. Our parents never did that.

Football was the cheapest sport. Just an oversized orb (of soft material) was needed. Chappals marked the goal posts. There was never any grass on the field. You could wear shorts, trousers, or pajamas. Nowadays, the kids must have proper shoes (Rs. 5000), three to four footballs (Rs. 2000), any European club jersey (Rs. 6000) and then I watch their expression when they had to venture out of the grass into the mud and dirty their shoes (priceless). Or their parents just gift them a Playstation.

Gulel was like an AK-47 in our hands. We were expert marksmen. Kites which were tangled very high on the trees were our favorite targets. I once watched a kid at the playground trying out a branded plastic Gulel. He hit himself.

Cricket. Ah..cricket. Every single evening, every fucking single evening, was spent playing cricket. We played cricket to become like Kapil or Sachin. Now they play cricket to get rich.

Antakshari is no longer possible. Unless you confiscate cell phones of everyone who is playing, or watching.

There are countless more things – Hum Log, Ramayan, Mithun da was the pinnacle of dancing, Amitabh Bachchanwa didn’t had a beard, Ravi Shastri would not know what a tracer bullet was, there were only shorts and trousers – no Bermudas or three-fourths or seven-eigths, only two kinds of hairstyles – champu and Mithun da’s,  ten paise coins and one rupee notes.

Times change. May be our kids will tell their kids that our parents played football with legs, we played with a TV and a thumbs, now you people just put on your Google glasses (may be Apple will come up with iSpecs) and play with your eyes.

Another day comes to an end.  

The cast of Expendables

I have been very much inspired by this movie. The childhood dream of watching all the action heroes together coming to reality was too much for me. This is a perfect example of a shitty story saved by the megastar cast. It proves that old-timers like Arnold, Sly, Bruce, Dolph, Chuck, JCVD can still kick ass. The good news is that E2 has managed to gather the A-list of all-time action-movie stars; the bad news is that as a result, whether or not you liked the original Expendables, E2 will be far from the best action flick in which the dudes in the film have starred. (Okay, except maybe Dolph.) 

So I was thinking of the best, ass-kicking action movies these guys have individually worked in. and I came up with these.

Sylvester Stallone

Rocky: It’s the best underdog movie. Both on and behind the camera. I heard that it was written by a nobody named Sylvester Stallone and the makers were not keen on his insistence to do the lead role himself. They finally relented, and the world was treated to the story of a goofy simpleton and middling club fighter Rocky Balboa who stumbles into an unlikely chance to fight the heavyweight champion of the world, Apollo Creed. Rocky doesn’t win, but he goes the distance (15 rounds) with Creed after participating in the best training montage ever put on film.

Runners up: First Blood. When a small town dictatorial sheriff messes with a peace-loving but troubled war veteran, things start to get messy for the police. The action takes some time to come but it’s worth the wait.

Arnold Schwarzenneger

Predator: there are so many Arnie movies that picking up from them is a difficult task. My favorite is Predator. It triumphs over Judgment Day because of its cast. it does an awesome job characterizing the bunch of misfit soldiers. Then there is the arm-wresting match. The special effects were wonderful for those times and hold up today also.

Runners up: Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Period.

Bruce Willis

Die Hard: Termed as the greatest action movie ever made. Bruised, battered, shoeless, and bleeding out, John McClane goes all Thor lightening on terrorists at the Nakatomi Plaza. The movie has a tight script, a classic bad guy in Hans Gruber — for a long amount of time the best action-movie villain before being bettered by the Joker in Dark Knight — and just the right amount of humor.

Runners up: Pulp Fiction. In spite of all the blood and gore, it’s hard to call Pulp Fiction an action movie. It’s a cult classic nonetheless.

Jason Statham

Having starred in numerous action movies in a non-central role, Statham got his chance in The Transporter. One thing that this movie teaches us – never open another person’s mail. Unless you dig asian chicks.

Runners up: Crank. The sheer pace of this movie blows me off.

Jet Li

Lethal Weapon IV: I can’t remember the names of most of his movies. The first time I saw him was in this one. Most of the time he remains quite, in the background. But when he explodes, reminds us of a certain chap called Bruce Lee.

Runners up: Romeo Must Die.

Dolph Lundgren

Rocky IV: Definitely. The process of “acting” takes a backseat in his movies. That’s why I think Rocky IV was tailor-made for him. It was as if Rocky Balboa was fighting The Terminator. But the defeat in the climax reminds us that he’s human.

Runners up: The Expendables. Let’s be frank, he hasn’t worked in very many good movies.

Jean-Claude Van Damme

Bloodsport: Bloodsport is Van Damme at his finest. It’s full of badass training and fighting montages, and Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds plays JCVD’s sidekick. What else could you possibly want in a 80s action flick?

Runners up: Hard Target, is not director John Woo’s finest work, but there is a scene in which JCVD, sporting a mullet, a terrible creole accent, and Wilford Brimley as a sidekick, punches out a snake. That’s right — he punches. out. a. snake. 

Chuck Norris

Way of the Dragon: Not more than 15 minutes was his total screen time in this movie. But there was this all time greatest duel in the end. Probably the only time he lost. Unlike Rajnikant.

The roomies

Six years of my life I have lived as a bachelor. With bachelors. Countless number of times I have talked to people who have lived/are living this way. The inference of all those talks and shared experiences I am sharing below:

1. The place: Can be a room, an apartment or a whole house. Will contain desktops if you are a student or a television, refrigerator, inverter, and probably a washing machine if you are working.

2. The smell: Is same as Chandni bar on Sunday morning.

3. The balcony: If there is any, is strewn with hanging ropes with an assortment of underwears, baniyans, socks and towels.

4. There will always be a lazy guy who will always wake up late and wear the same stinky t-shirt or shirt to college/office.

5. There will be one person who will never wash the utensils. Similarly, there will be one person who will always wash all the utensils.

6. There will be one bachelor who will wear the same underwear for days. His mannerisms will be like Sachin Tendulkar on crease.

7. There will be one person who will always be on phone. If they are in college, he will be the dude of the room.

8. There are smokers. Occasional – they will occasionally smoke a cigarette during a daru party. Loaners – who will never buy one but ask for a kash or a whole cigarette from another. Light smokers – will smoke after lunch and dinner. And then there is the Guru, who believes that the fire at the end of the stick is God-sent and shall never be doused – eternal. He has at least twenty cigarettes lying all over the apartment at strategic locations so that he will have fast access to it in case of an emergency. He has at least three packs in his cupboard/almirah/suitcase in case of sudden apocalypse. He’s the one people go to in the middle of the night: “Abe sutta khatam ho gaya hai, ek de de bhai…”.

9. Pan wallah: He’s the Guru in a completely different sense. His demeanor exuberates calm, saint-like tranquility. Like a sadhu on maun vrat, he remains unperturbed from the ecosystem which surrounds him. People around him find peace near him. People not usually around him think he’s an introvert. Neither is true, it’s just that his mouth is always full of Pan Parag or Rajnigandha or Tulsi.

10. There will be one person who will always be late in matters related to rent payments, contribution for daru parties, etc.

11. Sharaabi: Irom Sharmila isn’t the only one who’s on a liquid diet. There are people who drink whiskey and/or vodka and/or rum and/or wine and/or beer and/or desi and/or any other kind of liquor more than the Volturi drink blood. They may also often be seen with a joint in the other hand. You can see them in the morning with their head in their hands complaining of headache because they didn’t get to drink the previous night.

12. The aam aadmi: He’s the one who will get up on time in the morning, get fresh, bathe, do a small prayer in front of a small photo of a deity (ranging from Lord Shiva to Sai baba) and go to college/office. When he returns, he’ll wash his clothes, watch some news, or Big Boss, or Pavitra Rishta, eat from the kitchen and go to sleep. He can often be sighted holding a glass of pepsi in a room daru party. These guys are usually good cooks and do a part time job as handyman if you want a pack of cigarettes or a quarter of Blender’s Pride from the market if he’s going their for his packet of milk.

13. Tharki: He can describe Lalita Pawar in such a way that she’ll look like Pamela Anderson the next time you see her. The pinnacle of human equality, every girl/woman is same for him.

14. Gadget freak: In school, a friend of mine used to be called a gadget freak because he owned a scientific calculator. Now it has been replaced by the latest Apple product (which frequently gets replaced by another Apple product). These guys have credit card bills in the multiple of ten thousands. They will not believe they are standing in front of the Taj Mahal if Google maps won’t confirm it.          

While I can say that I miss those days, my wife is the most avid reader of this blog, so I’ll say that I’m happier now.

The tub

I am a huge fan of bath tubs. Being a very very lazy person, I hate bathing. It’s very hard for me to get up from my comfortable bed, go to the bathroom, open the shower and gasp loudly as the first drops of water trickle down the spine, then rub your hands all over the body (I categorize this act as rigorous exercise), apply soap and wash again (exercise again). This is during summers. Don’t get me started on winters.

A bath tub skips all this exercise. There is something very pleasant about lying down in the tub neck deep and let the water and bath gel do its work. And of course, I love the foam.

I have been alive for thirty-one years now. And up until three years ago, I have never lived in a house with a bath tub. Three years ago, Dad renovated the house when I was getting married and built two completely new bathrooms, one with a bath tub. I was ecstatic. I have never bathed in that tub till now. But I plan to.

Once, I mentioned my love for these little cubicles of pleasure (bath tubs, not the cubicles of cyber cafe) with some friends. The ladies didn’t like it.

Lady friend: “Guys have a one track mind. All you want from a bath tub is having sex in it.”

Me: “Of course I want to have sex in it. Who doesn’t?”

Lady friend: “Next thing you’ll be telling us is you want a woman in that tub. Like she’s just a commodity for you. All you guys think of women as sex objects.”

Me: “I don’t think women as sex objects. They are human beings…who object to sex.”

Lady friend: Middle finger.

I guess this love for bath tubs started when I was very young. Back in the Doordarshan days, they showed an advertisement of Lux soap with Zeenat Amaan in a bath tub. My first reaction was to jump into that tub. I don’t remember if I wanted to jump into an empty one or the one with a wet Zeenat Amaan in it. I ordered Mom to buy only Lux soaps for me.

In summer vacations, we always went to my mamaji’s place in Kanpur. It’s a huge property with the house, gardens, and even small farms inside it. There was (and still is) a well with a haudiya (rectangular, cemented, open water tanks) close to the farms. All the children used to bath in it every other day because usage of soap was prohibited in it because the water went to the farms. So one day we bathed in the bathroom (which I hated) with soaps and the other day we went to the haudiya.

One day, I brought the soap there because I didn’t want to bath the next day in the bathroom. After everybody went away, I took out the soap and washed myself. I went to the house a happy man, but I forgot the soap there. Next day, there was an enquiry commission to determine who the culprit was. The abandoned Lux acted as evidence. Rest of the family, being Vinod Khanna’s fans, used Cinthols.