The Extra-Terrestrial

{Before I get raped by the ongoing Housing design semester, I want to properly sign off for a two-week hiatus (till my Design Jury on the 3rd, atleast)}




How often have you tuned into a Bollywood number and seen flashes of colour-coded dancers behind the gyrating filmstar? Well, extras may remain blurred behind the pallu, but these unsung heroes provide quite a lot of conversation material when it comes to discussing Bollywood Quirks. Here's quick critique through ten (self proclaimed) exceptional cases of the quintessential bollywood extra.





Theres no better way to create fusion dances than intersperse pseudo-ballets with violent fits of 'adaab', Add in a lot of green bell-bottoms and armpit stains to match the lead-actresses, and we've got a winning combo. Here's the perfect example of the bollywood extra as a set of cloned background fillers. Mubaraka Mubaraka from Dil Pardesi Ho Gaya, veritable box-office dud.





Heres the sequence where the extras do the dance (read bobbing around) while the leads wander around in slutty contemplation. Notice that  although each extra wears a horrendous outfit (sequinned bikini tops for blouses? Ekta Kapoor's better), their rhythmic bobbing and dulhan-ki-saheli dimwittedness succesfully draw attention away from the misgivings of the leads acting prowess-es. Saajan Saajan Saajan from Barssat, before Priyanka Chopra learned to act and Bipasha Basu lost weight.





Probably the most famous set of Bollywood Extras in Indian Cinematic history. Who can't help visualizing a dozen dupatta-shimmying punjabi females rise slowly out of mustard fields while you gaze out from a train between Ludhiana and Jalandhar? Even more so if you have to do the same when you're in the middle of Trafalgar square and have to make do with pigeons rather than the salwar-kameez brigade. A succesful case of extras-given-and-getting attention. Ghar Aaja Pardesi from Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, bollywood behemoth and yardstick for all nri-dramas to follow.





Here's the extra who has no other work than showing us how the dance steps are correctly executed, in case our gifted lead doesn't realize that there is more to dance than boob-and-butt thrusts, and her choreographer stops showing that fat people can dance too. Koi Aaye Toh Le Jaye from Ghatak, a movie largely notable for Mamta Kulkarni's surprising survival in Bollywood.





The bollywood extra that affirms to a social fact - that the average Indian male is horny and alcoholic, and would willingly lust after beautiful czech women who pop up in drinking binges riding a buffalo. A clever trick, as PETA remains unable to figure out which animal is opressed. Babuji Zara Dheere Chalo from Dum, more famous for this song (and Yana Gupta) than anything else, including Viveik Oberoi's lamentable acting skills.





Similar to the above, but slightly different in its portrayal of the lawless north Indian male. Also, testimony to the fact that most Indian men have two left feet and may occasionally need a gyrating female in order to behave like sex-starved buffoons. Main Aayi Hoon UP Bihar Lootne from Shool, which catapulted Shilpa Shetty to her standing as the most succesful waist-management executive in Indian movies.





The extra does not need to be a youngster who can dance - it can be a group of adam-teasing females as well! Here's the bollywood ode to aunties who think age has no place in having fun (or in synchronized dancing around sewing machines). Also, a lingering sense of Jane Fonda in the purely aerobic-studio feel to the choreography. Chikni Soorat from Hum Hai Rahi Pyaar Ke, a memorable movie with little to lament about, honestly.





Weddings honestly bring out the silliest in extra-terrestrial behaviour. Apart from what seems to be a transgender bullfrog taking the lead vocals (and visualization), there is a whole range of  witless shaadi-goers who seem to have been picked from a sprinkling of Complan, VICCO and other FMCG advertisements. Dhinak Dhinak Dha from Parineeta, a song that destroys the otherwise fine roster of songs from a finer movie.





Heres the set of extras that probably go on to specialize in opening ceremonies of mega sporting events the world over, having displayed prowess in dancing like they're overdosed on viagra in costumes of that overwhelming magnitude. Dola Re from Devdas, a fitting over-the-top tribute to an over-the-top magnum opus.





The extra who works with a director kind enough to give each one a personal screenshot gets away with proving that exaggeration is an art indeed. Apart form impossibly idiotic eye-popping faces, the video is also an excellent documentation of the grunge/everyday look that was once the rage of all of tinsel town and bollywood songs, replete with a cast of extras that can give 'Mile Sur Mera Tumhara' a run for its money when it comes to social inclusivity. Rangeela Re from Rangeela, which, in my opinion, is the one song that successfully characterizes the charged up bollywood youth.


Understandably, many more exist. Do leave them in comments.


Until next time, Au Revoir.

music/metro/urbanity

{My favourite movie scene ever - a clip from the movie 'Babel', directed by Alejandro Gonzales Inaritu, music by Gustavo Santaolalla (who won the oscar for this)}

iPod on. Genius option under use. 'Notes' being used to prepare rough timeline.

'Secret Garden' by Madonna

Having passed through security and floor polishers, I'm standing (alone) on a platform floating between the 10.45 pm darkness of the eternally-under-construction Aastha Kunj and the halogen-lit towers of Nehru Place. 

'Stepping Stones' by The Aditya Balani Group

I can make out the outline of the Lotus Temple in the skyline. Takes a hard bit of peering, but the curve is there. Silly smile on my face. A train appears out of nowhere, taking a bend in nothingness. I board and take a corner seat, two strangers sit at the far-end of the coach, fiddling on their mobiles. As the train passes by the Intercontinental Eros, the diwali lights of residential Delhi and random establishments blur past, and the song draws to a close.

'I Set my Face to the Hillside' by Tortoise 

I'm approaching Ring Road now, the Moolchand crossing underneath. Headlights and Tail-lights stream by at a four-level crossing. I can see the illuminated dome of the Humayun's Tomb in a distance and as the train curves down toward the underground, the remnant spotlights on Nehru Stadium and what I think are the lights of Rajpath and India Gate. I realize that my camera is not the only reason why I love this city.

'Cry me a River' by Julie London

'

The train is now underground, and the volume is raised. Empty stations, through opened doors. An empty train reflected in the window glass.

'The Flower Called Nowhere' by Stereolab

Changing trains at Central Secretariat. Never seen the station so empty. Couple of people around, all running to catch the last train. Another seat, but a coach with a dozen more people.

'Sparks' by Royksopp

More people stream in at Rajiv Chowk. An equal number stream out at Kashmere Gate. The train is empty once more.

'Lost in a Moment' by Shrift

More empty stations. Emptier coach. A metropolis of twenty million above. Alone, underneath.

'Crystal Illusions' by Sergio Mendes and Brasil'66

Walking out of Vishwavidyalaya Metro Station. Decide to sit and wait for a bus, knowing that it won't come. Just an excuse to enjoy the song. More traffic streams past. Sort of like long-exposure photography re-interpreted in terms of bossa nova. Finally decide to hail a Rickshaw. 

'Corcovado (Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars)' by Antonio Carlos Jobim, Stan Getz and Astrud Gilberto

Chilly November air. Adrenalin fuelled Rickshaw-wala. Streetlights. Home in sight.

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

The music paused. Restiveness awaits.

'I'll be Home for Dinner' by deviantArt-ist Kvikken.