Season 2 of ICL brings with it old players but new playlists. Here’s tuning into what’s making our boys swing off the pavilion

Cricket, cricket, cricket. There appears to be an overdose of it. Still, every time a team reaches a venue, there's that rush for autographs and pictures. No dampening of the spirit, no let-up in the excitement. So, when Chandigarh Lions and Dhaka Warriors hit the city for the ICL match at Tau Devi Lal stadium, Panchkula, we knew there was something interesting to dig out.

This time, we got all those boys sweating it out in the winter sun chatting about the gizmos they are hooked on to, the must-haves they just can't do without even when they are travelling. Given the fact that they miss out on ghar ka khana and yaar-dost, there has to be something, which gives them company. Here's meeting their tech companions.

What’s the score
What's on their I-pod

• Rock on
• Teri Deewani
• Titanic
• Rise up
• Rhythm divine
• Hooton sey chho lo tum
• Papu can't dance

A psychiatrist’s role in Bhandarkar's Fashion was a pleasant experience for homemaker Archna Chawla

It may have been a blink-and-miss kind of a role but hey, playing Priyanka's shrink in a flick like Fashion does not happen everyday. And when it does, it brings a few sleepless nights along with the usual excitement and pride. And this is exactly what Archna Chawla is going through these days. Joy - because hers were the shoulders Priyanka Chopra cried on when she was going through depression in Fashion, and sleepless nights because her five-year-old-son Hoonar is often posing her this question, 'After Fashion, what? Is Bollywood the destination for his mama?'

"A little bit of disappointment too. Because they did away with all my dialogues while editing and when I watched the film yesterday, I was kind of surprised to see only background music being played instead of the actual conversation Priyanka and I had on screen," Archna fills in.

Well, that's Bollywood! Things happen when you least expect it. Like her entry in the film. A full-time mother, Archna never dreamt of facing the camera until Madhur Bhandarkar approached her on the sets at Sukhna Lake. "My son is a Priyanka fan so I took them to the lake to have a look at her while the unit was shooting there. So, it was quite unexpected when Madhur came up to me to say that he had a role for me in the film. I declined at first because I had never acted before, but I was tempted at the same time, as I was curious to know how a film gets canned. So, I did it and it was not so tough, after all. I could deliver my dialogues well and a simple suit and a little make-up is all I could pass off for a psychiatrist," Archna tells us.

Now that the whole thing is over, only memories linger. And Archna cherishes each moment she spent with the unit. "They all are so down-to-earth people, no air at all. Priyanka gave me so much moral support to face the camera, I would never forget her." Didn't we say when it comes to Bollywood, one should expect the least expected?

As an artist, Sawan thinks himself to be a subject as good as any

Some call him Narcissus, some call him Husain. They either hate him for his garishness or simply adore him for his eccentricities. But ignore? They can hardly do that. For Sawan's presence in the campus hardly goes unnoticed. It's not easy being Sawan, to sport a new look everyday, find the right coloured nail paint to go with his attire, colour his hair accordingly, draw temporary tattoos or find the right shaped bindi and then ride on his BMX bike from Mohali to the Government College of Art-10.

A final year student of Sculpture, Sawan is known for his image, photography and self-portraits. "Call me just Sawan, for I do not use a surname," he introduces himself. So what is this obsession with self-image? "I like being myself, use my face and body as a canvas and paint it to my heart's content," he answers. How much time does he spend in front of the mirror? "I think about myself all the time. However, what I want to become is an impulsive decision that I make each morning."

People's reaction? No, it does not bother him. Though initially he had problem with his parents when he got a huge dragon and snake tattoo done on his neck and got his ears pierced-seven in the left and three in the right. "However, my parents could not take it when I got my nose pierced, so I discontinued," he says.

But is that all to this boy. Not really. This eccentric lad has a talent of photo manipulation, does painting and writes poetry — anything creative apart from his chosen area — sculpting. "I am not interested in making sculptures," he makes it clear. But using his camera and multi-media, Sawan has come up with a spectacular photography series which gives a fair idea of the talent hidden behind his painted face. "I am going to put them up for a show soon," he tells us.

What about his self-portraits, which one can we see on the display boards in the college campus? "I do paint myself because I love drawing bare body and there are not enough willing models to pause for me. So I paint myself, click myself as I am as good a subject as any," he says. His sound bytes let us ponder on the campus buzz — maybe a Husain in the making, or maybe the Narcissus re-incarnate!

parbina@lifestyle.com

It always lay in the passage, rather forlorn and ragged. Badshah, my mother's pointer, slept on it, curled into a warm circle in winter. In summer, his posture changed to expose his stomach and manhood to the whirring fan above. This particular sofa, with a lot of coir padding and ancient upholstery, had travelled with my grandmother from Jalandhar to Chandigarh, the day she relocated from the ancestral home. It was perfectly contoured to support a weak or tired back. Its arms were wider under the hands and its legs were carved into sturdy balls that ended on a slimmer note. Above all, it was deep enough to hide in.

By the time we returned to Chandigarh from Goa, the coir was spilling out from torn, flowered tapestry. It had a peculiar doggy smell. It was often sunned to get rid of fleas. Worse still, it was looked at with disdain because the stains could have been doggie ones or from the last incumbent. Few touched it.

Used to curling up with a book on a soft contoured settee, I eyed the ancient one with interest. My mother assured me it was too filthy and ragged to revive. When Miyan Bhai finished with the painting and white wash, I showed him my potential comfort, book-reading zone. Miyan was silent. Never at a loss for words, workers or a lucrative idea, he asked for an hour to contact various people. By dusk he had arranged for a friend to visit next morning.

The friend arrived on the dot and looked at the wounded, rejected piece with a surgeon's precision. I am sure he was very discouraged but put on a stoic front. I asked for softness, depth, cleanliness and good springs. Each request was greeted with eagerness as it swelled the costs. By the time the final estimate was made, the proposed bill was Rs 1500. My better half gasped. We could buy a newer, modern version for less. But, I countered, would it be as comfortable? The upholsterer read my thoughts and hung on every word I spoke. He assured the Sahib that such wood and carved legs were both impossible to find. The bill went up further till I dug out some dull, old curtain cloth. There was a hush. The man tried to convince me that the material had neither shine nor sheen and was too old fashioned to be considered. I stuck to my guns he stuck to the cost.

Adequately padded, as soft as a baby's bottom, the ancient one welcomes various people throughout the day. Early in the morning, Ossie reclines in its depths, going through the horrors of the sensex. Somehow the ancient one comforts and cajoles and reminds us of better times to come. Perhaps it is reminded of its own past. My mother, who rejected it for being too low, too deep and perhaps dirty, now adds extra cushions and goes through a series of Sudokus, all her misapprehensions laid to rest. With numerous contenders to compete with, I sneak into its welcoming arms in the afternoon. It is quiet and comfortable and adds richness to the books I read. I pat it and say, "Welcome back, my Ancient One!"

Behind the runway dazzle is a sinister dark world, where conspiracy is the code and evil the design. Maverick filmmaker Madhur Bhandarkar is back, and this time with the ramp-reality check Fashion, which explores the gloom quotient of glam arena.

With Mumbai fashion industry as the backdrop, the film is an emotional journey of a small-town girl Meghna Mathur (Priyanka Chopra) who wants to zip into the big league ruled by supermodel Shonali (Kangana Ranaut). Fighting for a foothold, Meghna struggles to find her way through the dream-weavers - model coordinators, ad agencies, photographers, event managers and designers. Meanwhile, she also romances a wannabe model Maanav (Arjan). Not before long the right 'moves' bag her a contract in Abhijit Sareen's (Arbaaz Khan) top agency Panache where she replaces Shonali. Crest-fallen, further humiliated by wardrobe malfunction, Shonali sinks into deeper psychological mess as Meghna's career takes off.

Success breeds confidence, which soon becomes attitude and then finally turns into arrogance. Our showstopper protagonist proves that she is no exception - she dumps her boyfriend for well-heeled boss and turns ungrateful to real friends. Thus begins her downward slide. Heart-broken and desolate, Meghna takes refuge in drugs. A rave party leads her to a one-night stand with a complete stranger. It's time to confront her inner-self. She decides to take a break and returns to her hometown, Chandigarh. And when the moment of self-realisation comes, Meghna starts feeling a kind of a bond with ailing Shonali.

Solid screenplay has always been the hallmark of Bhandarkar's brand of cinema. In Fashion too, we see the deft artist at work, carefully crafting his characters and sketching the details. The ace director effectively captures almost each and every nuance of the fashion circuit: Casting couch, label lifting, wardrobe malfunctions, cut-throat rivalry and petty politics. However, unlike his other films, Fashion ends on an optimistic note.

Priyanka Chopra gets the author-backed role and perfectly fits into the groove. The remarkable ease with which she showcases an array of emotions clearly reflects her growth as an actress. Kangana gets into the skin of her character well.

The two leading designers of the industry, Sameer Soni and Harsh Chhaya, are shown as gays. While the former is reserved and married to Janet (Mugdha Godse) for ‘Mom's sake’, the latter is more schematic with the characteristic gay lisp. Debutant Mugdha Godse shows she is no rabbit when it comes to acting. Newcomer Arjan Bajwa carries his role as an honest non-compromising model pretty well. Overall, a chic flick.

Sequels are meant to be bigger and better. But Golmaal Returns takes the retrogressive route - where things get sloppier and shoddier. What sours Rohit Shetty's comical broth is the lack of an all-important ingredient called the script, reducing the narrative to a spoof-saga.

Inspired from Aaj Ki Taaza Khabar ( 1973), Golmaal… revolves around Gopal (Ajay Devgan) who has an over suspicious wife Ekta (Kareena Kapoor), an avid K-serial fan and a dumb brother-in-law Lucky (Tusshar). Gopal plays a knight to rescue a damsel in distress Mira (Celina Jaitley). The duo ends up spending a night on a yacht. The hero returns next morning only to face a barrage of questions from his wife.

To save his skin, Gopal invents a character Anthony Gonsalves. However, Ekta decides to double check and Gopal finds his Man Friday in form of Laxman ( Shreyas). Enter ACP Madhav (Arshad Warsi), who suspects Gopal's involvement in a murder case, and the plot takes a chaotic turn. After few more twists and turns, the things are finally resolved in an overboard ‘suicidal’ climax.

Dismal screenplay destroys Golmaal. Comedy is not just about scripting bizarre sequences, spoofs and gags. Also, the director gets overambitious and overzealous to tickle the funny bone.

The only saving grace is the witty dialogues-Main Tulsi ya Parvati nahin jiska pati jal kar vaapis aa jayega, twisting of proverbs -Darji ka kutta na ghar ka na school ka and wacky performances by Tusshar and Shreyas.

The movie belongs to Tusshar who with his mute act again shows he's a scene stealer. Ajay Devgan and Kareena look okay, while Arshad needs some more screen space. Other ladies, Amrita Arora, Celina and Anjana, have little to do.

There is only one song Tha Karke in the film apart from the title track which is again a parody on a number of Bollywood hits.

DOSTANA: Karan Johar's films are known as much for their music as they are for their own cinematic quality. This expectation level can be a liability, considering that everyone wants it to be the very best.

Well, the music of this Abhishek Bachchan, Priyanka Chopra, John Abraham starrer is no less than that of Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna, Kaal, Kal Ho Na Ho, Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham or Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. Vishal-Shekhar know as the pulse of the young, have included songs of various genre to appeal them.

The film tackles a difficult topic of man-man relationship, but at least the music does not reduce that to a caricature. Its core strength lies in three soft songs, which have been included here and are bound to appeal to every romantic heart. Jaane kyun is already up high on popularity charts. Anvita Dutt Guptan's lyrics have been sung with feelings by composer Vishal Dadlani himself.

The next song, Desi girl, is also a chartbuster stuff. Shankar Mahadevan and Sunidhi Chauhan hit the right notes all along. Kumaar's lyrics are simple and yet piercing.

Maan da laadla is one song in which the reference to the gay relationships comes through. Saleem sings it more like Kailash Kher. Kumaar's lyrics take care that there is no titillation involved.

Shut up and bounce is ideal foil for the Miami beach bouncing by Abhishek, John and Shilpa Shetty. It is from the pen of Anvita Dutt Guptan and has been sung by Sunidhi Chauhan.

Khabar nahin (Vishal Dadlani, Shreya Ghoshal, Amanat Ali) has tremendous softness and silkiness about it. If you are impressed, you have to wait for what comes next, because the very best has been reserved for the last. Surprise of surprise, Kuch kum has been penned by Vishal, although even Javed Akhtar and Gulzar would have been proud of its lyrics. It has been sung equally fluently by Shaan.