KarmaCola for these in-between times

For even a glimpse of this most evil of Western devils, you had to rely on the charity of relatives abroad. Or you could sneak into the triangular rooms at Rhythm House and play scratched records till the glares of the minders bored a hole through your head. You had to wait with bated breath all week for Saturday Date, that one golden hour on Saturday nights when, between greetings to Shama, Shalini and Tommy in Malad and Uncle John and Auntie Mabel in Mahim, you could catch George Mc Rae and Boney M. And then, of course, there was television. The weekly half-hour Young World which may or may not have featured a budding musician. And of course, the rare studio appearances in black and white: badly edited, terrible sound, but what the hell? Usha Uthup singing Bombay Meri Hai, Cliff Richards doing his SummerHoliday over and over again on Doordarshan reruns. Today’s teenagers will never know the deprivation of our swadeshi days. Not with MTV, Channel V, Music Asia and even staid old Doordarshan feeding videshi culture into every home. Has India changed? You bet. But how?

Take a look. The next weekend, I was invited to witness another musical event. The invitation came from the enthusiastic and energetic Sweety Kapoor (Indian name, British accent). The event (“two nights of universal club culture”) was not at one but two places: the swanky split level Raspberry Rhinoceros in the suburbs with its dimly lit pool tables, and at the place with (as many say) the longest bar in Asia. Three Flights Up. The crowd was hip and international. Blonde ponytails, silver trousers, Kookai shirts and the ubiquitous Dolce & Gabbana handbag. But not just. There were also plenty of glittery bindis and henna tattoos around in keeping with the Madonna and No Doubt-inspired fad for the season. The music, from the backstreets of London, was representative of a new sound. There was Amar, the misleadingly named female singer with the smoky voice whose repertoire sounded like a cross between Asha Bhonsle and Suzanne Vega. And then there was a live, interactive set, a hypnotic, rising sound interspersed with references to Indian Airlines and put together by the drummer, Inna Most and a DJ known as State of Bengal. The message of the evening? “Embrace your own cultural atmosphere.”

Swadeshi or Videshi. Which is which. The fact, as our cultural keepers would do well to admit, is that neither has ever existed in isolation. In Mumbai that was once Bombay and India that was once Bharat, the only truth is and has always been Mixdeshi.