To the moon Page 3
Self-employed (Yoga Master)
Our story begins with being left-handed. And slightly off-centre, together.
From bonding over movies like Memento and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (I did say off-centre, didn’t I?), to breaking it down with some seriously bad dance instructors, to bringing down the house on some wild Friday nights, my journey with Malz has been one long winding road.
Distance (and marriage and some incredible kids) has had its toll on us, taking us in opposite directions sometimes but somewhere, somehow we’ve managed to find that one point of absolute synchronous ground. Malz, you have now arrived on the moon.
Time to reach further, girlfriend.
I’ve got your back!
I met Alex Kuruvilla and Cyrus Oshidar – two people who became my media mentors. Alex taught me that you need to constantly evolve in your thinking and not be afraid to hire people who could someday take your place. Cyrus in fact came up to me one day and said, ‘Hey, what do you do here exactly?’ to which I said, ‘I work on the website.’ He said, ‘Cool, do you want to write promos?’ And from there on I started writing MTV show promos and scripts (for which I wasn’t expecting to get paid extra but I did, so bonus!), including some scripts for Nikhil Chinapa. In fact, Nikhil came looking for me one day to ask who had written his last script because he liked it so much. Maybe I WAS a writer after all. NIKHIL CHINAPA
You’ve come a long way from writing my scripts at MTV, to re-writing the books on how to build a media house, MissMalini! You’re witty, hardworking and tenacious and the team you’ve built around you reflects your personality. It’s plain to see they love a good story just as much as you do and together, you’ve re-imagined the way entertainment is presented and consumed in India.
ALEX KURUVILLA
Managing Director at Conde Nast India
It was internet 1.0 and MTV India was an early player. Looking back, some of our moves seemed positively Neanderthal, even embarrassing. But a few moves were absolute genius, ahead of their time. For instance, the hiring of a cool, young lady who was very ‘with-it’ as the lead of the Sex and Relationships online channel. Her name? Malini. The moniker Miss came later when the lady became a brand.
Every time I come across the name MissMalini (which is once every few minutes these days!), it is with tremendous pride. She has built a brand and a business that is original, unique and very millennial (a great compliment in these times!).
So, MissMalini, you’ve barely got started. Just continue doing what you are doing, being who you are – spontaneous, glamorous, exuberant. But every once in a while, pause from your regular beat, and unleash the power of your reach to make a difference. About any issue that you feel strongly about. Domestic violence against women? Corruption? Girl child? Whatever. This country needs it. Bad.
CYRUS OSHIDAR
Managing Editor & Chief Creative Officer, 101India.com
Simplify. Cut out the extra and focus on what matters. And who matters. The rest is frills, bullshit and noise.
With my new-found confidence (about my writing prowess), I wrote an article for Mid-Day about the dot.com bubble bursting and it was my first full-page article in a newspaper ever, yay.
And probably the most crucial of them all: one of my colleagues at MTV India Online, the head graphics guy, Rajeev Chudasama (who went on to co-found the advertising agency Marching Ants), told me that his friend was holding auditions for a brand-new commercial radio station and maybe I should give it a shot. The next afternoon at lunch, that’s exactly what I did, not knowing just how much the next 45 minutes would change my life!
SECTION 2: MY RADIO DAYS
‘It’s not true I had nothing on. I had the radio on.’
—Marylin Monroe
‘In radio, you have two tools. Sound and silence.’
—Ira Glass
Blog #16: Theatre of the Mind
They say that video killed the radio star, but in my case, it was the opposite. Radio killed the wannabe video star in me and I spent nine incredible years on the radio. I fell in love with this medium almost immediately. My audition involved writing six content pieces, which served as ‘links’ between songs. These links consisted of music trivia or entertainment news (sound familiar?) and I remember being offered the job almost immediately (yay!). As it turned out, my first on-air shift would be from 9 p.m. till midnight. For a while, I even did the graveyard shift from midnight till 4 a.m. for practice. So, I would spend my days at MTV and my nights at WIN 94.6 – one of the two brand-new commercial English radio stations back in the day.
I lived nearby. My little world existed in the confines of Tardeo–Mahalaxmi–Worli. This was also because I loved a little dive bar called the Ghetto, nestled next to Mahalaxmi Temple. It has a pool table and graffiti on the walls, which you’re welcome to add to, and is the kind of bar where everybody knows your name. I made my first few friends there playing pool. I remember when I told my now business partner Mike that I wanted to take him to Ghetto, he jokingly replied, ‘Should I bring my gun?’ And I said, ‘It’s not that kind of Ghetto, Mike.’
And for the next decade, my world remained within Tardeo, Maxalaxmi and Worli. But, once I was on air, I could be literally anywhere.
I have always attributed my love of radio to the fact that it is, without a doubt, ‘the theatre of the mind’. You know, just like when you read a book and imagine the characters and the setting; they take shape in your mind just the way you want them to. What your imagination conjures will always be the Oscar-worthy screen adaptation of the book. Why do you think only a handful of movies have ever done justice to the books they are based on? Because the vivid imagery created by your very own theatre of the mind is so much more satisfying than anything anyone else can create for you.
And this is also the reason why, when you listen to a radio host, you imagine them to be the most beautiful version of themselves. I’ve always loved this aspect about the radio – it frees you in so many ways. For example, people can be heard joking, ‘Oh, he has a great face for radio,’ hinting at the lack of conventional attractiveness of the host in question, but the radio lets you be your perfect self – or at the very least, your truest self – without any outwardly trappings to distract people from your sparkling personality. Years later, I found this to be true of the internet as well. Here, again, your words and your identity were set free from your physical appearance. You should probably watch the documentary film Catfish to truly understand how impactful that is along with both its rewards and perils.
Here, your imagination is an enabler too; it helps you believe what you want to believe. I remember this legendary story about the radio host Howard Stern, the original ‘shock jock’, who would often get porn stars on the air, taking his title to the next level. In one radio bit, he tried to give a listener an orgasm over the radio by getting her to sit on her speaker while he hummed into the microphone! If you haven’t seen it, please watch the movie based on his life called Private Parts. It is epic.
So, yes, ‘the theatre of the mind’.
Oh, man, I just remembered this crazy thing that happened to me once. One evening when I was done for the day at MTV, Nikki said she’d pick me up on the way home (we finally lived together now, just like we always wanted). As I was standing on the street, expecting her to pull up in a cab, this car I didn’t recognize came to a halt in front of me. I took a few puzzled steps back (half-expecting some douche bag) until I saw Nikki and another colleague of hers sitting inside. They waved to me to jump in, but were behaving a little oddly and I couldn’t figure out why. I did once I sat inside and noticed that in the front seat, next to the driver, was seated a movie star. I can’t say his name for legal reasons, but let’s just say Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman. Yup, that guy. And if you’re thinking SRK, I’m going to say ‘na’ twice. Also, if your Bollywood knowledge extends this far, I’m going to sing you ‘Loveria Hua’ the next time we meet! #JustSaying
I was already speechless wi
th surprise, and then in a deep husky voice he said, ‘Could you pass me what’s in the back pocket [of the seat]?’ As I put my hand in to grab whatever it was wrapped in cloth, which slipped off as I pulled it out, I realized in utter shock that it was a gun. Not the garden-variety toy gun you get at Party Hunterz. Oh, no, it was the real deal, you-could-kill-somebody-with-that heavy-ass-gun. I passed it over to him and proceeded to sit very still as all of us in the back seat had a collective ‘this is how it ends’ moment. The good news is we didn’t end and he very kindly dropped us off to our Lala Lajpat Rai College lane, because we decided not to specify which building we lived in, just in case! Phew. How crazy is that? I have held in my hands a legit handgun and lived to blog about it. #Ghoda. No idea why, but in all Bollywood gangster movies a gun is usually referred to as a ghoda, which literally means a horse.
Now tell me, when you read that story did you picture it? What did the gun look like? What did HE sound like? How scared was I? Your imagination has already told you all these things and put into technicolour the images from my ‘you had to be there’ experience and you definitely weren’t there. All I did was put boring black ink on a page. How’s that for theatre of the mind? Let’s give it up for the human imagination, folks. *crowd goes wild*
Speaking of theatre, that’s also where I met my friend Nadir Khan, one of the few men I have met who are passionate about actual theatre. Till this day we host a radio show together, which you can hear across all the Shoppers Stops in the country. We talk about everything from U2 (his favourite) to the latest beauty techniques (my favourite) that might be all the rage on the scene today. Yup, and I think we’ve probably been doing this for almost a decade.
You may not know this about me, but when I began out my career, I was one of those uber-practical people who believed it was more important to have a steady income than throw caution to the wind just because you think you’ve found your passion. Passion doesn’t pay the bills, right? So, even though I was offered a more popular afternoon slot on the radio, I resisted at first, saying, ‘But how can I quit my day job for a part-time gig? That’s so irresponsible.’ It was the PD (programming director) at WIN 94.6, Aditya Patwardhan, who looked me straight in the eye and incredulously told me that I was making a HUGE mistake turning down the offer. He said I was clearly made for the radio and that if I didn’t take this chance now, I would regret it for the rest of my life.
To this day I remember that moment as one of the most crucial turning points in my career and my way of thinking. Suddenly I was going off the charted path, switching off Google maps, if you will, and navigating alone. Side note: The gravity of this analogy will only make sense to those directionally challenged like myself. I swear, it’s a thing. It’s just hard for some people!
Captain Pattu, you were right and IOU this one.
ADITYA PATWARDHAN
Former Programming Director at WIN 94.6
I remember interviewing Malini for a gig in radio over a decade ago on a rickety desk that served as a sit-out for the thinkers. She walked in thinking content, and walked out being delivery. My first impression of her? ‘This one’s gonna go places.’ And we now have a book. You asked me for advice going ahead, here it is: You don’t need any, just look to the moon. Up, up and away!
At this point, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention an incredible personality I had the fortune of getting to know while on the radio – Roshan Abbas. He needs no introduction considering he’s dabbled in everything from radio to event management, writing and directing. Among his varied talents, my favourite thing about Roshan has always been his incredible storytelling ability. In fact, he leads a session called ‘The Storytellers’, which is an attempt to take you back to the basics and capture the essence of sharing a true-life experience, in an intimate captivating way, almost campfire-style. The premise: tell a five-minute story, it must be a true story, something you’ve never told before and that moved you. Cool, right? (Can you think of one? I can hook you up for his next session.) The reason I bring this up is because I feel blogs have the same capacity for intimacy. Your readers are gripped by your very personal voice and feel as if they are being spoken to directly. Like a letter to a friend.
I will also never forget how, when I had just about decided to quit my day job, Roshan warned me that they were planning to drop my show without telling me and that I shouldn’t give up my gig at MTV yet. He needn’t have done that; we had just met and he knew the station head much better than he knew me. But he did what was right, because it was right. Luckily it all worked out and I managed to keep both jobs, and that’s where I learnt that as long as you’re having fun, two jobs are better than one.
ROSHAN ABBAS
Managing Director, Encompass
Everyone likes to be featured on MissMalini.com, and Malini has made that urge to know and to be known a trademark. Going forward MM needs to preserve her unique identity. She is no longer a singular voice but a channel of many voices. Keeping the freshest ones, making them relevant as part of the brand and planning brand extensions are critical. On a separate note, she should invest in cloning herself. I wonder where she gets the stamina to attend three events per night and keep the smile on! I would have written a business plan for her but then thought I need to make this short and snappy. Stay as you are, just be careful of the ones trying to be you. This copycat market filled with big media houses always looks to bring down fresh talent.
Blog #17: 3 Creepy Things
Unfortunately, no her life goes without dealing with at least three creepy things happening to them, which she won’t ever forget. My hope is that the lessons you learn from them, or the opportunity they offer you to raise a voice and stand up for all women, especially those who may be in a situation where they can’t, allays some portion of the creepiness of it all. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Here are mine thus far.
When I was seventeen years old, I went to watch a movie with my mom at a cinema in Delhi. I was wearing a mustard-coloured, giant floral print, loose-fitting salwar-kameez, with tied up greasy hair and had my nerdiest glasses on. (Because as most desi girls know, that’s how you went to the movies with your mom.) As we made our way through the crowd, this guy suddenly reached out and squeezed one of my breasts with his entire palm. He even lingered and I was stunned speechless having just recently relocated to the motherland. By the time I could call out to my mom, who was just a few steps in front of me, he disappeared into the crowd and I was embarrassed telling her what had happened. I hate that I was embarrassed. Anyway, we pushed past it and chose not to create a ‘scene’, as the offending party had already flown the coop. But looking back I wish I had said something. And if you’re reading this and if it ever happens to you, say something; say it for me too.
When Nikki and I lived in Worli (probably our fourth move), we had these grand hopes of finding our dream apartment with mood lighting and floor cushions. Instead, we ended up in a slightly creepy one-bedroom apartment (1bhk – 1 bedroom-hall-kitchen – as they call it here) with old, always dirty-looking, speckled floors and too much of the landlord’s useless paraphernalia everywhere, including way too many pictures of his dead wife. But then things took an even creepier turn. One day, we found out that the landlord had been sneaking into the apartment while we were at work to shower and just ‘hang out’. Apparently, the maid would just let him in! We had to get two guys we knew to pretend to be ‘bhai’-type thugs and scare him off because he refused to stop coming over and wanted to sleep in the hall, saying he had nowhere to go when he was visiting the city. He also refused to let us remove his dead wife’s pictures from inside all the cabinets. So, I covered the glass with pictures of my own to block the view. Now, when I tell you this next thing you’re going to sleep with the lights on tonight. He looked EXACTLY like the psycho old guy from Human Centipede. Yup. Never going to forget THAT image, are you?
The third and most bizarrely creepy thing happened to me while I was on the radio, and pro
bably because of it too. I developed a stalker. This was pre-Facebook, so I’m not talking Instagram-comment kind of stalker. This was the real deal. The kind of stalker who shows up at your window, at work, at midnight at the end of your shift. Here’s what happened. I would often put out random Yahoo! interview-esque questions on my show. Like, ‘If I gave you an elephant, where would you hide it?’ and people would call in with silly replies. One day I got an email on our fan-mail account which said, ‘Why did you call me an elephant?’ I found this odd but also hysterical. I don’t remember whether I replied or not, but the next day there was another slightly longer and more emotional email from the same address. This listener was slowly but surely unravelling via the internet and developing a relationship with me that didn’t exist. He would send long love notes followed by angry rants about how I was treating him so poorly.
The way he wrote made it seem like he was replying to someone. I even asked my colleagues if they had mailed him back. No one had. I stopped reading the emails after a while and forgot about it till one day at midnight there was a knock on the station door. Our studio doors were all glass and you could see through…I spotted someone pacing up and down the hallway. Since I did the last shift, it was just me and a studio engineer at work. Since I was in the booth, the engineer got up to answer the door and then closed it, thankfully leaving the visitor waiting outside. He came to and said, ‘There’s a guy outside who says he’s here to see you,’ and then he said his name. Alarm bells went off in my head. It was the same name the emails were coming from. Let’s just call this man Y. Total panic ensued and two very sweet colleagues of mine, Neetu and Rohit, rushed over to my rescue. By this time said stalker had already disappeared. Over the next six years, this guy would turn up at events I was at, e-mailed relentlessly and followed me to the next radio station I worked with. He would often leave cards, teddy bears and handwritten notes that I was too grossed out to even touch. The thing was, it was clear his imagination had taken him somewhere else. He wasn’t just being a sweet fan. He was hovering dangerously around total psycho-from-the-movies territory.