Whenever I have attended the Lakme Fashion Week in Mumbai, it has always struck me as an event that is a little out of my league, but something that always gets the eyeballs.

After all, isn’t fashion, at least some form of it, an increasingly essential part of urban living?

Sometimes a random occurrence is the best way to get things in perspective.

On my way to the venue this week, I overheard two college girls in the local train, planning a shopping expedition to Linking Road in Bandra, a Mumbai shopping street known for funky accessories and clothes sold on the footpath.

From their conversation, it seemed like they were on a tight budget (like most college students) but couldn’t stop talking about the kind of shoes they hoped to buy.

I looked at their excited faces and thought about our destinations. Both were about fashion but so far removed from each other.

Where I was going, fashion was about high-end clothes (some of which were even hard to like), air kisses, Louis Vuitton bags and haute couture.

Where they were going, fashion was about affordability, comfort and value for money.

In a country where most people favour the latter, it makes me wonder whether we need to re-examine why India has four or more fashion weeks each year.

Who are we catering to?

When you are a Bollywood actor in Mumbai, doors open automatically — or at least so you would think. But as Shabana Azmi, Aamir Ali and now Emraan Hashmi have discovered, there are some doors which remain shut.

Hashmi has complained to the Minorities Commission of Maharashtra that he and members of his family were not allowed to buy a flat in the posh locality of Bandra — because of his religion.

In his complaint, the actor said he was stopped from completing a purchase of a flat in Bandra’s Pali Hill because the society did not want to allow Muslims.

On the face of it, it seems ridiculous. What’s more, it is illegal.

Abraham Mathai, Vice-Chairman of the state minorities’ commission, told Reuters it would recommend legal action against the building secretary and chairperson if what Hashmi said did happen.

This is not the first time Bollywood is talking about discrimination. Someone as senior and well-respected as Shabana Azmi has spoken about it in the past. Television actor Aamir Ali has also said he found it hard to get a flat in Mumbai.

Unfortunately, this is the first time any one has done anything about this kind of discrimination and Mathai vouches for that.

“I have heard of such cases many times, but this is the first time any one has actually approached us.”

Muslims account for about 14 percent of India’s 1.1 billion people, making them the biggest minority group.

India is officially a secular nation but high-profile success stories of some Indian Muslims may mask their real status. Reinforcing stereotypes about the community, Muslims are targeted after most bomb attacks.

But was Hashmi denied a house because he was Muslim?

The city of Mumbai prides itself on its spirit. It prides itself on its secularism and cosmopolitanism and what could be a better example of those qualities than the thriving entertainment industry?

If public figures cannot escape discrimination, what hope do ordinary mortals have? Did you ever face this problem?

The last Hindi film I watched in a theatre was Nagesh Kukunoor’s “Tasveer”, an improbable tale about a man who has ‘photographic visions’ and can revisit the past. Then Bollywood took a break and I hoped it would serve the industry well.

After all, isn’t that what a break is supposed to do? Refresh and enliven, so that you can come back feeling fresher.

Unfortunately, Bollywood seems to have gone from bad to worse in that time — if you go by the first release since the film producers’ strike — Vivek Sharma’s “Kal Kissne Dekha”, starring debutante Jackky Bhagnani and Vaishali Desai. A jaded, disjointed and totally mediocre film about a boy who can see into the future.

Bhagnani plays Nihal Singh, who comes from Chandigarh to Mumbai for higher studies. It is another story that his college, hostel and surroundings look nothing like Mumbai. There he meets Misha (Desai), the arrogant, rich girl who hates him at first sight.

We are also introduced to Professor Varma, played by Rishi Kapoor in an ugly wig, and told that protagonist Nihal has the power to foretell the future.

Eventually, after misunderstandings, fights and a lot of meaningless song sequences, Nihal and Misha fall in love.

With that settled, director Sharma moves on to the action part of the film, introducing the “terrorist” element — a plot to plant bombs all over Mumbai.

I am not sure what this film was meant to be — a college romance, a thriller, an action film or the one genre that encompasses all three — Bollywood masala.

It ends up being nothing, thanks to the barely-there script and the director’s and producer’s obsession with showcasing Jackky Bhagnani’s talent (or non-talent).

It seems Jackky is in every possible frame, showing off his rippling muscles, dancing moves or facial expressions. Which is fine when your father is the producer of the film, but there is such a thing as overdoing it, isn’t there?

The young actor has a decent screen presence and definitely has the body, but needs to sharpen his acting and diction skills a great deal. Vaishali Desai is reduced to a stereotypical Hindi film heroine, wearing skimpy clothes, dancing in exotic locations and screaming for the hero to save her in the climax.

Riteish Deshmukh is wasted in a convoluted side track.

The locales and action sequences are good enough. But after two months of no movies, this offering makes you wish Bollywood would take another, much longer break. That is definitely not a good thing.

“Slumdog Millionaire” was proof enough of British filmmaker Danny Boyle’s love for India and Mumbai. But the filmmaker hasn’t had enough of the city or this country.

Boyle told reporters on Wednesday he would love to make more films in India and was in fact in talks with filmmakers Anurag Kashyap and Shekhar Kapur. He didn’t give any details but he did mention how much he loved working in Mumbai.

“Slumdog” producer Christian Colson was a little more forthcoming, saying a couple of projects were being discussed and Boyle was keen to direct them.

This is not the first time the British filmmaker has talked about making a film in India. In January, Boyle told a press conference in Mumbai he was keen to make a thriller in the city, because he felt its geography would lend itself very well to the subject.

I fear Boyle may not find making a film in Mumbai as easy this time around. During the making of “Slumdog Millionaire”, hardly anyone knew he was in the city let alone that he was making a film.

“Trainspotting” was a film very few people in India had seen and the record eight Oscar wins hadn’t happened.

Still, I am looking forward to seeing what Danny Boyle makes of Mumbai next. When he talks, you can see the passion he feels for this teeming, throbbing city and a celluloid translation of that is bound to be breathtaking — just as it was the first time.

Ever looked at those picture perfect fashion models walking on the runway and wondered how they do it? Well, actor Shah Rukh Khan has the answer.

“I was told the secret was to suck your cheeks in, pout your lips and look really angry, when you walk the ramp,” Khan told a wildly cheering audience after he walked the ramp for Manish Malhotra at Mumbai’s Lakme Fashion Week.

Looking dapper in a black-and-gold jacket and cheered on by celebrities Arjun Rampal, Preity Zinta, Kajol and Karan Johar, Khan was clearly the show-stopper on Monday night.

Khan’s tongue-in-cheek humour was also in full form, because he thanked Malhotra for being the first fashion designer ever “to design a sling” — referring to the matching gold-and-black sling he wore for the show.

Doctors have advised the 43-year-old actor to keep his arm in a sling for at least six weeks after he underwent shoulder surgery last month.

Of course, Khan wasn’t the only Bollywood attraction at the fashion week.

Earlier on Monday, Akshay Kumar walked the ramp for designer Tarun Tahiliani and asked wife Twinkle, seated in the front row, to unbutton the fly of his jeans.

Bollywood stars sure are getting bold on the ramp.

Dilshad Qureshi, Rubina’s aunt, is a happy woman. She got up at five this morning, finished her household chores and dressed up in her nicest clothes.

For this woman from a Mumbai slum, the Oscars were coming home.

I was there at Rubina’s (the youngest Latika in the film) cramped quarters, located in a slum by the Bandra train tracks, since six in the morning.

As I sat there, watching the Oscars on their 38-inch LCD TV, I wondered if it all seemed a little incongruous.

An eight-year-old girl, who doesn’t have running water in her house but has a LCD TV, who didn’t go to school some time back but got the chance to act in a film being made by an unknown foreigner, and who hasn’t travelled much of her country but got to go to the biggest movie event of the year.

And then, mentally I corrected myself. It wasn’t incongruous, it was the stuff dreams are made of; it was destiny.

Rubina and Azhar (the youngest Salim in the film) are actually living out the “Slumdog Millionaire” story — and making seemingly impossible dreams come true.

Let’s hope these kids can take some inspiration from the film they have worked in.

You had to be there to witness the jubilation in that room when Steven Spielberg announced “Slumdog Millionaire” as the best film.

Please join us in congratulating the entire team of “Slumdog Millionaire”, especially A. R. Rahman and Resul Pookutty.

Imagine falling off a running train and slithering down a rocky slope even as swirls of dust and grime envelop you. Most people would land up with a serious hospital bill or at least a broken bone or two. Jamal and Salim, two of the “three musketeers” in Danny Boyle’s “Slumdog Millionaire” just get up, shake off the dust and move on.

It might seem a little unbelievable or incredulous, but in the midst of watching “Slumdog Millionaire” (or ‘Slumdog Crorepati’ as the Hindi version is called), you shake off that nagging feeling and move on with Jamal and Salim, simply because you want to believe in their story. It’s not a believable story and yet the film makes you want to believe.

At least I wanted to.

Boyle’s film, which has wooed the West and is on its way to Oscar glory is this fast-paced, at times thrilling, at times chilling and at times poignant chronicle of one man’s journey.

Jamal Malik, who we first meet as an impish eight-year-old, steals your heart instantly and it is his story that sustains this film. Played in parts by Ayush Khedekar, Tanay Chedda and Dev Patel, Jamal’s journey takes you from the dirt and squalor of Mumbai’s slums to the Taj Mahal and then back again to the city of dreams.

Told in a series of flashbacks, we learn that Jamal, a slum dweller who has won 20 million rupees on the Indian version of the gameshow ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire’, has been arrested by the police for fraud.

As the police inspector grills Jamal on how a slum kid could know the answers to such tough questions, Jamal begins to narrate the story behind each question and the answers to them which tell the story of his own life.

Also playing pivotal roles in the film are Salim, Jamal’s elder brother, and Latika, (played in part by Rubina Ali, Tanvi Lonkar and Freida Pinto). To narrate any more of the story would be an injustice to anyone who hasn’t already watched it.

Like I said earlier, this film is not entirely believable. How can two poor kids who have hardly been to school and live on the roads speak such perfect English? It doesn’t fit in with the story and jars a bit. Also, how can a twelve-year-old kid get away with firing a revolver at someone?

This is also not an easy film to watch. I admit I cringed at the sight of the piles of garbage and the kids picking up rags. The portrayal of the beggar mafia, the flesh trade and the crime on the streets is something we hear about and see all the time. Yet, when you see it on celluloid, that reality hits you hard.

What will stay with you at the end of the film though is the overwhelming sense that if you believe, the stars will work in your favour. It is this factor which takes the film to a whole another level. I can’t help but root for this “Slumdog”.

If you are wondering why “Slumdog” and why not “Slumboy”, there’s a story behind how Danny Boyle’s Golden Globe-winning film got its unusual name.

Turns out screenwriter Simon Beaufoy was wandering around the slums of Mumbai researching the film, when he saw cats and dogs apparently asleep in the alleys.

But they weren’t asleep.

Beaufoy, speaking at a news conference in New Delhi, said he was intrigued to notice their eyes — moving, discerning, watching.

“I thought it was a fantastic metaphor - of somebody who’s apparently not worth anything, is actually looking, eyeing everything and knowing everything — just like the boy in the gameshow knows everything.”

“Slumdog Millionaire” is the rags-to-riches story of a boy from a Mumbai slum competing on the Indian version of the television gameshow “Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.

“I just made up the word really. There was absolutely no sense I wanted to insult anybody,” Beaufoy said. “I just liked the idea.”

The answer didn’t satisfy a journalist, who said it felt like Boyle’s film was referring to Indians as canines.

But co-director Loveleen Tandan came to the rescue, noting that the protagonist is referred to as ’slumdog’ in the film.

“It’s actually the English translation of the way we have spoken and our movies have said that over the years referring to a man from the streets.”

In “Slumdog Millionaire”, a police inspector (played by Irrfan Khan) calls protagonist Jamal a ’slumdog’.

Is “Slumdog Millionaire” a suitable title for the film?

Imagine taking a DJ to a funeral or U.S. President George W Bush taking Oliver Stone along to Ground Zero after the 9/11 attack. Would you call it inappropriate? I think the word doesn’t even begin to describe Maharashtra Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh’s actions on Sunday afternoon.

On a visit to the ravaged Taj Mahal hotel in Mumbai, he was accompanied by his son, actor Riteish Deshmukh, and filmmaker Ram Gopal Varma, both of them strolling around as if it were a normal walk in the park.

That a city already grappling with rage and grief had to see images of Varma walking around the Taj like he was location hunting for a new film, speaks volumes about the sheer apathy and callousness of the people in power.

Varma says he was never invited to the Taj, nor does he intend to make a film on the terror attacks, telling Reuters in a text message that he “just happened to be with Riteish, whom I know very well.”

TV channels are reporting as I write that Deshmukh has offered to resign, as has his deputy R R Patil. 

In my mind though, this callous attitude is not just limited to our politicians alone. We criticise them for being insensitive, but what about the thousands of people who came out to gawk at the burning Taj and click pictures of themselves in its backdrop?

“This has turned into some kind of a macabre tourist spot,” a colleague said to me.

And it wasn’t just the Taj. At Nariman House, while NSG commandos were struggling to get inside the besieged house, there were hordes of people out in the narrow street, just gawking at the grenades and gun fire.

As policemen tried to push the crowds back, telling them that a grenade might burst any moment, one teenager refused to move.

“So what if there is a bomb, it’s not going to walk over here and burst on my head is it,” he cheekily told the policeman.

That’s not all. There were people peering out of street corners, clicking pictures, hoisting their children on their shoulders so they could get a better view, and excitedly calling up friends on their cellphones saying “Guess what, I am at the Taj, and I can see it burning!”

As a nation, I understand that we are angry and outraged at the callous behaviour of our politicians but I am not sure many of us were any better.

A film that lasts under two hours is a rarity in Bollywood. And when the film pits an anonymous caller against Mumbai police, curiosity is aroused.

Neeraj Pandey’s film “A Wednesday” starts promisingly with staccato shots of a man placing a bag at a railway terminus and in the washroom of a police station.

He then proceeds to the roof of a building under construction, where he has set up a desk with a computer and television.

The man calls the police commissioner, played by Anupam Kher, and warns of bombs going off in the city if his demands are not met.

That sets the tone for the rest of the film, one with the potential of being a tight, edge-of-the-seat thriller.

However, the action doesn’t have an urgency and there is none of the biting-your-nails suspense you expect from a thriller.

Kher relies on two officers played by Jimmy Sheirgill and Aamir Bashir, young men of totally different temperaments, to help him in this mission.

To be honest, they don’t do much, except follow the unknown caller’s orders. Efforts to trace the caller and the bombs look quite amateurish with words like Interpol and Al Qaeda used carelessly without context.

The film doesn’t drag for too long though and the climax almost creeps up on the viewer. The last ten minutes of the film make up for many of its flaws, mainly because the director introduces a twist one doesn’t really expect.

Naseeruddin Shah as the anonymous caller (his name is never revealed) is excellent. He is restrained and yet angry and helpless, all at once. Anupam Kher also proves why he has lasted so long in the industry but I can’t help feeling his role could have been better etched.

Through the role of a television reporter, played by Deepal Shaw, the director also makes a comment on the media and its role during a crisis

“A Wednesday” is not the best of films, but it’s definitely worth a watch because it tries to be different.