The shutdown has weighed light on cricketers around the world—no 100-tonne expectations slowing their steps, no lugging kits around, no soul-wearying schedule of the IPL. Some teach their kids the rudiments of batsmanship; some give their dogs necessary catch practice. Dhoni, an outdoorsy man, has repaired to his Ranchi farmhouse, where we see him take a leisurely run with daughter Ziva, who is clearly giving her all in a sprint. The highlight: she trundles off the grassy lawn, protesting tiredness, as MS calls her back in vain. Our Cap’n Cool gets his comeuppance.
You’ll agree that as the economy totters, unemployment rises to 25 per cent and airwaves are full of the anguished cries of the hungry and the abandoned hurtling towards a new low, the least our privileged stars can do is provide chorus to a ditty that peddles that worn-thin homily: ‘this too shall pass’. Guzar Jayega is composed by Jatin Sharma, with Amitabh Bachchan, as pictured here, voicing the solemn narration. As many as 60 celebrities sang along, from Raveena to Sunny Leone, from Babul Supriyo to Yuvraj Singh and Leander Paes: “be strong…be safe…love….” We applaud in earnest.
Protracted exposure to loved ones has various effects on people, as we’re tirelessly reporting each week: a plunge into social work, frenetic workouts, narcissistic photoshoots, prized time with loved ones and now, the good old discord. Kim Kardashian, whose dress, drenched in honey and sparkling with rhinestones, we had so justifiably excoriated, is suffering a ‘rough patch’ in her relationship with husband-rapper Kanye West. Locked up in LA with their four children, they now live in opposite ends of the house. Casus belli? Domestic responsibilities, including taking care of the kids. Go figure. What about the full-time nannies?
It was 1956 when his classic Tutti Frutti landed like a hand grenade in the Top 40, exploding from radios and off turntables across the US. It was highlighted by a memorable call: ‘Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom’. A string of hits followed, providing the foundation of rock music: Lucille, Keep A Knockin, Long Tall Sally, Good Golly Miss Molly. That’s Little Richard, the self-proclaimed “architect of rock ‘n roll” whose piercing wail, pounding piano and towering pompadour irrevocably altered popular music while introducing black R&B to white America. He died aged 87 this month. Richard’s hyperkinetic piano playing, coupled with his howling vocals and hairdo, made him an implausible sensation—a gay, Black man celebrated across America during the buttoned-down Eisenhower era. He brought what was once called “race music” into the mainstream. He sold more than 30 million records worldwide, and his influence on other musicians was equally staggering. The Beatles’ Paul McCartney imitated Richard’s signature yelps; ex-bandmate John Lennon covered his Rip It Up and Ready Teddy on the 1975 Rock and Roll album. And Bruce Springsteen has still been performing Miss Molly live.