Rocket Singh sells integrity in times of greed

Today at lunch this friend of mine, quite a social animal actually, almost had me keel over from my chair in this trendy new place in Khan Market. She is the kind who makes it a point to be seen at all the right places, even if she has to Salahi her way (previously known as gatecrash before the White House banquet for our PM) into her idea of the crème de la crème of Delhi society. 

Which, to digress a bit, is usually a place into which Rohil Bal, the patron-saint of the fashionistas, saunters in as the midnight hour is about to strike, to shower his august blessings on the invitees: this supposedly catapults an event with a small e to a happening with the shutterbugs in attendance — and the Beautiful People decked up flashing gym-bods and brands. 

My friend was planning to go to the Golden Temple in Amritsar, along with some of her kitty party gang, on a turnaround visit for darshan. What was happening? This was the sixth group of women I had come across in the last few months who was headed to Amritsar. Hardly any of them — young, youngish and middle-aged — were sardarnis. It was the first time for most of them.

There was something about Harmandir Sahib that was pulling them towards it. Serenity, beauty, feeling clean, getting away from the rat race — these were the sentiments expressed by the few women I met on their return from their brief pilgrimage. I was particularly struck by the remark of a 30something Dilliwali. "There was such a glow on the faces of those who were doing kar seva … there was no ego on their faces, and here they were, probably well-to-do men and women, scrubbing the floors enthusiastically." 

Yesterday I went to see Rocket Singh-Salesman of the Year. Why I wondered had Shimit Amin and Jaideep Sahni made their protagonist (Harpreet Singh Bedi) a Sikh? Here was the Bollywood heartthrob Ranbir Kapoor with his lovable bangs and tresses tucked into his turban. This was a serious film, not slapstick-funny like Singh is King.
Suddenly, the words of the young woman who had been so impressed by the sense of service and community she witnessed in the Golden Temple echoed in my mind. Come to think of it there is a throwaway line in the film about Sikhs being honest — ironically uttered by the villainously corrupt boss. 

Unlike Ranbir's earlier avatars in Wake Up Sid and Ajab Prem ki Ghazab Kahani, this is not a coming-of-age story — one with romance at its core and a protagonist who believes in the virtues of doing nothing. Rather, it is a serious film which sends across subtle and not-so-subtle messages advocating honesty, integrity, hard work and more importantly, the need to do the Right Thing, no matter the cost. 

The images of Lord Ram (Arun Govil playing the purshottam maryada) from Ramanand Sagar's Ramayan keep popping up on the small screen in the modest Bedi home inhabited by Harpreet and his grandfather. Played by the eponymous villain Prem Chopra, he skillfully incarnates the traditional core values of the Sikhs. Naturally, images of Guru Nanak hover in the background, prodding the conscience of the protagonist whenever he's even tempted to stray away from the right path. 

The hero's trajectory is a 180 degree turn from the ‘Greed is Good’ credo of Wall Street. The last decade or so have seen desi Gordon Gekkos proliferate in an eager-to-shine India, where ends justify all the means. The young Bedi rejects the business-as-usual practices of bribery and deception and comes up trumps, proving that ethics and business can co-exist.

Perhaps the recession has been good for our cinema, forcing, as it has in a few instances, a re-think-and hopefully better cinema. This Rocket landed on the pages of The New York Times — to genuine praise, and not the usual condescending left-handed compliments to Bollywood.