Indian actress Sudha Chandran in Hong Kong

Sudha Chandran, shot by Leon Saperstein, back in 2005 in Hong Kong when she came down for a play. 

One of the most inspiring and lovely women I've ever met. 

Despite having encountered so many challenges in life (esp for those who know her story), she still had faith, temerity to face life head-on, with guts.

The Master's Apprentice: Hrithik Roshan: Bollywood Superstar in Hong Kong: BTS of film

Bollywood superstar Hrithik Roshan has been in Hong Kong to study under one of the world’s most sought after action choreographers. P.Ramakrishnan tracked them down during a break in training. All images by Oliver Tsang.



It’s been the city’s best-kept secret. Even among the 300,000 Indians living and working in Hong Kong, only about 20 knew that one of the subcontinent’s biggest film stars, Hrithik Roshan, has been living in Kowloon.

Maybe the secrecy has been a good thing. Back home in Mumbai, Roshan is never far from his four gun-totting security guards, as hoards of screaming fans shadow his very move.

But in Hong Kong, it’s been a different story. Making his way into the gym along Peking Road in Tsim Tsa Tsui last week, the 31-year-old barely raised an eyebrow.

The first thing that catches Roshan’s eye as he survey’s the cityscape is a poster for the Stephen Chow Sing-chi blockbuster Kung Fu Hustle. And behind the poster lies the reasons for his trip to our shores. He says he recently got a chance to see the film – but he didn’t just watch it, he studied it. “The action scenes were mind blowing,” he says.

Roshan is in town to work under the expert eye of Tony Ching Siu-tung, the action choreographer on the Oscar-nominated House of Flying Daggers and the box-office smash Hero. Ching is preparing Roshan for the sequel to last year’s Bollywood hit Koi Mil Gaya (I Found Someone). For four to six hours a day, Ching has been unveiling the mysteries of wushu to Roshan at the Pacific Club gymnasium.

“I didn’t make an announcement about coming because I’m here to learn and it’s been nice getting around, making a few friends,” says Roshan. “Everyone here is busy doing their own thing and so am I.”

Seated on a mat during a break in training with his translator/assistant by his side, Ching syas: “When the producer/director Rakesh Roshan [Hrithik’s father] first came to meet me last year with the proposal of working on an Indian film, I agreed immediately.

“I’ve seen a few Indian films and really enjoyed them. They like good action, as do we. So it’s a good mix. Even before we negotiated terms, I wanted to do it, just for the opportunity. I went to India on a location-hunting trip with the crew and I had a great time.”

Roshan Jnr is hesitant to state when shooting begins, but, as it’s his father’s film, he will be actively involved in all aspects of the production.

“I’ve been behind the scenes for many years, even though I always wanted to be an actor, I’ve been assisting my dad for a long time so I know what it takes,” he says. “This is my third trip to Hong Kong over the past 14 months and we were here working with the local film fraternity, and the Hong Kong Tourism Board, to promote Bollywood film production in Hong Kong.”

Unfortunately, though, this is one production which will not be shot here as the filmmakers have decided to split their time between India and Singapore. “The reasons were simple – we were giving more incentives to shoot there, “ says Roshan. “It wasn’t as economically viable to shoot here, and the location there suited the script so it’s been settled in Singapore. But we still wanted to work with talent like Tony, to give the film a Hong Kong flavour, so all the film’s action scenes will be choreographed by him and his crew.”

While Roshan’s foray into film could have been predicted – Rakesh Roshan was an actor in the 1970s/80s, and is one of the most successful producer/directors working today – the amount of success he’s enjoyed has surprised even the most seasoned of Bollywood watchers.

Hrithik Roshan's first film in a leading role was 2000’s Kaho Na Pyar Hai (Say There’s Love), which was the year’s box-office champion and won its star both the best newcomer and best actor honours at the Filmfare Awards – India’s equivalent of the Oscars. Koi Mil Gaya followed in 2003 and history repeated itself; the film was box-office gold and Roshan walked away with the critic’s choice award for best actor. “Now I can afford to wait for good films to come around,” he says. “My next meal doesn’t depend on how many films I have at hand. Choosing the right film for me is a luxury.”

Roshan’s regime is rigorous. He has started from scratch and is spending hours a day under the command of Ching and two of his trainers. “I don’t know what to expect when he first came to lessons, I’ve never worked with an Indian actor,” Ching says. “But he's been dedicated, focused and hard-working.”

Three hours into the session and Roshan is still going full throttle. During one air-swivel exercise, Roshan’s sword clips a trainer’s ear and he smiles apologetically, mildly embarrassed at the goof.

“I’ve had so many injuries,” he says. “Every muscle in my body has been pulled, stretched, hurt. I’ve damaged muscles I didn’t know I had. My wrist,” he says pointing to bandages, “I don’t think I’ve broken it… but it hurts.”

Rehearsals are taped and Roshan rushes to review his progress during his break. Ching has it all on tape for different reasons. “I’ll go back and watch it all again to see what suits him,” he says. “We’ve had limited time, as we do with any film, so I have to work with what we have. He’s been an excellent student and on camera we will focus on what he does well and those are the things I will choreograph into the film when we begin shooting.”

Ching and his team are now busy preparing for a trip to Mumbai for further work on the film. “With CGI, wire-techniques and other effects, it’s like working on an international film – we’ve had no restrictions on what we can do,” he says.

The Oscar-nominated Lagaan (2001), the blockbuster Devdas (2002) and Gurinder Chadha’s crossover Bride and Prejudice (2004) have opened the world’s eyes to the charms of Bollywood And to the possibilities of co-productions. But Roshan says problems remain.

“Calling it a leap of faith would be appropriate,” says Roshan. “With the first film, we used the same special effects team as used in Independence Day. In this film the action is being coordinated here, we're working on getting the sound recorded in Australia and the same American team who worked us earlier is keen to work on this film. The aim for any good production unit is to make the film better than the last and my father is taking a huge risk, but we’re all hoping it’ll be worth it in the end.”

Published in South China Morning Post, Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Feature on Hrithik Roshan from 2021 here.

Behind the Scenes:

- Got more calls from Indian girls about meeting this dude than anyone else. Ever.
- Hrithik is alarmingly nice, helpful and all that's good that's said about him rings true. He's too humble... to the point that I don't believe it's real. But I'm jaded!
- The funniest bit in the interview was when we were trying to get the names of the assistants; the guys came and told Hrithik their full names in Chinese and Hrithik just blanked. He later whispered, "Can we just call them Joe?!"
- He blushed every-time he goofed during rehearsals. He was so embarrassed for himself and he had an archaic 'aww shucks' attitude. He worked non-stop, smacked himself on the head too! All on tape!
- He wanted to see the pics Oliver took and wanted a copy. At one point, while scrolling back, he said, "Eeeee I look bad!" Oliver said there wasn't a single bad shot.
- The entire Hong Kong crew was amazed how quickly he learned his moves. We got many mid-air shots but those got cropped as we've seen those in print all the time in HK, but not in India.

Laughing matter: Interview with Irish comedian Tommy Tiernan

Tommy Tiernan is a favourite on the comedy circuit abroad. Now, locals have the chance to check him out, writes P.Ramakrishnan.

Stand-up comedy when bad, can be grotesque: think of stale punch lines from sitcoms, infantile innuendo, slapstick and simple caricatures. But throw into the mix a true raconteur, a keen wit and genuine observer of our times, and you get a gem like Tommy Tiernan, who single-handedly reinforces one’s faith in traditional stand-up comedy.

Already a familiar face to those who follow the British comedy Father Ted, Tiernan’s stage shows have received praise from the toughest audiences; the British media and the Irish public.

Winning the Perrier award for comedy (in 1998) and standing ovations at a host of comedy festivals, including the Montreal Comedy Festival and the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Tiernan’s reputation has landed in Hong Kong before he does.

He may be funny when he’s working, but, whatever you do, don’t sit next to him in a bar and ask him: “Say something funny – go on.” It has happened.

This is a question and answer conducted during Tiernan’s breaks from a film shoot in Britain:

Have you been to Hong Kong before? “Only in the movies.”

Have you performed in Asia before? “No.”

Is there a subject that you find universally travels well? “Just the barren landscape of my own head.”

In the same vein, does humour travel well? “I would certainly hope so.”

Your material derives from your own life experiences - observational humour. Is there any topic that’s taboo for your? “Other people’s life experiences.”

Do you enjoy your on camera gigs? “Ah, yeah.”

Do you have any say in the script – do you change any lines? Ad lib? Or are you locked into the material handed to you? “The material was fairly locked in, but I had a bit of say about the clothes and my own hair.”

Do you ever get nervous before stepping on stage? “A little.”

Any 'must do in Hong Kong' plans? “Find some trees.”

He’s obviously saving the humour for his series of Hong Kong shows.

“Most stand-up comedians are a bit like that off stage,” says John Moorhead, organiser of the Punchline shows. “But he’s one of the best on stage.

“I’ve seen a whole new world of stand-up recently and this year we have a lot of brilliant comedians coming to Hong Kong for the first time. Apart from Tommy Tiernan, we have (fellow Father Ted star) Aral O’Hanlon later in the year.”

During Tiernan’s live shows in Britain, his seemingly random steams of consciousness have been peppered wit four-letter words as he tackles well trampled subjects such as sex, religion, school days and history.

The New York Times was impressed. “He bring to life everything from a taxi driving duck to small children to a visually challenged schoolmate to an African priest to a woman in the wailing throes of an emotional meltdown," it wrote. “A bright original and refreshingly funny import.”

Moorhead says live comedy is no longer the niche attraction it used to be. “Well, we have former chief secretary Anson Chan (Fang On-sang) on our mailing list, so things are changing. It’s still a predominantly western art from in Hong Kong and will remain so, but we do get a small portion of local people coming now, which is great.”

Any final words from Tiernan? “I’m a clown in a collapsing car. I hope you find my distress as I drive by amusing.”

Of course we will.

Published in The South China Morning Post,
April 14, 2005

Reversal of Fortunes: An Indian Family sues HSBC: Classic David vs Goliath

Esquire was once a symbol of all things Indian – until a bad investment led to its downfall. Now the family’s planning a comeback, writes P.Ramakrishnan. 

To most readers, Esquire conjures images of the popular men’s magazine. But for a generation of Indians, it is synonymous with supplies of electronic goods and Bollywood films and music. Although Esquire ceased operations a decade ago, the trading company made headlines in July after wining a David-and-Goliath legal battle against HSBC: the banking giant was found to have acted with a “total lack of morality and legality” in forcing Esquire to sell a key property and having the troubled firm liquidated when it challenged the sale. 

The bank has since appealed against the ruling and a judgment is imminent. But whatever the outcome, the family of founders Arajan and Gurdas Choithramani feel vindicated by the earlier decision – and they’re ready to move on to a new chapter in their lives. “Our prayers were answered after 11 years,” says Sheela Choithramani, Arajan’s wife. 

Even so, life will never be the same for the Choithramanis, who had been among the leading lights of the local Indian community. The family had to struggle to send their children to university in the US. And six years into the trial, Arajan Choithramani was diagnosed with cancer. Fair-weather friends deserted them. There were grim years for the family. It’s been a harsh reversal of fortunes. 

Though well-appointed, the family’s modest home in castle Peak Road is nothing compared to the luxurious Villa Monte Rosa on Stubbs Road, where they lived in the late 1980s. “We had everything then, a large house, cars and drivers, domestic helpers. We were very involved with the community here. Life was very different then,” Sheela Choithramani says. 

The family hosted extravagant parties, sponsored prizes at the annual Diwali balls and was given to grand gesture – presenting the Indian singer Lata Mangeshkar with a gold CD when she played Hong Kong in 1994, for instance. The good life was founded on Esquire. 

Set up in 1965, it grew briskly in the ‘70s and early ‘80s thanks to the lock that the Choihramanis had on Bollywood entertainment. For decades, they held distribution rights to the films churned out in Mumbai, and grew wealthy selling videos to the Indian Diaspora around the globe. “Esquire was a one-stop shop for all my Indian entertainment needs,” says local businessman Bhagwan Nihalani. “To the best of my knowledge they were they were the first to release Hindi movies on videotape and then on laser disc. Plus, they made their own compilations of songs and video clips.” 

In the early ‘90s, to mark major laser disc releases, they would throw Bollywood-themed bashes where guests dressed to the hilt. Often their soirees were recorded on karaoke disc, with many participants reliving the fun as they sang along to Hindi songs. During later years, Sheela Choithramani was often found behind the Esquire counter with other staff, greeting members of Hong Kong’s 30,000-plus Indian community as they walked in during the annual sales. 

“Their greatest asset was Sheela’s ability to make you feel at home, like it was your own shop,” says Nihalani. “Invariably, I would find myself there at least four times a week to check what was new. When we heard that Esquire was closing, it was a shock.” 

Choithramani, who moved from Delhi in 1973 after marrying her Hong Kong resident husband recalls the early years. “Esquire had a couple of shops on both side of the harbour at first. There were two managing directors, my husband Arajan and his brother Gurdas. They expanded from two to eight shops, and we had about 200 staff.” 

At its peak in the late ‘80s, Esquire’s annual turnover totaled more than $500 million. “We had branches in Mumbai and Delhi, and had agents selling our goods in the Middle East and around Asia, particularly Singapore.” Electronic goods and laser discs formed the core of the business. “We were the first in the world to open the latest copies of Bollywood movies. We bought the worldwide rights to the best Hindi movies,” says Choithramani. “Of course, there was competition with many retail shops, but Esquire was well known and had established itself in the ‘80s,” says her son Ravi Arajan, who was a teenager when Esquire was renting out videos at it Central outlet in Melbourne Plaza.

“Esquire made a name with good service. We were well known because we sold original items. There was nothing fake sold in our shops – including the movies and CDs. We introduced sportswear and we were going to expand on the property market. But then, things didn’t…” Choithramani stops mid-sentence. 

With a deep sigh, she peruses the newspapers spread out on her coffee table – even the Chinese dailies. Although she can’t read the Chinese characters, the pictures hint at the story: her family, her legal team and the opposing ones are lined up with Hong Kong Bank’s iconic lion prominently displayed in one corner of the spreadsheet. Esquire’s foray into property proved to be its undoing. It borrowed HK$180 million from the bank in 1981 to purchase Li Fung House in Central – a 100 per cent loan. Struggling to meet finance charges amid a slumping property market in 1983, it struck a debt restructuring deal with the bank. But following a dispute over debt charges, the company was forced to hand over authority of the property to the bank four years later, which then sold it to the family of Hang Seng Bank founder, Ho Sin-hang. Esquire challenged the sale after learning the details in 1994, and the bank had the company liquidated. Reduced to just two employees, the last remnant of Esquire was a small, second-floor video and CD shop. That, too, pulled down its shutters for the last time in the summer of 1996 after a closing sale. It was only one of many troubles to come. 

“The past 5 years have been the worst,” says Choithramani. Although the family had the help of a formidable legal team, the lengthy dispute with the bank tested their fortitude to the last. “We were struggling through the court battle, and we needed to give the best education to our children and survive. It has been hard to make ends meet over the years, but we managed.” 

Then her husband Arajan, was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer of the plasma cell. “My husband was critically ill and it was due to the stress of this case and everything related to it. You breath stress in the air in Hong Kong,” says Choithramani. “During the trial, all our accounts were frozen, but we managed because we were commission agents for fashion goods for various companies. The children were in good schools and they had grants an scholarships. When they grew up, they were working and helping us – our children have been behind us at every step.” 

Dressed in a black salwar-kameez, her face carefully made up and her eyes stained with kohl, Sheela Choithramani has kept a brave front through the years. “We couldn’t afford private health care. From hosting lavish dinners to worrying about medical bills, you can imagine what we went through,” she says, her voice wavering. She looks down for a second, straightens her back and continues. Thanks to the medical team at the Prince of Wales hospital, her husband has made a “miraculous recovery”, she says. “He passed a stage of cancer, multiple myeloma – it wasn’t the cancer itself, but he had various complications.” 

Choithramani is reluctant to discuss how friends and even relatives have changed when the going got tough. “We have gone through an emotional roller coaster, many ups and downs. But our family have faced it bravely; we always asked for the strength of the Lord to help us through these trials,” she says. “Over the years, perhaps we’ve lost a few friends. But if the ocean loses a few drops, it doesn’t dry up. We’ve managed just fine.” 

A resilient matriarch, Choithramani is keen to get going again. “Once the settlement is done, we will restart, bigger and stronger than ever,” she says. “I don’t know if it’ll be in electronics because the market isn’t what it use to be, but the next step is to ensure that the children can fulfill their dreams. Winning the case has been ours.” 

In pic, Arajan and Sheela Choithramani for the Social pages of SCMP in 1973. 

Published in Life Thursday, December 15, 2005 South China Morning Post

Universal appeal: Sushmita Sen: Bollywood Icon: Beauty Queen

In the psychedelic, musical realm of Bollywood, there isn’t a person more grounded and irresistibly charming than Sushmita Sen, beauty queen of
yesteryear and current cine-screen siren. P.Ramakrishnan spent 36 hours with, who he calls with misty eyed sighs, heaven.


An hour after her performance at the Diwali Dreams concert at the Intercontinental hotel in Hong Kong, Sushmita Sen, 29, former Miss Universe and current Bollywood diva, wipes off cakes of makeup and mascara in her plush suite.

“Isn’t it a miracle what makeup can do?” she asks as the sheaths of café-au-lait foundation is wiped clean, an impressive mask that hid from the 800-strong audience her body quivering exhaustion after hop scotching over three countries in as many days.

“It’s every actresses help-kit, hides whatever you want to hide before you get in front of the camera, a stage, a studio. I haven’t slept properly all week.”

In another 10 hours, she’s back on a plane, zooming off to Dubai for a film shoot, in what’s going to be one of her busiest years in her film career with four releases lined up in six months. Pressed for time, it’s a one-off chance to talk to one of the most beautiful women in the world, correction, Universe, as her silken sash clearly indicated that fateful night on May 21, 1994. Though she took off the crystal studded tiara long ago, its halo has never left.

Reflections on the crown and glory night are put on pause as she sighs, “I don’t think we can get much done tonight. Can we postpone the interview? There’s a gaping hole in my head!” Bending over slightly, she parts her honey-brown follicles and reveals strands of hair caked with blood.

“I always do my own make-up. I know my face and I know what it needs but with my hair I asked for an assistant. The hair extensions she put in my head were… I don’t know being stapled in? After one particular stab, I asked her to be a bit more careful,” she says with only the slightest hint of vexation. “When she started I could see she was nervous, her hands were trembling and I didn’t create a fuss because then nothing would have been accomplished. I bit my lip, let her finish, went down, did my thing and here I am… with a hole in my head!”

Well of course the hairdresser goofed in her nervousness. How many people get to play with a
silver-screen goddesses' tresses? No diva tantrums and hysteria from Sen ensued, “I don’t like to shout and scream. Creating a fuss is not my style.”

If it’s any consolation, her blood, sweat and tears were not in vain. Sen’s electrifying dance medley to her biggest musical numbers from her film career was staged flawlessly on stage in Hong Kong. From the moment she walked in, flanked by four bouncers as she sifted her way through the crowd, the audience called out “Sushi! Sushi!” (much to her acknowledged
delight). From her glamourous entrance to the choreographed perfection of her dances, she played her part of a superstar well.

There’s the on-screen persona, and then there’s the person underneath, equally affable. Local resident and dancer Rani Asra Gidwani, was one of the lucky few who got to meet Sen off stage, “She was amazing! Perfect dance. And when we spoke, it was like we’ve known each other forever!”

Even the organisers gush about Sush. Kishore Samtani says, “She’s great to talk to but hard to pin down. That’s the only difficulty we had because she’s either shooting, dancing, flying here or there. She gave us no trouble, no hassles. None of the rubbish you hear about actresses.”

Did she win Miss Congeniality when she in the pageant? She throws her head back in laughter. “No I never did! Not for Miss India, nor for Miss Universe! But its OK, I got the crown didn’t I?”

The genetically blessed one beat out 55 other contestants in 1994 to bring home the coveted title
and crown, edging out Miss Venezuela, the country that once monopolised the pageant arena until that year. Since Sen’s unprecedented win, India’s gone on to take home six crowns over a span of a decade, with a finalist in every pageant every year since. India Today thus proclaimed her historic triumph, one of the 56 most significant events that shaped India; “India seemed to have taken out a patent on international beauty crowns. That Rita Faria was the first Indian to win the Miss World crown 28 years ago was forgotten in the near-hysteria that gripped the country in 1994. An entire industry was born, geared to turning gawky ducklings into tiara-wearing swans.”

When I bring up that evening that catapulted her to the stratosphere of fame, Sen presses her lacquered nails into her forehead, trying to rub away fatigue, “God, it was so long ago. I don’t know why people still call me Miss Universe?”

Sitting in a lotus position at the edge of her bed in her Intercontinental suite, she’s quick to notice my raised eyebrow, as I didn’t swallow her self-deprecating comment.

“I sincerely don’t think I was the prettiest girl at the pageant, but I was honest, true to myself. No other Indian had come anywhere close to a win, so I had fun just being there. No expectations. No disappointment. I got to keep the crown too – no other pageant lets you do that. It’s somewhere in a cupboard at home.”

Nearly 4am, room service trolleys in food and as Sen saunters to the bathroom which is bombarded with a smorgasbord of makeup kits, brushes, and flecks of cigarette ashes on the sink. Before she returns, the waiter leans and whispers, “Can you please tell her that I’m sorry that food came late? And I’m a very big fan. I saw her in Malaysia years ago!”

When she comes out, he almost genuflects and hits the exit before even hinting for an autograph. People are quite taken aback by her sheer presence, the man’s bravado to ask for a picture from her wanes and he scuttles away.

“It’s the celebrity perception, nothing to do with me. I’m working on a film right now where the director has me parading up and down in different outfits at the beginning of each shoot. Then he looks at my nails, then my lipstick, see if I’m coordinated. After ten minutes, last week he said, the eyeliner is not right. I was packed off to the makeup room to get “the look” perfected. The genius-complex directors used to get on my nerves, but now I’m chilled out.”

Looking the part of a dream girl on screen still takes precedence over nearly every role Sen has done. Not much of a stretch - she starred as Miss Universe in her first film (who gets kidnapped by a man obsessed by her and heroically, she kills him off at the end!), and she’s been cast as the temptress who makes the leading man cheat on his wife in two different films already. About the seductress on screen routine she states, “I’ve done enough of the bimbette roles and had enough of that. I don’t have the box-office success that makes me straitjacketed or typecast in a role of the heroine and I get a chance to experiment. Whatever the results may be at the cash registers.”

Clearly destined to stay afloat in the celebrity pool, it’s been an eventful decade under the limelight. What’s still etched sharply in memory?

“I still remember after I won, I’ll never forget that first day - I had my own driver and limousine there, this fantastic apartment with a pool. I had my own pool! I had just flown on a transatlantic flight, was dead tired but after pretending to be unfazed by the celebrity treatment, I finally had a moment to myself to let it all sink in. I sat by the pool for a while. Well, my housekeeper reminded me that it wasn’t for a while, it was the whole night. My life has never been the same.”

Once bitten by the celebrity bug, Sen, almost predictably landed in Hindi movies. All the pageant
divas proclaim wills to do good on earth and end up wanting to keep their fame alight for as long as possible by any mean or measure. If its not modelling, its movies or millionaire men. Indian actress Manisha Koirala, bluntly said in an interview, “These beauty queens all proclaim the same thing. Say they want to be Mother Teresa and end up shaking their ass in films.”

That statement appeared years ago in print, Koirala now, happens to be one of Sen’s film producers, “Manisha’s a great friend and honest to the core. Working in her film has been loads of fun.” That’s all Miss Diplomacy has to say on that.

The embodiment of the modern Mumbai gal, Sen went on to adopt a baby girl Renee, now five, and she told the press that she was ready to be a mother, even if man wasn’t in the picture. There have been several high-profile romances with directors, models, hoteliers that made headlines with Sen, but no one made history.

“I’m not crazy about talking about the man in my life right now. I don’t want to jinx it,” she grins. Rumours are that actor Randeep Hooda, one of the stars in the acclaimed film Monsoon Wedding, and she are more than good friends but not wanting to be chucked out of a speeding Mercedes and our newfound friendship (ahem!), I keep quite as we speed off to the airport.

There’s a whopper of a ring on her index finger, a diamond the size of a quail egg that sparked off
rumours that marriage was at last impending for India’s most eligible singleton. She quashes that tabloid fabrication with ease, “I bought the ring for myself, with my own money. It is a symbol, a symbol of what I’ve achieved as a woman of independent means. Didn’t need no man to give this to me!”



Picture courtesy of TAG Heuer. Sushmita Sen sports LINK Lady Quartz Chronograph.

Published in Kee magazine, summer of 2005.