Pop Quiz Hot Shot

Where does one find Sridevi, Madhuri Dixit, Juhi Chawla, Sanjay Dutt, Salman Khan, a weird WWF star, may be Sachin Tendulkar all together or in some incestuous combination, at a single place?

("Visual" Hint: White patches, arms at perfect right angles to shoulder joints, same with other limbs too)


ans: Hyderabadi Bone Setting Centres...

this Reader cannot Digest

the fact that the one publication I have looked up to, and in whose association my family has felt immense joy and pride, can commit such a blunder. Of late "alphabets" has become a common occurrence across all forms of media; not to forget "the alphabet A", "the alphabet Z" etc etc.

DeWitt Wallace might squirm in his grave.

tch

night in gale

I have realized I have never respected nights per se. Not that it has been a source of nuisance to others but personally speaking I have cared two hoots for the clock when my stuff was in question. I have drawn flack for it when body gave up at times. If things had to be done, they had to be done. Period.

So I should not be complaining of jet lags or body clocks going haywire!

I should not be.

Aayo Re

Cool breeze... Air of familiarity... Hyderabadi/Deccani... Rajiv Gandhi... Marredpally West... CCMB... Sahara States... Warm home... Warmer room... Cosy surroundings... Homely food... Home food... Calls of concern... Courtesies... People... Rascals (Sreenidhi, Aatreya, Sukruthi) "when are you getting married mama?"... Jolts from unexpected quarters... Concern... Health... Airport again... Farewell... Unnikrishnan, Bombay Jayasri on "Narumugaye"... Departures... Pals... Relations... "American dream at the cost of relations and occasions" (Ashish Narain)... Planning... White wonders... mails from Vijay Marur and Rama... Home theatre... Australia vs New Zealand... Chappell-Hadlee... ESPN-Channel 9... Olive Green score cards... The Da Vinci Code... HBO... LSU disaster...

Chicago Hope

12th December '07; O'Hare International, Chicago, US

Connecting to Frankfurt, Germany : ~ 30 minutes

Listless.

Out came the cell phone and quickly were punched in ten digits with equal listlessness.

"Hey! Hi T K"

"Are you travelling?"

"Yes"

"Where are you?"

"Chicago"

"Terminal?"

"C 12"

"OK! See you there. I am in C 16"

Yes, I did know I would meet him at all costs this time around, my choc-a-bloc schedule notwithstanding.

Never did I know it would be this soon at a place less anticipated.

Destiny?

Chicago to Frankfurt seemed smoother, and full.

Listless no more.

I still don't believe it.

Fourteen years!

B +ve

Cipher... Dignity... Hope... Truth... Trust... Courage... Frustration... Class... Hemant Chaturvedi... Faith... Love... Hate... Inevitable... Poise... Loyalty... Role Play... Shabana Azmi... Poignance... Boman Irani... Life... Cipher

Farhan Akhtar

Red Light Area

Of prudes, of prunes, of peons, of paeans, of pines, of pine...


It is trim time!

Just Within Me

I can't just recall when in recent times I would have campaigned for a movie so wholeheartedly. I surprise myself. My reaction and my response surprises me going by the cast, and I think it stops at that. Nothing done by the duo barring her mind blowing Dolly Mishra and mysterious Meera had prepared me in anyway that the movie could find so much favour from me. Would I count this movie in my picks? Negative. Would I label this path breaking? Negative. But somewhere the honesty surfaces amidst all the familiar flourishes we so want, and we so are used to. It is precisely where a right mix of predictability and unpredictability takes you by delightful surprise. It is where city merges with town so seamlessly that I am already in awe. Or wait! is it because of the true to life depiction of train episodes and railway stations? I don't know and my word shouldn't be taken for it for I have natural fetish for trains and trains in movies. No I am not even going there.

Imtiaz's work doesn't do without the customary songs and dance numbers set to them. It has them and has them in abundance. But where a "Mauja hi Mauja" alternates with Mohit Chauhan's "Tum Se Hi", you give it to them. You give it to them when Nataraj "Nutty" Subramanian reins himself well. You also give it to them when you have forgotten mathematically the number of twists and turns in the tale because you are so engrossed in the fare that you couldn't care less. When pages of dialogue are replaced by conversational gems, you feel good. When blues and yellows and blues and oranges alternate, you feel happy. You feel good when you write something about it just from the recall value and read nothing about it in abundance probably; and also when you have not looked forward to it because it is not worth your time and space.

You feel good penning about something which self admittedly isn't up there actually yet leaves a mark so utterly indelible. You feel good when Ms.Kapoor blows you away with her on screen persona making you crave more.

When Mr.Kapur pitches in such a restrained antithetical show, you are relieved because somewhere you want Ms.Kapoor to hog the limelight. Limelight she does hog, for this is truly hers. She does well in reminding me of my own imaginary muse.



aaah! that flute piece in Ustad Rashid Khan's "aaoge jab tum"...

f 5

I silently hope there were a titular button on our heads. Whenever banality, mediocrity threaten to put us down how I wish I could lunge to hit the button. Better, I could gift to some close pals too.

Days in our lives are like those webpages; when in good state they get loaded at a pace that would make everyone happy. Otherwise they are like those duds wherein one knows what the ultimate view of the page would look like to the actual potential, but are too slow to even show half the view. In the latter the status bar resembles those hose pipes which do not let the full flow of water gushing in, courtesy some junk blocking it.

Precisely that is where I propose a recharge, a refresh

...an f 5

Aqua Culture

I like curves

I like straight lines, little

I don't like much of sharpness

I like things smooth

I like European

I like Telugu

I like the sound of Telugu

I like neutral accents

I like furniture simple

I like abstract

I like functional

I like fluids

I like wet grass

I like fluidity

I like organic

Organic describes me the best

I like subjectivity

I like smooth turns

I like grace

I like lazy elegance

I like Azzha, VVS

I like a little crispiness

I like a little nonchalance

I like vast skies

I like being by huge water bodies

I like sedans, I dislike sports cars

I like a little of gloss

I like matte

I like motion

I like still

I like ellipses

I like circles

I like smooth, unobtrusive angles

I like slow panning of the camera

I like infinity

I like space

I like snug fits

I like sharp cuts

I like the comfort of cuffs

I like arrhythmic music

I like music that is beyond pallavi and anupallavi

I like rhythmic music

I like crisp poetry

I like fluid poetry

I like perfection, if it exists

I like imperfection, it exists

I like sanity

I like a little mayhem

I like raw

I like finesse

I like class

I like naughty

I like corduroy

I like green

I like olive green

I like cover drive

I like cotton

I like customs

I like practicality

I like to like that I like God

I like trains

I like trains in sheds and yards

I like sympathizing with trains in sheds and yards

I like trains in motion

I like dilapidated moss laden junctions, cabins, signal rooms

I like trains running on an imaginary track snaking through woods

I like long platforms

I like abandoned trains

I like abandoned stations

I like abandoned railway tracks

I like imaginary railway tracks leading to nothing

I like train cuisine

I like breakfast wrapped in banana leaves and paper on trains

I like wood

I like rains

I like scientific temperament

I like to wonder

I like scientific temperament, not at all times

I like sound

I like visual

I like normal

I like paranormal

I like surreal

I like curd

I like cows

I like folklore

I like fusion

I like to dislike remix

I like alloys

I like standalone

I like the sound of pure Urdu

I like wet roofs

I like indoor plants

I like khus khus screens

I like cane

I like mosaic

I like crooked, broken, uneven slabs

I like it low

I like it high

I like a merc

I like mystery

I like history

I like an imaginary cave with inexplicable light from an equally inexplicable source

I like carnatic

I like spice

I like white

I like rooms, spaces, junctions in homes which cannot be slotted

I like tall trees

I like old watches

I like mechanically wound watches

I like the seconds hand in a watch move smooth

I like order

I like disarray

I like detailed

I like brevity

I like it sensual

I like it physical

I like distance

I like proximity

I like macro

I like micro

I like children

I like the child in Gulzar

I like the man in Gulzar

I like Amol Palekar

I like it hot

I like to absolutely dislike lukewarm

I like optimism

I like effort

I like straight

I like purity

I like a little madness

My Best Friend's Wedding

My best friend LN is going in for a wedlock in January.

Here's wishing her a very happy, leveling, eventful, fruitful and fulfilling marriage.

Mega Pixels

As I scour the web for good deals, particularly for camcorders and digicams, I notice a phenomenon. Not that this is totally new, it has surfaced again in a slightly different form. Years ago the brands aiwa, akai started a trend wherein its mid-range and hi-end audio systems carried 1000 Watt, 2000 Watt tags. Discerning consumers were too quick to scoff at the phenomenon saying it's the RMS that mattered, and not the PMPO. It didn't matter how high the PMPO was, what mattered was how high the RMS was. Brands like Samsung, LG, and aiwa went in for a rebuttal saying it's the aam admi who mattered to them, the bill paying populace they were catering to. High end brands like Sony and Panasonic, I reckon, were wrong in believing that they could be aloof from this trend. Alas, they had to succumb; succumb, grudgingly. So where a 1000 Watt PMPO would have the jaws hitting the earth in mid and late 90s, 3500 Watt PMPO have been the order of the day; audiophiles still screaming that it was the RMS that would decide a home theatre system buy.

Similar trend has caught on in digicams. Where 3 MegaPixels (MP) was "decent" in early 2000s, 8, 9 and 10 rule today. Make that 12. It has been said well and over that the higher digit MP cameras are required only when one decides to go for blow-ups or large prints, and that is precisely where the difference between a 6MP and say a 7MP would show. Similar is the case with zoom (optical/digital). So one needn't be surprised if one found a more expensive model with lesser zoom capacity than a cheaper model with higher zoom. This is because the latter would be the proverbial hot-cake targetted at an entry level buyer. Anyway the companies seem to care two hoots for all this and are leaving no pebble unturned to raise the numerical bar.

Is this indicative of the requirement on brands' part to play to the masses? May be that answers the diluting down of the uber premium image of Sony, which had steadfastly stuck to its no gimmick stand. May be it was a lesson learnt that one cannot be excessively self indulgent at the cost of alienating one's audience/target group/consumer base. Unless you are a Bose, that is.

Are Anurag Kashyap, Sony India-Columbia TriStar-SLB listening?

man of the century

"There is a point in time when you and you only know - the rest know it a second later - and it's the best feeling as a batsman"



Adam Gilchrist on the joy of a six.



Adam has a hundred now

Home Santy Home

No, this is not an exercise in narcissism but a reminder to myself.

28 days to go.


Paakanum!

Team India Kumble Odhkar

WOW!

This is something I have waited for aeons now. It has happened, albeit when the boots are ready to be hung up. Do I see a move from here to the Box behind the mike donned in razor sharp suits? Frankly I don't care. I feel he has got his due for all the yeoman service he has done unflinchingly for 17+ long long years.

What a turn of events, ironically!

Poetic Justice

and she bloomed!

mani matters

angry?



nah! that is S P Thamilselvam, an LTTE bigshot shot down by the airforce.


pic courtesy: IBNLIVE

mani matters

pondering






pic courtesy: google images

Idling away to glory

I consider them the most unpretentious, straightforward, WYSIWYG, simple, innocuous culinary pieces devised by man. Okay! the oriental, and the southern species at that. I am notorious for having them at any time of the day, any number of times, in forms best not described, and textures best left untouched. I had almost reconciled to the fact I would be not be laying my hands on these marvels for a long long time to come courtesy my relocation, a short imminent trip back home notwithstanding. Yes, there have been many a discussion across tables over dinners, brunches about how the Americans could be introduced to these girth friendly wonders. About how these don't leave a hole in the essentially deep pockets out here when made in bulk. About how these transcend without a trace of trans. About how just about any accompaniments go well with these, not eclipsing the core taste at all.

I opine, and not many agree that these taste the same when cold, as when they are hot. That's an eccentric point I have always wanted to drive home. There were days, the Vellore Chapter, when the gap between Sunday nights and Monday mornings seemed extremely torturous. My pals didn't concur. Did I care? Thankfully it's history. Nothing comes between me and my white discs of joy. Many a cart fellow in Bangalore, and Hyderabad would have felt grateful to me for making their mornings. So thanks to the wonderful couple, Bhargavi and Murali for making my day today.

Remembering...

Holy Master's Voice

Pre Marital Status?

In about two months' time, I will have walked up the aisle. I am scared to open this chapter, many claim will decide the course of rest of my life. I believe neither in prophecies nor probability. As I often say, whatever is bound to happen shall.

I pray I am bestowed with the power to retain my self in all times to come. More than that I sincerely pray I am empowered enough to respect her as she is, and let her be. Doomsday it shall be for my self, if she were to cut down on her dignity, respect, integrity, honor for my sake. I have adored her for all the afore mentioned qualities and I have adored for what she is. If I were to be asked, life is an individual's journey first and foremost. Rest follow. I don't mean to sound Objectivist. I hope this union of ours just enables her achieve whatever she aspires for, and whatever she dreams. I hope I am the facilitator and a mere facilitator. I hope I don't take this relation for granted, and I cross my heart I have never taken any. I absolutely do not mind if I were to be used as a platform, and if it were to happen I shall take pride in that. I hope I am the usher to the avenues and she doesn't miss out on any. I hope the wonderful times and the joy we have shared are not momentary. I hope there is no pre or post to this relation. I hope the wedding is just a joyous celebration, a mere sanction to many, and for many. I hope she doesn't have to give up on anything that she claims hers. People and resources. I hope the madness continues forever, for she is like any other friend to me. I am lying. She is much more than that. Christ forbid, if things turned sour she should know she is free to move away, and she knows that. I shall love her the way I have and will continue to with no iota of ill will whatsoever. I hope I am given strength to consider her aspirations as mine, and in her success, in her happiness shall lie mine. I consider individual to be supreme, and in no circumstance shall he/she lose that individuality. But again true love is one in which one forgets oneself. I hope I happily forget myself. I don't want her to be tagged to me. I don't want my name to be her identity. Let her carve her own niche. Let it be earth shattering, or let it be ghoulishly silent. The choice is hers. If she were to forsake me during her journey, I shall happily move aside. She knows that I shall cheer on sitting thousands of miles away. On my part though I commit myself to her. I have no idea what true love means and for me the phrase is a fallacy. I hope she garners enough courage, mental strength, to live her life with her chin up. I hope she is not answerable to anyone, not even me. I hope she just doesn't remain a role player. I hope she remains true to herself. I hope she grabs every opportunity that comes knocking at her doors, and contribute to her mental, physical, and spiritual growth. I hope she lives her life with the same elan with or without me. It is perfectly okay if she cannot set an example for others. It would be great if she could set one for herself. I sincerely hope she respects life for whatever it is in the truest sense, and make nothing, just about nothing larger than life.

Inshallah...

I still don't know what true love means, but I know I love her.

Right now?

My current train of thoughts which in fact is sort of a continuum and of sorts from the past begs that question. If it were not for the self-admittedly lazy bones, I should have penned mine a while ago. Long ago. Knowing myself it wouldn't materialise ever, if the seeds aren't sown now. The wherewithals are there, I realise. I hope I get to do myself a favor this one time and go about it. I care two hoots if all this were to sound a little vainglorious on my part. If not for anyone else, I have to do it for myself. As someone claimed I have to be a voyeur yet again to my inner self, surprisingly cloaked for a while.

It is about time I surprised myself big big time.


It is about time.

Wholeheartedly

, how I wish, the '98 "ahead-of-its-times" classic were released today.

I can't imagine the effect this wonder would have now on 70mm.

A scissor here, a two there. A perfect run through the Digital Intermediate for the sheen. Just to the right level.

That's about it. Add nothing, take away nothing. Let the passion and the insanity be unbridled.
Let the engines roll all over again. Let Ms. Arora Khan sway yet again to Gulzar's chaste Urdu atop the moving inferno. Let Guy Pratt, Keith Peters, John Themis cut loose.

Let H.Sridhar, S.Sivakumar and Yak Bondy's work in the studios be an exercise in revision for those who seek. Let Samir Chanda teach design again. Let M. G. Sreekumar utter those at-first-incomprehensible malayalam lines yet again, with the nightingale for support. Let Pia Benegal and Manish Malhotra smile smugly at their line of work.

Let Shaad Ali not mind assisting again. Let Meeta Vasisht, Ken Philip, Zohra Sehgal, Arundhati Rao, Aditya Shrivastav, and Piyush Mishra get theatric for one more time.

Let Ms.Zinta shoot "Are you a virgin"? with the same dimpled charm.

Let the Southern Railways take credit and be a part of one of the more arresting cinematic experiences on the silver screen in decades.

Let the Programme Executive from the All India Radio be on a run again.

Let Connaught Place, and the vintage Delhi be visited again.

Let Tigmanshu Dhulia be known not just for his Star Best Sellers, or a Haasil, or a Charas.

Let Shekhar Kapur and Ram Gopal Varma feel proud of India Talkies again.

Let Rahmania be succumbed to again.

Let Santosh Sivan's wizardry on Super 35s, Arri 535s, akelas, jimmy jibs be a small lesson in mechanics, physics, co-ordinates and aesthetics to the current wannabes.








Let the master be visited again.

TheeK

...hai, bilkul! achha lagta hai jab kisi ka pehchan woh naam ho jo bachpan mein aam hua karta tha. Aise log kam they jo mujhe mere asli naam se pukarte. Yeh badappan nahi hoga ke mujhe jinhone padhaaya vey bhi isi tarah se bulaate aur main ho jaata "haan ji!" aadat si ho gayi thi, aur yeh chala dus saal tak. Zindagi aage badhi. naam pukarne ke tareeke bhi kuch aise hee badle. Koi yeh kehta tho koi woh, par jab tak dhang sahi tha sab theek tha.

Phir ek aisa samay aaya jab mera jo asli naam tha, woh kissi dhang se ubhra aur yeh kuch jacha nahi mujhe. Phir bhi kya karta, naam tha wah mera. Sahna padha. Shikayat thodi kar sakta. Par sahi mein jacha nahi.

Aur aisa bhi ek naam aaya jo mera kiya karaya tha. Agar main apne alavaa aur kissi ko doshi maanta tho woh hota saala Paritosh, ek aisa kaalpanik bhooth jisse maine hi paida kiya.

Yeh jo daur hai, yeh sahi hai. Duniya gol hai. Ab log mujhe phir se wahi paarivarik naam se bulaate hain jisse sunne mein koi ajeeb sa achhapan mehsoos karta hoon.

Laghu hai, par sahi hai.

Woh kehte hain na, Life has come a full circle.

Achha lagta hai :)

Kissa KJo Ka

I admit I haven't been charitable in my words about his work in the past, and if one were to think that I have changed, well I haven't. But surely I have become more tolerant.

I have always been tolerant and I can claim tolerance has been one of my few virtues. I might not agree with you but then I am tolerant, and respectfully tolerant. I have had nothing against him personally, and I see no reason to have any. But I did bark majorly against his oeuvre which was hailed as the next best thing to have happened after the invention of wheel. Today from what I see of him, and I read about him I sense there's that demon catching up. The demon which is spelt as S-E-N-I-L-I-T-Y. Good or bad, I feel there is a place for him. There's a place for everyone. Everyone is allowed a few false moves during his baby steps. He has had his chance. I have a feeling if he were to only use his clout that he enjoys in a much better fashion he could probably end up walking up the red carpet one day. I don't expect him to change at all, and that would be a crime. He better be what he is now. He is a fine example. I must admire his guts, his apparent belief in his convictions. I must say he has his balls at the right place.

Finally, I might agree with him seldom, but I am getting increasingly tolerant.

je vous remercie...

Envi Sage...

...I couldn't, that one day I would be just a call away from him. I and only I know what I have gone through to get in touch with him. He was my buddy from my fourth standard through the seventh, a period which was truly defined by innocence, and innocence in its rawest form. Not any of the current maturity that weighs us down; those were the days spent in absolute abandon. He left for Calcutta in the summer of '94. We did keep in touch with each other over snail mails. Descriptive , extremely. I would read out his mails to the entire class proudly showing off the recipient's address. I have come across many a dude after that, I agree; in fact people who I hit off very well with. Somewhere my heart craved him, and as I said only I know how desperate I was. I knew he would be doing good for himself somewhere and wholeheartedly I wished him the very best. 13th of June'96 was the last time I spoke to him.

Time flew by. While at my official chores during one of those beautiful GE John.F.Welch TC, Bangalore days of '06, I googled his name. I don't know what struck me then. I still don't. I was throwing a stone in the dark. The first hit I chanced upon threw his webpage. Was it him? I did take a chance though. Plucked out the e-mail ID out of the page and I quote the letter I wrote, almost verbatim.

Hello,

Hi to you if this is the Rishi I knew from K V Picket from Karaikudi. If not, heck, still a hi to you, and you have a wonderful day.

Regards,
T K

Not sure as to whether he would reply I was lost in my quotidian aspects only to be given a jolt the following morning.

Inbox (1) Re: Hello!!!


I can't get myself to describe what transpired after that, it's kind of beyond words.

Now I speak to him often. Tough to believe. Tough because he was the same guy who I tried to get through to, resorting to things crazy. His father was a senior man in the LIC of India, and I wont deny that the thought of knocking at the doors of LIC headquarters did occur to me.

He went to IIT Madras to pursue his BTech and currently is at Purdue for his MS, and a PhD. I have invited him to my wedding and when he shows up in January '08, it will have been full fourteen years.

God bless Rishi.


Today all I know is he is just a call away...

Hot Dawgs!

Last evening, I was an audience to the one of the more enriching and satisfying sporting events of my life. All my watching experiences have been so far on the telly tube. So this one was special. Never imagined the Davis Wade Stadium could pack in so much and so many. WOW! what an atmosphere! If encouragement in any form or of any sort were key to success, then the visitors had better look out for greener victory fetching pastures elsewhere. Musical bands, cheer groups, live commentary, television OB vans, sign boards, sponsors, cow bells, hooting, booing, anthems and all the jazz. You submit yourself so much to the enthusiasm and the wild spirit around that the fact that this game is as alien to you as much the martians are, hardly matters! You cheer, jump with the crowd and join in whenever the time is appropriate and you had better be careful about the wrong'uns lest they annoyed the cheer parties.

There's so much more I could write going on a tangent. So much more about the bohemian attitude that pervades this fun and experience. So much more about this seemingly wonderful place called the United States of America. So much more!

As for the result which was purely of academic interest, the visitors were pulped and yes, barking dogs did bite!

You too be?

I was reading out aloud a piece of news on Rediff as to how 88 people were killed in a Thailand plane crash when He remarked, "video pettademo chooda ra!"


Guess it's the sign of the age we live in!

Free for all...

commentaire!

I notice that this special art is seeing its special performers slightly lose it out to more pedestrian fly-by-night operators. If ever I have to draw a list of its special priests in no particular order this would be it.

Mark Nicholas

Richie Benaud

David Gower

Michael Holding

Henry Blofeld

and

Harsha Bhogle.


I am also tempted to push him in there for he is going to make the cut too soon. Ah, it's so clear a writing on the wall.

Powar Play?

I strongly suspect it. I usually refrain from forming opinions based on the hearsay or from the apparent truths sitting miles away in the comfort of my couch. 101 out of 100 times. I give in to temptations for a change. Not that I haven't exactly given this a thought before, but with the kind of drama unfurling, or that is about to unfurl my thoughts about this seem to be getting up from the hibernatorial slumber. Sacrifice, empathy, jealousy, selfishness, heroics and what have you?

Rahul Dravid, according to my school of special thought, hails from the IIM breed of cricketers. Everything that he did was right. Everything followed a code. Everything had to make sense. Everything that he uttered had to be weighed and superweighed before they touched his tongue. Nothing that he could was wrong and in a manner entirely surprising to me, things that he did at times no matter how contradictory they were compared to his earlier ones, were automatically justified. So it comes as a real jolt to me and not that I am too sad about it, this shrewd soul comes forward to resign his post.

Was it done keeping the future and the bigger picture in mind? Was it a special acquiescence on this otherwise tactful man's part? Was it a larger fabric being crafted wherein if the warps were in the hands of the Sharad Powars, the wefts were being pushed in by the Dilip Vengsarkars? and Rahul Dravid merely a sedate mannequin who would wear just the final cut! Appeasement for peace, anybody?

Any cricket lover no matter how big a fan of SRT will agree in his sleep that the Bombay Blaster is tuning himself to the render the notes of his swan song right. So to have his image unblemished, were efforts being put in by the Circus Pack to throw down one last gauntlet at him, the post of Team India skipper; the ultimate test to one's supremacy which could well turn into a noose otherwise? 1996-1997 and 1999-2000 will bear silent testimonial to that.

Was Rahul Dravid letting himself being knocked a bit initially not minding losing some of his pawns? This knowing very well somewhere in one cerebral pocket of his mind that he would have the ultimate sardonic smile, in this bout of chess he would wantedly or unwantedly have to battle with the BCCI.

Come on where else would we see a skipper return home after nearly dousing the feline fire in their own backyard worthy enough of smug smiles and commercial bandwith, just throw it away?

The members of my IIM breed of cricketers do not let chinks to be formed in the walls. They are too good for that. They are bullwarks. Only one species falls under this breed of mine.

I hope the Royal Bengal Tiger is sprucing his suit and getting the cuffs right.

I do not like my IIM breed.

"Hey Ram!"

My joblessness, and add a couple of ounces of insomnia to that, led me to watching Swades (2004). It took me back to the days when good movie viewing was just a couple of decisions, and perhaps a train ride away to Prasads. I was reminded of this track Pal Pal Hai Bhari, and I can't help but recall my thoughts of the yore.

Pal Pal Hai Bhari

"... mann se jo raavan nikaale
ram uske mann mein hai

mann se jo raavan nikaale
ram uske mann mein hai..."

filmed on: SHAHRUKH KHAN lyrics: JAVED AKHTAR original music & vocals: ALLAH RAKHA RAHMAN and shehnai arrangement on the album: USTAD BISMILLAH KHAN



Jai Sriram!

PERL JAMMED

never been like this!

i-P(R)OD

... myself again and over into the deal.


I will eat, and for a change the whole apple shall be mine.

BAT MAGIC

I hate to get into statistics when singing "paeans", so I wouldn't go there.

The piece on cricinfo resulted in goosepimples.

This was inevitable. This was coming.

You still don't want cricinfo to be a messenger of bad news. bad for me...

When this merchant of pure joy walks into the sunset, I repeat geometry and symmetry on turf shall not remain the same.

Generations to come might not see three coeval MRF gems battling it out for the supremacy.

Visualising the scene when dada bids adieu to him, bids adieu to us.



It is a bad feel inside.

carnage

Got to watch a small video, which had the English batsman Dmitri Mascarenhas hoist Yuvraj "Yuvi" Singh for five sweeties in a row. Not since the Matara Marauder Sanat Jayasuriya or the Beefcake Beauty Shahid Afridi from 1996, have I witnessed such a clean clubbing of the cherry.

Dmitri's parents probably would have run out of options when naming him.


Dmitri Massacrenhas rings well.

ash won

I shall forever be proud of you... easily an inspiration for anyone, for me!

Hope this spirit of yours doesnt flag.

Burn those CDs

I am not getting musical here.


For all the contrast in thinking styles, behavioral patterns and ways of life that I truly believe in, I still secretly want this planet to be gotten rid of these unholy arseholes.

Good for Nothing.

Cynical Defeatists! we could do very well without you

Nothing Clinical About It...

Early this morning, I was delighted to learn Subbu's news. The dude had just cleared his Step 2, an apparently and allegedly monstrous hurdle among the various steps towards his residency programme here in the US. This happened naturally for I perfectly relate to the stress the medicos undergo and the turmoil they go through before they can actually claim to be labelled as the real doctors, the way the society wants to see them. Hopes and lots of them pinned on their fragile shoulders, these dudes move on turning thick skinned on the way to the ever riling well wishers, the society and sometimes sadly, their folks.

Sometimes, not...

I found myself smiling in absolute joy even when Subbu was out of the frame, talking to his folks, as I realised what he had achieved. That said a lot.

I was happy for him then and even now when I punch in all this. Beyond words.

I know. I am expected to know. If only destiny which I believe in had some other author, or the current one in a better mood I should have been there. Ergo for every success in this area I see, I feel elated.


Nice, really nice

madras

I have been to this place quite a few times, but never spent time long enough to consume it in its full splendour, all the negative talk notwithstanding.

There's something about the place that arrests someone like me, an on and off kind of a visitor. Is it the familiarity, and the similarity to my place? Is it the rich arresting dose of culture and tradition waiting to be acknowledged? Is it the history locked up in time, outwardly stuck in a time warp with its mothballed ideologies to some waiting to embrace modernity as and when it can? Is the glitz, is it the grandeur... is it the people?

is it a je ne sais quoi?

Is it much much more about a place which has acted as the ground of my thought process subconsciously? Only I could explain that.

If devil-may-care-attitude is anything to go by, I love madras...

If colors, chaos, rhythm in a paradoxically arhythmic place are anything to go by,

I like the madness of madras

Waste Marred Pally

Last evening appa and I happened to be in the good old area; a place in Hyderabad that I would call mine for reasons known to me, that has given me immense joy in a way only it could have. The West to be more precise.

I have had some of the more joyous times there in the late 80s, one period that I have been increasingly craving to get back into. The trees, the curvy bungalows, the Kondareddy Street, the Fresh Chain, the central park, Annapurna Stores, St.Ann's ISC, St.Ann's SSC, St.John's, the Judges' Quarters, Basant Sahney, and the works.

My sisters have studied there. I have studied there partly and the place even extended into Picket, my alma mater for 10 long long years. Can I ever forget the days we have passed by those roads flashing our K.V. Picket straps, flaps, badges and what not with a certain swagger!

I have shared some fabulous moments with Karthik, Javed, Nataraj, Meenakshi, Alok, Susan aunty, Mrs.Bhaskar Rao, Vyjayant, Raghu, Parthasarathy, Chaitanya, Bhanu, and not to forget Gopi. The fact that my cousins, six of them in all, lived there albeit in different pockets, and over different time points made it all the more memorable.

Certain things saddened me. Appa couldnt recognise and acknowledge the very place that our relatives were put up at. I don't blame him. The symbols of modernity, the Homes and the Carriers & BlueStars have replaced the old nuggets. The old pots of joy razed into distant past only to make way for the posher beasts.

Kotwal houses some NIIT franchisee!!! SACRILEGE.

I am not naive and shall reconcile to the fact that I would never be able to get back to those times nor expect them again. That's the best part about it. I know I am supposed to move on and I will.

Karthik's old style two floored beauty, the music college around the corner along with Co-Optex showroom stood silently much akin to a few old men amidst a bunch of rude ball dribbling youngsters trying to move ahead with their heads held high up, seeking dignity and much deserved respect.

That was the only consolation I could carry home.

I hope I was utterly and I mean it, utterly wrong about the title.

I still love West Marredpally.

WILL SMITH?

I dont care...

Will Smith's interview in the Reader's Digest made for such a refreshing read... The man seemed to bare his heart out in those replies. Very endearing!

It did seem he was low on the Mystique Quotient that the Hollywood gurus and the celebrities in general are usually high on.

Nice couple and a very likeable son, all make for a nice picture.

He has come such a long way from being a part of those tellywonders to the megabudget mainstream lollypops like Independence Day, i-Robot, more academy friendly Ali...

...The Pursuit of Happyness was one of the nicer beauties that came out of idea starved Hollyland in recent times. I was happy. The fact that he was on board as the Executive Producer showed his conviction while he played Christopher Gardner.

Very inspiring, and Indian colleges would do well if they could have it on their screening menu compared to the other melodramatic fare.

I hope Smith's charisma doesnt wane because usually he is pure joy to watch.

As for the question to do with the Oscars,

I don't care...

PATHETICALLY PEDESTRIAN...

Why is it that we expect only motorists, and the ilk to follow the rules of the traffic to the tee?

While it may seem logical and natural of us to do so I believe it's imperative on the part of the ones on the land also to maintain some decorum and decency on roads.


What gets my goat and that too at an alarming frequency is the fact that the elder members of the fairer sex are the main culprits here. I don't mean to sound sexist, but unfortunately my observation has been ratified time and again. Shouldn't the elders in general be setting an example for the younger lot?

Is it too much to expect them to follow the road conveniences, meant for them, atleast at places where they are available?!

nun the less

Why does god have to send those pristine grey angels as my co-passengers on trains all the time in the rare instances of I getting a confirmed seating?

azharbhaijaan

wonder where he is!

my childhood superhero.

lazy bones, class and grace par excellence

wonder where he is!


I hope it's all khairiyat...

Kitsch Kitsch Hota Hai...

Shaad Ali's "Jhoom Barabar Jhoom" and McCann-Erickson's Happydent TVC for Perfetti, I think have taken "in-your-face" publicity and propaganda to new levels...

Unapologetic to say the least...

PS: Vineel Matthew of Footcandles impresses with his work for Reliance Communications; diverse, straight to the point, and effective with no nonsense.

my barber makes the cut

I don't have to look beyond my barber for a good movie critic. The Khaled Mohammeds, Deepa Gahlots, Rajeev Masands of the other world, well, seem to be from the other world.

"movie katthi saab"

"100 days compulsorry"

"first half full comedy, second half light"

"ek baar dekh sakhthe"

"aise film kaun dekhtha aaj kal... director bana leke khud dekh lena apne preview theatre mein"

"first song mast hai... baaki sunte sunte achha lag saktha"

"rahman story finish, ek kabki Roja hit diya... aaj kal dera kya Roja jaisa music... Himesh ko dekho, ek ke baad ek, ek ke baad ek"

My barber seems to voice the opinion of many, rendering whatever I opine immaterial.

Well going by his track record, my barber seems to make the cut.

Perhaps he was an editor in his past life.

...he seems to make a fine cut

my barber makes the cut

"I just came in for a trim, you can't charge me the usual fare"

"But sir, when you come in with birds' nests, I don't charge you more either!"


mouth shut...

exit door...

whatmore do we want?

sooner or later, he shall come


he shall revitalise and infuse the lost vigor in the boys

he shall change everything

he shall bend some very strong backs

saurav, sachin, dravid, sehwag shall be their servile best and surprise themselves big time

the young brigade shall never look so happy


and all will be fine with Indian cricket


amen!

Jai Sreeram!

I have waited and waited and he arrives. What better a vehicle than Balki's "Cheeni Kum". The more he hides, the more I crave him.

By entrusting the job to his assistants, I hope he doesn't disappoint me.


Is all this rubbing of hands in glee a bit prematured and should I be reserving all this for the
Bobby Bedi-Ismat Chugtai-Aamir Khan-A.R.Rahman-Maniratnam-P C Sreeram offering?


Lajjo '08


:-) :-) :-)

an i for an I

The Times of India has taken a bold step in dropping the first person singular pronoun "I", possibly heralding the end of one of the primary and the most unique rules of English grammar any kid would have been exposed to.

I realise it will be long before people will have warmed to this lowercase transition, and the purists will look askance at the ones who would follow the rule in its new avatar , atleast for sometime.

but if there were a vote,I wouldn't give it an aye...

WORLD WIDE WEB

indeed!

one parallel I could draw from my other recent viewing of the animated Hanuman is that one knows the end result, one knows the consequence, one knows the ways, yet for all the sheer pleasure of watching the superheroes go through their share of predicaments one goes for it.

Almost always there is an automatic justification for the voluntary suspension of disbelief, and instead of questioning the materials and methods, one just submits oneself to the process and enjoys the ride.

When was the last time one saw a superhero going about his stuff with an aide, and I shouldn't be blamed if I were to draw a parallel from Hanuman yet again! You pardon the cry babies, you pardon the put ons, you pardon the too good to be coincidences, you forgive the tiny slivers of melodrama, when you realise it's worth every penny you spent on.

You are certain that such fare would be loaded with juicy one liners and you are almost sure at the end of it there are going to be those quasi-philosophical quotes, good on ears nevertheless.

You root for this superhero, you wish he won battling all odds, you forgive his efforts to be more human, more like you and me and then you realise why he is such material, blockbusters are made of,

and then you realise why he is a

SPIDERMAN

jaunty roads

ha!

malleswaram 18th cross

malleswaram 15th cross

kumarapark west

seshadripuram

koramangala-indiranagar-domlur inner ring road

jayanagar 3rd block

jayanagar 2nd block

jayanagar 1st block

jayanagar ashoka pillar road

jayanagar madhavan park

j p nagar- sanjay gandhi perpendicular

okalipuram - Dr.Rajkumar Road

west of chord road

IISc-Hebbal

West of Chord Road - Mahalakshmipuram Layout

St.Mark's- old british library-anil kumble circle

NIMHANS-dairy circle-Accenture India



ha! ha!

east marredpally-S.P.Road-begumpet

kondareddy street-marredpally west

sangeet-St.Ann's-Basera-Gangaram's

British Library-Hussain Sagar-Viceroy

durgabhai deshmukh-osmania university-CIEFL-NIN

RAJIV PHENOMENON

recalled "Tu Hi Re" ('94 / '95 Bombay) early this morning and I wish I could take more such rides when life seems a little idyllic than usual...

felt nice just reliving the entire experience... The stars in front of the lens, the ones behind it Mehboob, Rahman, all contributed to a gem of a track that seemed to me one of the more difficult compositions of the then period... shall remain for long... Bekal fort of Kerala, as I am told it was, just elevated the effect.

and of course the one man for taking it to an altogether different level. maniratnam should be grateful to him...

PAPA RAZI!

Shall remember this period... nice one and how I wish that famed Italian breed followed me too!!!


I don't know if 2007 proves to be an annus mirabilis for me, and only time will tell...

random...

Why was Michael Douglas so smug with himself?
He has left no Stone unturned in his career!!!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was about to board the bus, just then a big fat lady with bigger fatter multihued feathered beasts alighted the same.

Just as I got in, my eyes fell on the transport corporation's message "bus occupancy penchandi" (make efforts to increase the bus occupancy)

Didnt know the kind lady would take the plea so seriously and literally.

Two Much

I do not know how steadfast I will be, but I want to test myself.

If ever I have kids, and I take to kids like a fish does to water, they will be named

Arjun and Meera.

and they shall take their mom's surname!

As much as I love kids and forget myself when with them, I dread the thought of bringing them onto this planet and not being able to live upto their expectations... It scares me no end.


But if I did, I hope Arjun and Meera stand me...

Laughter Champions

Sashi, Lakshmi, Amulya, Sudha, Prabhakar, Naveen HIV, Neelima, Nisha Narayan, Anant Gupta, Chirag, Usha, Sandy TY, Silpi, Amma, Appa, Amma, Appa, Vasu, Ramesh, Kris, Anil, Uday, Satyaki, Rama, Sahiti, Madhu Shankar, Kranti, Fayaz, Sreedevi GSR, Ajay TSP, Gokul, Ashwin, Sandeep Botla, Aditya Saxena, Rekha and Manik and Sudhir...

Whatever little I know of these people and whatever I claim to have known in whatever quantum of time and space I have shared with these people, one thing is clear... Of all things, they laugh their hearts out and that's no mean feat I must admit. Not everyone is blessed with the best of the times always and yet these people manage to laugh their internal viscera out and boy, is it encouraging! While it is one thing to share those few laughs while things are smooth, it's altogether a different matter when they do it when the chips are down.

I reckon it comes from their sheer positive attitude and a good general outlook, a healthy outlook. It wouldn't be out of place to quote a famous Telugu scriptwriter... "Navvadam oka varam, navvaleka povadam oka rogam"... In simple words it means, it's a boon to be able to share a guffaw, and it's the opposite otherwise...

Ha ha... God bless these souls, and let their pleasant and eye pleasing acts not die down. It's remarkable on their part what with so much negativity and ill will around and they are truly blessed... None feels belittled when these guys laugh and their laughter exercise is inclusive and no party is harmed.

It's not easy.

Personally to indulge in the merry making wholeheartedly is nothing short of a catharsis for me..

Anywhere, anytime

Let the laughathon continue...

appa and aatreya

This was imminent and it had to happen. Aatreya has relocated and this has left in a void in appa's life so much so that an otherwise quite appa has come to acknowledge Aatreya's absence. Appa has always been patient with kids whether his or otherwise. He has had never differentiated babies on the basis of sex and coming from a man who hailed from the generation that he did, that's quite remarkable. He could take to kids of all forms and whose tales of crankiness came in all fonts. He has been a man with loads of patience and thats inspiring. He has been an amusing tale master, a perfect raconteur one could say.

I dont know if in years to come Aatreya would acknowledge this man who has put in everything to bring this kid up along with his kid-sister in his own inimitable way, and in a manner that is truly inspiring. May be appa would be forgotten in times to come, and will be remembered as an old man who was once kind. One thing I know for sure is appa would be there till he can for all these kids, and Aatreya moreso.

Probably he saw me in Aatreya.

I would never know...

WATER

It was by a sheer stroke of luck that I could lay my hands on Deepa Mehta's Water late this evening. I admit Water was not on my must-watch list atleast for sometime to come what with its never ending saga of postponements atleast in India. I have followed its travails to hit the silverscreen right since it was supposed to be made in and around the early 2000s; 2000 in fact.

Doff my hats to Deepa Mehta for not losing it in this period. Also credit to her long term aide David Hamilton for not letting it get confined to the cans and gather dust. From the frame one to the last Deepa slowly but surely takes us back in time, to 1938, to be precise and paints the saga of Chuiya, Kalyani, Madhumati and Narayan on such beautiful canvas with right brushes and an ethereal palette, that one is left wondering, how!! Sarala with her innocent yet masterly looks blows one away with such genuineness in her potrayal of Chuiya that other performances by child artistes in recent times look farcical. Lisa Ray surprises and I will leave it at that. She puts in a restrained performance and I shall well stop at that for I somehow cant take to actors who cant dub their voices. John Abraham again proves that he is a raw piece of clay ready to be moulded by the director the way he/she wants to. My feeling is that here is an honest man who knows his limitations as a performer and respecting that very well he pitches in a performance within the boundaries of the comfort zone he shall not come out of. Brilliant. His voice is such a soother that I will not be surprised if he is roped in for more suthradhars or voice overs. Rich.

Seema Biswas, Raghuvir Yadav, Cerson Da Cunha, Vinay Pathak, Manorma show it's so pejorative calling them character actors for without them the movie would look a tad incomplete. Seema Biswas in her silent and subdued role conveys what sound-barrier breaking harangue cannot do. Thanks to Shekhar Kapur for discovering her. Good such people aren't offered more stuff because their absence only makes me crave them more. Ditto for Vinay Pathak. He proves a small theory of mine that actors who are good at comedy can do great justice to all other emotions and can leave one spellbound. Manorma with her potrayal makes you hate Madhumati and you only end up hating her.

For all those cineastes who believe that cinema is primarily a visual medium and all follow, this is a spectacle. I have always been in awe of Giles Nuttgens right since his Fire days, and he shows that the Director of Photography needs to be close to, if not, the alter ego of the director. Deepa Mehta sticking to him for years now only ratifies that. Never before has a film looked so heavenly in natural light. For those who believe that monsoons heighten the visual effect, Water shows that sunlight if utilised properly, can match up too. By restricting themselves to stable trolly movements and by not resorting to any camera callisthenics, Giles Nuttgens and Deepa Mehta do us a favor. The focus is more on the lighting to aid the storytelling than kinetics that would distract us. Good cinema is also about that. Aspiring filmmakers would do well to watch the film for this is a textbook in cinematography at its best, if not the Bible. They would also do themselves a great service if they learn that visual chicanery is all crap if it doesnt elevate story.

A R Rahman doesnt hold our hand and take us his way with his background score, and if he did, that's manipulative for me. Good cinema is also about that. His soft, melancholic score is worth listening to.

Deepa Mehta shouldnot feel disheartened if the Academy does not look her way. She has produced such a marvel that awards dont count at all and it's as simple as that. Thanks to her for not going overboard with the period look for the sake of verisimilitude. The best and the most heartening part is this story can unfold in any era or any time and the pre-independence period feel and the look is only incidental. Her effort is commendable for she trusts rank newcomers to convey her story in this project. Though I hate doing this, I still can't resist wondering about the effect if the people who were originally touted to play the roles, Shabana Azmi and Nandita Das stayed aboard the project. Well thats in the hindsight and should be left at that. Rumors were rife way back in 2000 that Akshay Kumar was supposed to play Abraham's part and for some reason he backed out. Thank you Akshay.

Canada's envy, tch... India's loss

Unlike water which vanishes upon the slightest occurrence of heat, this eponymous wonder stays on and quite ironically, in the slow fire that Deepa Mehta fans all along.

You turn hydrophilic at the end of it. Cinematic Excellence at its best.

DOR DARSHAN

Nagesh Kukunoor, take a bow...

Firstly, thanks for those lines of Hrishikesh Mukherjee in the beginning

"Zindagi badi honi chahiye.... Lambi nahi"

You have yet again shown that to make good cinema one doesnt have to resort to extremes, and go radical. That at times the act of combining common sense with the established does take you places, letting you live your dream, whatever that dream be.

Your Dor, at the outset, was not real. I shall make no bones about it, the theme is not real. For all those who harp on realistic cinema and the goodness in it, your creation might be a shocker. What then sets apart your cinema is the execution and treatment. What is real is the treatment and the handling. The tale that you have woven is pure fantasy, and you have effectively shown that fantasies can be lapped up if the only the way you go about is convincing.

The effort that you have put in expanding your cinematic spectrum is laudable and the result is there for me to see. In all the glory and glam of Dor, I shall not forget your utterly delicious VHS-friendly Hyderabad Blues.

I know what it takes and how it feels to make the audience chortle by feeding them subtle naunces in an extremely appetising fare. Those moments of poignance, those shades of love, those outbursts of joy no matter how naive, those vents to the inner long suppressed feelings shall stay for long.

In Ayesha Takia and Gul Panag you have found two of the more fabulously eye pleasing and natural actors of recent times. Going by Ayesha's choice of films in the past, mea culpa, I have been a little uncharitable about the histrionics capability of this petite beauty. She proves me wrong. I havent seen an actor who has displayed such a gamut of emotions in a single film in a long long time. Kindly do not shed a tear if she doesnt get to lay her hands on the "Black Beauty," for they are reserved for our ladies who are bold with their infidel thoughts, and who are cash counter friendly. The amazon-beating smile on her face in the railway station when she gets to hand over the signed mercy petition to Zeenat is marvellous and I cant describe that effect enough.

Gul Panag was class apart; typified a bold, confident woman torn inside by her own insecurities and desires. That she was eye candy in a matte way enhanced the effect. She oozes that class wherein she doesnt have to thump her breast to declare her feminity or desire for respect.

You along with Sudeep Chatterjee are forgiven for getting overzealous in your attempt to be bombastic in your visual grammar. Yes the subject lent itself to some great frames which demanded some effective lighting to highlight those subtle moments and this delivered what a hundred words couldn't. The geographical demands in Himachal Pradesh and Rajasthan may have warranted some great visuals, and thanks for not going overboard.

Thank you for not giving Rajasthan a cottage industry look set in Film City Mumbai, or Ramoji Rao Hyderabad. I know Rajasthan with all its dryness, barren landscape and scorching sun doesnt have anything more to offer than has been beaten to death by your ancestors. It can be stiffling at times when it come to Rajasthan. Thanks for enduring so much pain in your realistic and commendable effort.

Thank you for not resorting to some farcical cliches when it came to depicting Jodhpur where most of the story unfolds. Thank you for employing a few classy cliches when required. Thanks for showing yet again that cinema, for all the realism required, cant do without some cliches.

Thank you for getting the basics right. Thank you for your honest approach.

The movie as I said was full of drama and by reining yourself at the right time, you didnt let it slip into melodrama, and in it Mr.Kukunoor, lies your success. It is this precisely this balance of yours that makes you one of those marvellous little magicians around. Thank you for dishing out such fantastic fare so pregnant with rich symbolisms, and for not insulting our intelligence.

Kudos to you and Elahe Hiptoola for constantly churning out good cinema, and I hope we dont get to see something from you that we end up getting SIC of.

and finally, thank you for Shreyas Talpade. Holy Christ! he in a magical way endears himself with nothing but sheer rawness and simplicity. My experience would have been nothing without his element to Dor. Yes I know the movie is about Meera and Zeenat, and their quest for their lost love, but pardon me if I have to select one clincher of a scene in the entire movie, it will be the bahroopiya masquerading as the police wallah. The expression on his face when he shoos away the eve teasers is worth watching, and all this is made great by the fact we know he is a rascal and truly I was left in splits. He brings in those light moments which has him cheating people and us, making merry all the time, sombre most of the time in this otherwise story of grace, dignity and selfrespect of woman.

You make him speak out and how!

There is something about his performance in the film, and I shouldnt try rationalising it.

It's beyond that.

B or not to B

I have my own reservations about Amitabh Bachchan running for the post of the highest and the most majestic seat of the Republic of India... The President


This is not to insult AB and his body of work which has been amazing so far, but in a race where there is room for "relative", Mr.Bachchan please back off. and by no means do I intend to disparage the field he comes from, as is the usual temptation.

I might be jumping the gun and for all you and I know he himself wouldn't have given a serious thought to this.

If diplomatic skills, vast experience at the international level mean anything and are deemed prerequisites for the post, then my candidate is Shashi Tharoor

I am sure the fact that Shashi Tharoor was a contender for the post of the UN secretary general and that he waxes eloquent about a multitude of topics should do him no bad.

Good Friday

Pavan Malhotra...Aditya Srivastava...Hussain Zaidi...Bombay... 1993... News Today... India Today... Sync sound... hidden cameras... Mid Day... dingy bylanes of Bombay... Vijay "Dawood Ibrahim" Maurya... Anurag Kashyap, the writer...



Blue filters... Stock Exchange, Air India blasts... no-holds-barred dialogue... the chapter format... real video footage... Anurag Kashyap, the Director...


Indian Ocean...


Nataraja Subramaniam...Kay Kay Menon...



and the Yeda Yakub Steadycam chase on the pipeline











all the gore, and the grit... gut churning factual orgy finally lead to a day that ultimately proved to be a Good Friday for me, personally.

VISHAL & BARDWAJ

Okay, that typo and a desperate pun notwithstanding which will have the showman squirm no end, I declare my love yet again for this wonder.
Where the hell was he all this while? Why did it have to be a 2001/2002 for him to bloom on 70mm?
What does he have for his breakfast that the bollywood kitchens seem to be out of stock of ?

He is the one I am going to watch out for for the next 10-15 years, and I am sure each of his nuggets shall slowly but surely finds its way to my DVD collection.

What a man!

Will he along with Farhan Akhtar, Ashutosh Gowariker, Anurag Kashyap, Rajkumar Hirani, Nagesh Kukunoor, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra form the cream that has honest cinematic blood flowing in its arteries? and to digress a little, why the hell cant I have more of one Mr.Vidhu Vinod Chopra? No one should have any problems if these guys are too happy counting their green bills and in the process have our movie watching sensibilities twisted and tweaked. It would be a pleasure being aboard their vehicles leading us into the worlds of disbelief and pure joy.

Has it meant the show is all over for the pretentious scums who seem to have infested the cinematic space robbing us of the pure magic that cinema was all and should be about?

Oye! BC

This one's no advertisement for Sehwag, only a exercise in wonder yet again, as to how champions perform when they have people and quite ironically their own fans breathing down their neck, and breathing fire.

What do you do? What does one do ? How different will he be this time around when the neck is upon the altar? Its tempting to say that it's all in the mind. Well it could be, but is that all? Will the paddle sweeps change, or will the intensity of that slash cut get diluted in the process of appeasement?

Again quite ironically you would be playing to the same galleries that were agog a while ago, and now they are gunning for you. Where were those wagging tongues when you gave them joy no matter how flawed the execution was, or gave them their paisa vasool and in the process shredding conventional manuals to pieces? How do you answer? How does one answer? For the junta, sadly it's the results that counts and one has to live with it.

This is not about a certain Sehwag or a certain Tendulkar at all. If one looks closer, it could conveniently and with no guilt be extended to a whole lot of people we come across whose crime is that in their success they have given people hope and raised a few expectations.

It doesnt matter what you want. It doesnt matter what you do. It doesnt matter what you go through. It doesnt matter by what margin you lose. In the end it's the result.

While this freaky chakra of expectations and realisations continues, here's an imaginary quote from Sehwag, when a scribe poses a query regarding his "approach". This one's a little tangential.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Times Now: "Viru, what have you got up your sleeve this time around? Now that you have been bestowed another chance to cement your position in the team, what is your strategy? You must be worried."

Viru: Up my sleeve tho maine phir se slash cut maarni hai. Yeh psychology and sports management principles kuch nahi hota.. sab BC bakwaas hai... mujhe tho bas field par jaana hai, gendh dekhni hai, aur bas thokna hai... Maine nahi badalna... BC, yeh sab bakwaas hai... Worried aur main? arrey koi nahi yaar... Bas lassi peeni hai, kheer khaani hai, do chaar paraanthe aur achaar ke saath, makkan maarke aur bas... BC, is baar tho bas ch**na hai. Dally (Delhi; rhymes with tally, pally) ke liye hameshaa aise karta aaya hoon aur BC, aisa hi karna hai maine.

Run of Hutch

I wonder at times if people's best piece of work can become their biggest albatross, a yardstick so difficult to match up to that you are left in despair. True, you have upped the ante and done well at that, but if you dont "better" it no matter how conscious you are not to get typecast and repeat it, be ready to face the sword.

Rahman's "best" piece of work will always be his first pan-india film, Roja and all the work that has come after is "not upto the mark"... Live with it Allah Rakha...

I could go on and on... what I had intended to start this piece with was a comment on the Hutch pug campaign. For all its marvellous work, Hutch has always steered clear of pugs after that Goa TVC which had Prakash Varma and Danny Pope in an awesome form. The visual imagery and the haunting track would linger for long. A cult you could call. Steadycam has never looked so good on an ad. Slow and sauntering. What I have realised that it has set a benchmark for all the ads made in India. Pepsodent, Ariel, Chocoliebe(Perfetti) commercials just being some examples and I could easily quote some more if not for my poor memory that fails me at the right time.

Now every tom, dick and harish worth his namak on the tellytube wants Digital Intermediate for his ads and rarely are there any ads that aren't touched up. Blame Hutch for that! Post Production studio chaps all happily running away to the banks.

Strangely even Hutch seems to have realised that Pug comm its USP atleast when it comes to grabbing eyeballs and reverted to the theme albeit in different formats. All the slick quick edit campaigns with Delhi marathon with amazing photo mosaics and good voice overs in Raghuveer Yadav and earthy yet classy Irrfan "chota recharge" Khan seem to be pheeka now. So much for creativity and being unformulaic.

So till the next god in the ad world wakes from his slumber, we shall happily chant

"You and I in this beautiful world...
Green grass Blue skies...

You and I......."

Bangalore Saddamned

It pains me to no extent to see the ever gullible youth being misled into thinking and doing something that is projected as divine and pro religion. Yesterday's violence in some sensitive pockets of Bangalore a case in this point. While it is one thing fighting for ideologies no matter how unreal and impractical it might seem to the cynical world, it's all together a different thing to watch hooligans do something which they should be ashamed of.

I was witness to the sight of some YLTs (Young Little Things) bundled into vans and buses all holding placards "supporting" Saddam; all this made worse by the fact that these young dudes were howling at passers by and sporting dirty smiles on their faces. So much for ideology!

My heart also reaches out for those innocent souls who could have or would have fallen prey, resources included, to the nonsensical and absolutely irresponsible hooliganism of the fanatic bastards.


These bastards dont deserve to be alive...

Respect for individual and life has no meaning in India, tch, so said my BIL.

So true.

Shiv Seniks no matter how fundamentalist they appear, should be allowed to take over, so has always said my appa. I opposed him for long.

I was silly.

BIG BROTHEL

grapevine has it that Miss Shetty pockets anything close to GBP 150000 for all the ordeal that she endures in the UK now...


holy christ! for that amount I would take racism or anything of any kind anywhere...



Psst: Miss Shetty denies the racism charge when the reports came in last.

Well Urned

I realise it's a tad late but I might as well do it... Chronicle it for I want to look back at it years from now, and feel good about the fact I was there as it unfurled in front of me... Also the fact that there have very been very few moments in the history that I can claim to have been a witness of...so this one's special

Yes!!! I was there when this bunch of stars which includes my all time favourite spin doctor boxed the English men out of the kangaroo land by hitting where it mattered the most... Down Under


Even the staunchest of Barmy Army dudes would agree...