tathasthu!

I haven't cried so much ever. Shedding not a drop of tear.

qu'n faya qu'n

godspeed rahman, on this journey of love.

of Telugu songs and their singers

I am no expert in the technicalities of music. I am your average listener with average tastes.

Now that I have this out of my way, I have the right to say the following. Pretty redundant, I admit.


Telugu, of an unmatched sonic beauty, is very very sweet. If Saraswati had to speak, she'd choose Telugu. I would have said this even if I were not a native speaker of this divine language. There is some kind of divine niceness and purity to this language. At least phonetically. I use divine very carefully. I like the sound of nice and elegant Tamizh, nice and simple Malayalam, simple and un-harsh Marathi (the kind spoken by Shankar Mahadevan, Sachin Tendulkar and Harsha Bhogle). The enormous love for Hindi is beyond words.

But Telugu is on a totally different level altogether. A totally different level.

So there is no need on the part of singers in Telugu to add extra layers of sweetness to it. The kind of overcooking that borders at times on, dare I say, maudlin, and dare I say, coy. Plain irritating. The language takes care of itself pretty well there.

If I have to find a visual, photographic equivalent, I'd say what we are served with is gloss when all our heart craves and desires is pure matte.

While it is different to extend the scope of the song within the musical parameters as defined by the creator, it's totally different to add non-existent touches to it. One should have a feel for it. Either one knows it, or not. Most of the singers are guilty of it. Male singers are more guilty of it. Do they overcompensate for their supposed manliness and add an unnecessary sweetness to the songs?

Telugu also lends itself to expressions and dynamics one cannot imagine. But a random sampling of the songs over the last twenty years or so, reveals that we have stuck to mundane expressions, and mundane lyrics. When you throw this accusation, you are shown creations that feature great lyrics that only boast of some harsh sounding words of a more reference textbook variety.

We lack the ease of a Javed Akhtar, a Gulzar, or a more recent Prasoon Joshi, Jaideep Sahni. Notice I haven't used "contemporary" for Prasoon Joshi or Jaideep Sahni. Gulzar and Javed Akhtar are as contemporary and modern as anyone out there. Their remarkable felicity in weaving everyday words into poignant expressions so pregnant with meaning is unparalleled. Do you have to have a lexicon by your side to understand their writing? No!

"...baaho'n ke haar jo daale koi kaanha ke gale,
Radha kaise na jale?!"

"...kya karei'n zindagi isko hum jo mile
iski jaan khaa gaye raat din ke gile..."

When was the last time I heard such simple, elegant lines in my tongue?

Why is it that we who are blessed with a God's language do not do enough service? Will Veturi and Sirivennela be the last that we will ever revere? Why don't we ever foster newer thought, and if security (in all forms) is all we seek, an elegant twist to the cliched?



I think it's in our culture, it gets dirty there and that forms the basis for another post.

quite naturally

Every time I am confused in life, I ask myself. At least of late.

Should I take man's way, as are we expected to naturally?

Should I ignore it altogether, and respect nature's way?

Nature's way is my ultimate compass in life, and it supersedes man's way. I'm trying real hard to get there. This will only help me maintain my sanity, and move along. It is painstakingly difficult, and I acknowledge that.

The more order we've tried to create to help ourselves, we've only introduced chaos in the process. When I am in the middle of all the mess created by man's various institutions, I look for an escape. I look to nature. If all's fine on that front, all's well in my life.

Owing to democratic thought, and subjectivity, there cannot be one guiding principle in our lives from man's way standpoint. Most of the times, that is nice. But in nature's way, there's no room for interpretation. No suiting to our tastes, no hypocritical twisting to our conveniences. There's only one truth. Almost dictatorial, and autocratic. It makes perfect sense to me.


I have erred and could very well err on man's way. I am not as scared as I'll be when I goof up on nature's order.

I will be fooling myself if I claim to be working on striking a balance. The scale tilts, and it's quite obvious.


I am in no way belittling man's way for what man has done over thousands of years is overwhelming beyond compare. But it's overwhelming only in face of the opposition or traction offered by nature. Nature has time and again shown us how to shut the fuck up. We would do really well to respect that, and adjust our priorities.

The English Channel

chuck the false bells, out the used straws
sooner or later, comes a leveling loss.

stock up on *spirit*, holy, and otherwise
when he cuts and slashes, you'll be looking to the skies.

milk the udrs, point the hawk eye, lay any trap
don't bother, don't be bemused, his bat cuts all crap.

brace yourselves, pommies, and the rest go agog,
coming soon to edgbaston, virender sehwag.


The Pataudi Trophy . England vs. India . Birmingham . Aug 10 - 14 . 2011

my barber makes the cut

I have a history with barbers. Documented less, but I do. Here and here.

• A trim never, ever remains a trim. It finds its way into a full-fledged cut organically. But it does. You shall never exit the door within five minutes of your entry.

• They like to talk, and how!
  

• Barbers, I repeat, are the best movie critics, social commentators.

• This follows the above. My barber from Hyderabad may not speak the same language my American fellow does. But they both stand for the same ethos. All of them are so ably in touch with the societal pulse. Their knowledge of what's in, what's out, what's OK, and what's not is not just limited to their line of work but so remarkably extends to very many other facets of our daily lives.
  

the return of the pun'gent

Propensity to relieve oneself, over and over,



Pee r pressure ?

train of thought

This is one of those unscientific child-posts. Beware!

I love this song. I simply love this song. I have acknowledged my awe time and again. I feel this is a lesson in visual language with an appropriate (beautiful) grammar to go with.

Framing, composition, energy, casting, choice of location, colors, coordinates and perspectives.

But there's a period in this song the start of which has always left me smiling. Always! I never knew why. But I knew and I realized I smiled every time it started. I knew something different was happening. I couldn't my finger to it. I think I have a reason now.

Here's the actual edit in its original form.





The majority of the song has us follow the train. With Santosh Sivan and his team lodged on the train we see what they are seeing as we follow the train. Whether it is fast, is slow, whichever direction it is moving in.

Deciding to shoot on a moving train is a brave decision. There's only so much you could do in terms of space. No matter what you do, you are limited and run the risk of bringing in the devil of boredom. But you cannot help it, you have decided to shoot the song on a moving train. Live with it!

So, in come the distractions. In an effort to break the visual monotony, Sivan employs a lot of profile shots. But most of these shots have a stationary camera, a hinged camera following the train as it chugs along on a beautiful bridge.

But this edit I have made shows the team follow the train for the first time on a parallel track/road/space in an almost "V" shape. We move along the train in its direction. All the earlier motion is in a direction perpendicular to our field of vision. This for a change breaks the momentum. Most amazingly it also coincides with a change in the song.


Here it is in its altered form at 80% speed.



Sometimes the mundane become exciting with a change in perspective.

Visual choreography at its very best! :)

kuch bhi, haan?!

In the state capital of Andhra Pradesh how do you identify the children of gentlemen in the Indian Armed Forces?

* Their domestic grocery is all about Ratandeep Super Market, and aaloo aur tamatar.

* The limits of their geography tend to Trimulgherry, Bolaram, Vikrampuri, Alwal, Gunrock, and of course, Sainikpuri.

* The farthest they would have travelled to in their city: Secunderabad Railway Station, and in the past, and that too rarely, Begumpet Airport. Madapur? Wahaan jaane ke liye kaunsi train leni padthi hai?

* Music, celebration, festivities, fun and frolic do not remain music, celebration, festivities, fun and frolic if they don't happen in Secunderabad Club. RSI is for ballroom dances, you dimwit!

* Dilsukhngar, Barkatpura, Hussaini Alam, Yakutpura, Malakpet, Mir Alam Mandi, Barkas, Kukatpally; What are they, places in the neighboring Orissa?

* Alright, I exaggerated. As always. Their servants and domestic helps hailing from Telangana are aware of these places. People such as Sarita didi, who makes amazing aaloo gobi and Venkat anna /bhaiyya who gets their clothes ironed.

* If coming from other places, say up north, or back from a vacation, their destination is Secunderabad and not Hyderabad.

* The only train's name they are aware of is 2723. What are Narayanadhri, Venkatadhri, Godavari, Padmavathi, Repalle Passenger? Some rivers ?!

Of senses and sensibilities

Where are Anna Hazare and Poonam Pandey now? I mean, do they still blip on your mental radars? Don't you feel cheated by Poonam Pandey? I don't blame you. Why do I say blame? Because I already know the answer.

Most of us shamelessly hopped onto the circuses played out by the national and local media. While they moved onto the next visceral show and pound of meat, we are left in the lurch; shagging and peeing in a no man's land. All pun intended.

I still cannot understand how most of us form idols by observing people from a distance. We give them character and conduct certificates. It's fine if we know those "idols" in person. But no, we don't enjoy that privilege most of the times. We don't take their actions and performances for what they are. We like to go beyond. "Oh, he is such a great man!" "Oh, he is so humble!" "Oh, he is so generous."

We like to believe in the storytellers, not the stories.

When these "great souls" go on to live their lives the way they would have perfectly envisioned in their minds, we feel ditched. We feel cheated, and shortchanged. When the idol courtship ends, out of frustration we are left to masturbating in solitude.

Do not make judgments in life based on relayed perceptions. Trust yourself. If you stand vindicated, you are happy. If you are not, at least you don't get to blame others. That will only lead to more frustration.

Trust only what appeals to your senses. I feel only that is real. Opinions, judgments, analyses do change, and in hindsight may seem silly. But your real experience never cheats you. It's how it was meant to be taken. There is no thinking, mental calibration required. If you feel the need to do it, you are trying to align with the norm. You need not be a norm breaker. In any case, try being true to yourself. That is if you respect and love yourself.

Cherry pick in life and move on. Keep your senses open. Nothing is perfect. Perfection is a myth. Mix and match. Resist being weighed down by dogmas.

Storytellers can cheat you. Stories never will.

grief

To think that the families and relatives of all the victims would be rejoicing upon a single soul's passing away, however purportedly a mega zealot, is utterly juvenile and sad.

No I haven't experienced death ever. I have been fortunate to not have come close to it to celebrate a second life. My first life is way too precious to me to consider the importance of a second one.

But I think death of someone close, or in milder terms, the moving away of near and dear must be so overwhelming that one would have no inclination to allocate time and mental resources to avenge the crime. Forget it. It happens only in movies. There should be no consolations sought here; not the least, the killing of someone. Longing for the departed/victims is, must, should be the only overarching feeling.

To then suggest that they would hit the streets to vent out their joy at the sight of a slain soul would be insulting the love they would have had for their loved ones in the first place.

political anna'rchy

"... abe suppandi V-i-dh-ya nahi V-i-dy-a. V-i-dh-ya kya hota hai be?! Kitni baar?! Tum bhi naa..."

"... OK, listen! Vidhya..."

"...Ufff! haan sun! Vidya has gone to pick Aarav up from the play school. You batter be here soon. Raakhi nahi bandhwaani hai kya?..."

"... no dude, it's not like that, ..."

"... would you have shown the same spark of enthusiasm if it were some Selvarajan or a Sambamurthy?..."

"... tu kya kehne ki koshish kar raha hai?..."

"... no wonder films such as Rang De Basanti and A Wednesday become a rage with you guys. You need nothing to chew on; just instant noodles to feast upon, and funnily, that too pre-digested. You believe in instant justice. Pop justice."

"... abe rehne de. What have you "thinking" motherfuckers achieved in life? Bas behenchoth you guys drown yourselves in saaambur & curd rice and start armchair theorizing for anything and avrything. Kya ukhaadna hai tumhaare overanalysis ne? Koi faayda hai? Kisika kuch bhala hua hai?! .."

"... at least we don't jump into these fly-by-night made-in-Janakpuri operations. Here today, gone the day after tomorrow, makkhan maar ke ;)..."

"...abe haraami how skeptical can you get? Yahaan par ek aadmi apni jaan pe khel kar kuch karne ki koshish kar raha hai. You guys don't want to contribute only! I think your silence and doubts are just to rationalize all the crores and crores which you, your previous generations and your slimy politicians have stashed up. Aa jaate hain saale baat karne. Ghanta, haan ghanta..."

"...it's not like that dude. It's not that it didn't exist before this chap came up and it won't exist after he's gone. We need to think longterm. We guys just cannot afford to be myopic. It's dangerous, and we are giving false hope to people. With due respect..."

"... abe phir se vahi baat. Raspact ka kya humne achaar lagaana hai. Raspact, huh! Kab tak chup rahenge hum log. Koi to banda initiative le raha hai naa. Tum log na sirf baat karne ke liye paida hue ho. I seriously think years of conservative and play-safe approach has numbed you guys. Numbed every ounce of your bodies. All your senses... "

"... no dude, it's not like that, ..."

"... Ufff! haan sun! Vidya has gone to pick Aarav up from the play school. You batter be here soon. Raakhi nahi bandhwaani hai kya?..."

"... OK, listen! Vidhya..."

"... abe suppandi V-i-dh-ya nahi V-i-dy-a. V-i-dh-ya kya hota hai be?! Kitni baar?! Tum bhi naa..."

Happy New Year

When life gives you lemons, make yummy lemon rice.




Prosper!


Happy Ugadi

thalapathi redux

If you commit blasphemy, I say, commit it well.

Without actually casting against the grain (!), keeping both pure acting chops "and" box office commerce in mind

if you had to re-imagine Thalapathi (1991) without losing its essence, point, idea (obvious and not-so-obvious), and most importantly, try to recreate the onscreen magic (very very intangible), cast the following

Anushka Shetty Subbalakshmi

Srividya Kalyani

Siddharth Narayan Arjun

Prithviraj Sukumaran Devaraj

and

NTR Jr. Surya

minority report

My heart goes out to all those living on the fringes "within" a family/not a part of the mainstream - by choice, socially, economically, racially, culturally, habitually, sexually - who make an extra conscious effort to prove themselves instead of just letting it be. Despite being themselves unapologetically, those who harbor somewhere a little desire to prove a point to and be taken seriously by the dismissive, judgmental majority.

Sometimes not necessarily out of force but out of love for the close ones, and out of fear of losing them.

pun'gent rises again

How can an EOS capture everything so well?

"kyonki Canon ke haath lambe hote hain"

taare zameen par

Fuck slice-of-life, pretentious, layered, textured, loaded-with-subtext, real, abstract cinema.

Give me these larger-than-life cinematic moments when you couldn't dream of reaching the stars, when boundaries were strictly defined, when we yearned to touch them, when our aspirational levels were super high, when we cherished little successes after endlessly looking forward to them not taking anything for granted, when our grins travelled from ear to ear upon simple acquisitions.

When laying hands upon the tickets to these cinemas and literally smelling them meant the world to us.

Give me back my 1980s. If only I could trade in some of current inconsequential stuff for those moments.

Notice how, from 2.13 - 2.20, Balu takes us on a ride with his

...vasantaalu ennosthunna kokilamma kaburedi...

and is in his absolute element when he, from 2.27 - 2.34, goes

...naa yede tummedai sannidhe cheraga...

s.janaki . chiranjeevi . s.p.balasubrahmanyam . suhasini mani ratnam . ilaiyaraaja

truly,

stars on earth

external push

Sit inside a car. Try pushing it. You cannot. You are a part of the system.

Get out of the car. Now try pushing it. You can, albeit a little.

Is this why people living in far off lands feel they can bring about a change, however little, to their home lands?

Do they feel empowered by stepping out of the state?

judgmental errors

For the lemons it throws, if my life were a reality show, I wouldn't want Farah Khan, Sajid Khan and Anu Malik for judges.

I want to marry her

Allah!

Thayya Thayya

yak bondy . tejpal kaur . a.r.rahman . gulzar . farah khan . santosh sivan . shekhar kapur . ram gopal varma

This is such a well crafted reworking of an original that hasn't ceased to bring the child out in me.

Sound & Picture

Heck! nothing, not my awe, admiration, nothing has changed since August 1998.