The Writings of a Writer who's yet to Write

Moving On

2010-08-16T07:02:00.000-07:00

It's time to move on, folks. I'm switching to wordpress. Check this space for new updates:

arunachalamtalkies.wordpress.com

Thanks for following this space for as long as you did. I'll always appreciate your feedback and attention

Arun

Story contest

2010-03-15T14:04:00.000-07:00

I've entered a story at INDIMAG's contest. Contest fundaes here:

http://www.indimag.com/category/kathasagar/

My entry here:

http://www.indimag.com/2010/03/08/the-guest-of-honour/

Read it. Comment upon it, and if you're willing to login and get an INDIMAG account, vote for it.

The Horror of It All

2010-02-28T10:05:00.001-08:00

Watching "The Wolfman" a couple of weeks ago - a clear metaphor for the Engineering student's condition during Valentine's day - it occured to me that as far as I know, there's no Great Indian Horror Movie. I say Indian, to leave out the recent crop of multiplex-fodder that ripped of American movies, that in turn ripped off Chinese, Korean, Japanese, hell even Thai films. And I say great to leave out such Ramsay-grade fare as "Khooni Panja", "Purana Mandir" and "Jaani Dushman" (though its sequel/remake "Jaani Dushman: Ek Anokhi Kahani" is a horror film for other reasons). What horror film, now or before, has etched itself in our collective consciousness so as to come to mind immediately when the word is spoken?

This extends not only to horror, but also to genres in general. Indian cinema has produced great drama ('drama' being the collective term for artsy, literary-type stories by Shyam Benegal, Satyajit Ray and so forth), great romance (Anything made by Hrishikesh Mukherjee) and great action films (Sholay, RGV's Company, Satya and Shool). Yet speculative fiction (the concept of what if...) which gives way to horror, science fiction and the generally unknown, has never been explored, except for such vomitoriums as "Krrish", "Love Story 2050" and "Azhagiya Thamizh Magan" (check its "scifi" story here).

Correction. There are such films by Satyajit Ray as "Paras Patthar" and "Goopy Gain Bagher Bain" from his time, and three recent exceptions that plumbed into the depths of speculative fiction - "Darna Mana Hain", "Vaastu Shastra" and "Kaun". All three were RGV products and all three, despite various flaws, must be lauded. Few others have had RGV's balls in venturing into horror (although in recent times, balls seem to be all RGV has).

This is lamentable as a good horror story serves strongly to experience and thus come to terms with fear, whether of the fantastic - vampires, ghosts and aliens - or the real - psychos, criminals or even the horrors that jump out of everyday life. Which brings me to the first point of good horror fiction, which again most Indian films miss out on.

Relatable characters. Consider movies such as the first Nightmare on Elm Street, Jaws, The Terminator (not T2), Back to the Future, The Sixth Sense or even Strangers on a Train (a very effective horror film in its way). All involve every day people, and all begin with them going about their everyday lives. The whole point of the scary/weird things that follow, is that such things could happen to everyday people such as you or me. This is borne out best in Stephen King's stories, which involve people one can relate to immediately, even if they're American. What happens to them, and their response to it, becomes so relatable it is as possible in Mambalam as in Maine (where, btw, King bases most of his stories). This also establishes an important point of speculative fiction - it is not the strange event which matters, as much as people's response to it. This is best borne out for example in "The Twilight Zone", with various episodes dealing with seemingly monstrous actions that are ultimately revealed to be human, or in Back to the Future, where M. J. Fox's character, who is a normal (American) teenager, first fears he is stuck in the past for the rest of his days (imagine living your days out in the pre-Internet license-permit days) and must then worry about undoing his existence (because he is coming in between his (then young) Dad and Mom!!).

In contrast though, the characters from such speculative Indian films (with the exception of DMH, VS and best of all, Kaun) are anything but plausible regular characters. Take LS 2050 for example. The movie opens with the poor man's Hrithik Roshan, Harman Baweja crashing his dad's car and walking away. Never mind if you or I could do that, would any kid (albeit without MAJOR MAJOR issues) just walk away with a grin after trashing family property? How are we then supposed to relate to his losing his girlfriend (in a disturbingly hilarious scene), let alone his discovery of the futuristic world? Indeed, can you or I relate to someone so dense as to go fifty years into the future to find a reincarnated girlfriend, rather than 24 hours back to prevent her death? The same applies to Krrish, where we are supposed believe somebody who's been taken out of school and held in seclusion by his grandma will not grow into a Freudian wet dream, but a superhero who saves people simply to impress his girlfriend. Real characters have real responses - whether the event itself is real or not - that we can appreciate, and are the first need for any speculative fiction, and especially horror, to work.

The second point or purpose of speculative fiction is to provide a metaphor for the real world and make a point about it. Take for example "Rossum's Universal Robots". Never heard of it? Well, that's because it's a Czech play made in 1921. The play gave rise to the use of "robot" (based on a Czech word for labourer) and dealt with a world where robots are created and kept as replacable artificial workers in the worst conditions possible, only to eventually rise up against humans and form a civilization of their own. Interestingly, the Gilded Age had ended in the US, while the October Revolution had just occured in Russia. The point the play was making resonated one way or another with everyone, and thus did the word robot come about. This applies to all of the best horror/science fiction films in existence. Dracula tapped into the Victorian fear of STD's, infectious diseases and taboo sexuality. Frankenstein tapped into the same ideas as RUR (though earlier), of artificial life and the implications therein. "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" tapped into the fear of both Communism and McCarthyism. George Romero's zombie films are each recognized as allegories for specific topics of the era, from race relations to foreign invasions and social equality. And the Alien series, with the parasites that burst out of stomachs, breed out of control and look kind of phallic deals with everybody's fear of hoo-hoos or ha-has.

Which is why we need good Indian horror films. We in India have been plagued with enough ills over the years to come up with great metaphors. For example, our zombies: the crowds who protest at the drop of the hat, demonstrating peacefully by throwing stones over cartoons and paintings that hurt feelings. Our vampire: the babus who bite people on the neck and elsewhere, draining all but those with the capacity to become like them. Our werewolves: the Naxalites who appear out of nowhere at night, kill mercilessly and disappear to re-emerge during the day as civilians. Our chestburster Aliens: Wahabbi Islam, which parasitically attaches to people, only to explode out of them, sometimes blowing them up, often others. And our Blobs, giant hideous masses that absorb things and grow big enough to engulf States or nations: Mayawati and/or Jayalalitha.

Mummy-Daddy Mentality

2010-02-16T19:27:00.001-08:00

Amit Varma ripped IIMT a new one, with his post on this TOI article:

"Most young people may have got all romantic this Valentine’s Day, but for this technical institute it was all about brotherly and sisterly love. In what can probably be described as a celebration of V-Day in the spirit of Bhai Dooj, the Ishan Institute of Management and Technology asked its girl students to prepare food for the boys to mark the day.

The underlying motto, as institute chairman DK Garg told the media, was to promote “a culture of knowledge where brothers and sisters could stay together’’. Students said the institute, which believes in strict discipline, had warned them not to get ``carried away’’ on Valentine’s Day."

The article itself contains response from students suggesting it archaic, to say the least. But it is but one amongst thousands of initiatives taken by colleges to "set students on the right path", as though our Deans and Chancellors were the Moms and Dads we went to college to get away from.

This sort of hardcore monitoring is not news to people who have attended, for example Satyabhama College in Chennai - private colleges there are after all for the parents who really hate their children and wish to make sure of a repressed and hateful adolescence for them. The shameful thing is how it occurs even in higher end places. Take IIT G for instance. For everyone who was around till 2007, Rouble's was a popular hang out joint next to campus. It was not a CCD or Barista, simply a shack with 2 tables inside, where one could order tea, buy cigarettes and most importantly, pay later. Rouble bhai was a fraternal figure whom many IITG graduates will remember fondly.

And then sometime in 2007-08, the shop was shut down. Sure, it still operates, but Rouble's can no longer sell cigarettes to students. Also shut down was the mobile chai-sutta wagon within campus - no selling cigarettes to anyone. The Dean saw to both personally, and by some accounts (I'm a bit hazy on this as I wasn't around) personally threatened the owners with eviction should students be caught buying cigs. All this over and above the ban on smoking anywhere within campus, let alone one's hostel room. Bad habits have to be broken, and if the good Dean would not do something (like Boman Irani from Darna Mana Hain) how many future engineers would die of lung cancer?

Similarly, take this article on IIT B's net access. Officials choose to cut off net access at midnight, not because it was expensive, or because students were illegally downloading stuff en masse but because "high-speed internet access was impeding socialization". Just like Mom all those years ago, they were telling students "Go out and play no!!"

Colleges are called alma maters as well. But the people running should realize they aren't our parents. And even if they were... we're not fucking kids anymore.

If only they'd realize.

MIHYAP contest (Click to find out more)

2010-01-31T14:36:00.000-08:00

The GreatB is holding a contest in res his upcoming new book. The contest involves 10 favourite movie quotes, and tagging friends. The contest rules can be seen by clicking on this post's link, and the book is to be found here: http://greatbong.net/book.

So here's my list of favourite movie lines:

“I’ll be back” - The Terminator (1984)
“...Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that” - Casablanca (1942)
“There's this passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is The Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee." I been saying that shit for years. And if you heard it, that meant your ass. I never gave much thought to what it meant. I just thought it was some cold-blooded shit to say to a motherfucker 'fore I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think different. See, now I'm thinking, maybe it means you're the evil man, and I'm the righteous man, and Mr. 9 millimeter here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or, it could mean you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is, you're the weak, and I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd” - Pulp Fiction (1994)
“My father was a drinker... and a fiend. And one night, he comes home crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not.. one... bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and says, "why so serious?" He comes at me with the knife — "why so serious?" Sticks the blade in my mouth, — "let's put a smile on that face!"” - The Dark Knight (2008)
“And I promise you I'll never desert you again because after Salome we'll make another picture and another picture. You see, this is my life! It always will be! Nothing else! Just us, the cameras, and those wonderful people out there in the dark!” - Sunset Boulevard (1950)
“The man you just killed was just released from prison. He got caught at a company warehouse full of hot items. He could've fuckin' walked. All he had to do was say my dad's name, but he didn't; he kept his fucking mouth shut. And did his fuckin' time, and he did it like a man. He did four years for us. So, Mr. Orange, you're tellin' me this very good friend of mine, who did four years for my father, who in four years never made a deal, no matter what they dangled in front of him, you're telling me that now, that now this man is free, and we're making good on our commitment to him, he's just gonna decide, out of the fucking blue, to rip us off? Why don't you tell me what really happened?” - Reservoir Dogs (1992)
“You got leads. Mitch & Murray paid good money. Get their names to sell them. You can't close the leads you're given, you can't close shit, you are shit, hit the bricks pal, and beat it, 'cause you are going out” - Glengarry Glen Ross (1992)
“The point is, ladies and gentlemen, that greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms - greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge - has marked the upward surge of mankind, and greed - you mark my words - will not only save Teldar Paper but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA” - Wall Street (1987)
“I'd like to share a revelation I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species. I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with their surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to an area, and you multiply, and you multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You are a plague, and we … are the cure” - The Matrix (1999)
“For us, there is no spring. Just the wind that smells fresh before the storm” - Conan the Barbarian (1982)

I'm tagging lexicomaniac, acynic, greyscalp, the adlibber and pandora to do the same. Those tagged, please make lists of your own and also:
a. On your blog, provide a link to this page. (http://greatbong.net/book).
b. Come over to the comment-space of this post and post your blog’s link so it can be read.

A One Liner Noone Should Have Use For

2010-01-27T20:57:00.000-08:00

Dunno even why I thought of it but...

To the parent of a mentally handicapped boy/girl:

``I can really see where your son/daughter gets his/her brains from!!"

Movie Review: Avatar

2009-12-27T14:23:00.000-08:00

Avatar is Cameron's first film in 10 years, after the abysmal blockbuster "Titanic". The story was something he concieved first in 1994. So what's the result of 15 years of Cameron's genius added to enough money to bail out the US economy? Well, Avatar is a game changer, a movie that will change film making, and for this reason it deserves to be compared with epics like "Star Wars" and "Superman" and yes, "Titanic". Writing wise though, Cameron has hit a note far below the triumphs of his great action movies from the "Terminator" and "Aliens" days.

The concept centers around humans on a planet named Pandora, a gigantic wilderness. inhabited by giant pterosaurs, reptilian wild dogs and shovel-headed triceratops. The air on the planet is unbreathable by humans, but the planet carries huge deposits of 'unobtainium', which is worth a fortune for some reason. The mining colony on the planet is policed by Marines on hire, and all activities require gas masks. The people here are at a big disadvantage from Pandora's natives, the Na'vi, who can breathe the air and telepathically tame its various beasts, are 15 feet tall and super-agile and live on a gigantic tree. To facilitate negotiations and understanding (A euphemism for "get them off their land as there's a deposit on it"), a team of scientists figure out a way to project their consciousness remotely on Na'vi bodies genetically engineered for the process. These are the 'Avatars', of whom newcomer Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and Dr. Augutine (Sigourney Weaver) are of note. Sully volunteers for the process as he's a cripple in real life, and upon waking in his Avatar, finds himself mobile and in a rush. He then has himself an accident and gets lost in the forest and runs into the daughter of the Na'vi chief.

It took about half an hour to come up with the above summary, which speaks volumes about the detail and texture of this world Cameron created. From Avatar-Sully's meeting with the daughter (why a daughter and never a son?) though, the movie proceeds on a course easily visible to anyone who's ever watched a movie. She trains him in the ways of the Force.. sorry Eywha, they fall visibly (note the use of the word) in love, he tames a giant flying beast and eventually sympathises enough with the natives to defend them against the evil corporation and eviler mercenary Marine. They have them some amazing battles, and in the end, the evil Empire (the Merchant-Military one) is defeated and Sully transitions permanently into Avatar-Sully, setting the stage for a sequel.

The 3D thing that Cameron pulled off is amazing, as is the detail put to the world of Pandora. In that respect this movie is a milestone ushering in a new style of movie making, the way Superman ushered in special effects, Star Wars brought in space opera and Titanic opened up squealing teenage girls as a viable fanbase. It's also to Cameron's credit that despite all the flaws of the second half, one is riveted to the screen till the end credits roll. But on the count of stortelling, Cameron seems to distance his present work from his previous work of the 80's and 90's, wherein explosions and special effects were only the cherry on top to well-defined character sketches and a rock-solid story.

Verdict: A Must See, but could have been far better

What do I want as a Present?

2009-12-10T21:41:00.000-08:00

Well, another year's passed. Continuing in the trend of two years (I have you to thank for it, lexicomaniac) I post some thoughts for the porundha naal. My porundhanaal post's later than usual. I was too busy by day, and somewhat buzzed in the evening and so didn't start on it till past midnight.

The first thing that strikes me is of the wishers. There are three categories of wishers. There is family, who call you at 7.00 am (your time) and scream out "Happy Birthday", while you wonder which dream you've suddenly woken into. I appreciate it of course, but like anyone woken up a couple of hours early I need to get back to sleep.

Then there's onliners. People who send email or orkut scraps or facebook posts, with the occasional eelctronic card or such. Something I truly love, in that I open my inbox every half an hour and there's another message wishing me. Warm and caring and yet, fleeting and illusory, like it were.... well online.

The third is of close friends nearby. And they wish you, give you a hug, buy you a present and make you blow candles at midnight. This year, one of the people who does that went home on vacation and the other had the sort of work that takes away a week's sleep before getting sleep. And this was absent.

I felt this absence. It's petty to not think of other people's lives, but I want someone to think of me even if performing brain surgery in Uganda on this day. Someone who isn't blood. Someone who will not use Facebook, Orkut, Email or anything intangible. Someone whose presence would be all I need for the day. Someone whose birthday I can make by my presence.

Cue to:

One Year Later

2009-11-29T11:58:00.000-08:00

The Nov 26 anniversary carried all the accouterments of the "usual" sort of tragedy that happens in India. Some people held candle-lit vigils, some people released press statements and the news channels carried interviews, doubtless with such security experts as Simi Garewal and Shobha De or prominent Mumbai-residents such as Salman Rushdie or Suketu Mehta. The importance, or lack thereof is highlighted by the absence of the PM himself, who was out on diplomatic missions.

Did we really learn enough from Nov 26 to prevent a second attack? I don't think so, considering pieces like this one by Vir Sanghvi. We are as vulnerable and likely to lose our collective shit as we were last year. But here's the thing. Is there a choice?

Consider India without the specter of Islamic terrorism. Are things quiet and peaceful? Hell, are people safe? Not in the centre and east, with the threat of Maoist insurgency. Not in the North East, with that of regional insurgency. Not in Bombay, with the threat of Raj Thackeray carrying on his Hitler-loving uncle's work. Not in Bengal, with either Mamata or Buddha sending goons to enforce party diktat. Not in Gujarat, where being Muslim can get you killed. Not in UP, where not salaaming Maya Memsahib can get you killed. Not in Chennai, where the same would apply for the Kalaignar. And forget these regional threats (if you could). There is nowhere in India where you can rely on the protection of the law if your words, expressions or actions (otherwise legal) anger someone in power. The fear of reprisals is something people have to face every single day (and I'm just talking city folk). When you're used to living with fear like that, what's the threat of someone storming your city with guns and grenades? A bolt of lightning, which you simply hope will not strike the same spot twice.

This is the big difference again between India and the US. It isn't the thought of their army that makes Americans feel safe. It's the knowledge that their police, their courts and their lawmakers are with them ever single day that makes them feel safe, which is why America lost its collective shit on 9/11. Someone slipped through all those barriers and carried out such an act of terror. Every other in India is a 9/11 or a Nov 26 in miniature, considering the reasons people get killed. So it is shameful, but we have no real instant response that can be given to events like the night of Nov 26. All we can do is change, individual by individual, bit by bit, till we are strong enough to feel fear and demand not to have to live with it everyday.

Review: London Dreams

2009-11-08T16:21:00.000-08:00

The Cast:

Ajay Devgan as Arjun. A struggling “young” musician, Arjun is a London School of Music (??) graduate who forms a band and stocks it with the first two people he meets, a dancer he’s simply got the hots for and his childhood friend from Bhatinda. He’s then surprised when these decisions bite him on his clenched-throughout-the-movie ass.
Salman Khan as Mannu: The love child of every over-exuberant Surd stereotype you came across, Sallu Bhai plays his man-child character with shades of Raja Babu and Coolie No.1 to boot. This is quite apt when you notice his puffed cheeks and sagging chin, causing him to resemble his Dhawan-partner of yore. He’s Arjun’s childhood friend. He joins the bend fresh off the flight from Bhatinda, walks through the movie wearing a kurta-sweater ensemble, and steals the lime light from Arjun till the latter “hooks him on drugs”, making you wonder what the hell he was on before joining the band.
Asin(gam) Thottamkal as Priya: Like every Tamil girl who’s grown up in London, Priya’s been raised in a “caaunsuruwaytiew Iyer family” as a result of which she’s an amazing Bharatnatyam dancer, has a bald father who wears vaeshttis all the time, and secretly pines to grind away on something to tune of “Smack That”, “Promiscuous Girl” or something. Upon entering movie/band, her job is to recite dialogues with varying Tamil accents (She’s just-Mylapore-returned one scene, accent-less 5 minutes later and puts on some Palakkad at one point), sway her hips sinuously every five minutes, fall in love with Sallu Bhai (shudder) and get her heart broken through the most insidious scheme ever.
Two Arbit guys as players for the band: That’s all you need to know
Every gora in London: Hit hard by the recession, spare cash was doubtless why this mélange of extras dance spontaneously – if surprisingly well organized, almost… choreographed – to every song that plays in this movie. They also play the news people, who amazingly speak Bob Christo-accented Hindi, the band manager who threatens to walk out of the audition just to test their desperation, some women who come onto Devgan himself after his first performance at a Trafalgar Square corner (YUCK!!) and Sallu later on (DOUBLE YUCK!!) and the huge crowds gyrating at Wembley Stadium, and Paris, Florence and Amsterdam (which curiously all look the same, as though the director took one long shot and simply slapped on titles to tell you the city)
Om Puri as the sort of chacha who, upon seeing a long-lost nephew who ran way 10 years ago, comes up, smiles and pats him on the arm. He then dispenses sage advice through the film.

The plot:

Arjun’s family has a special hatred of music, as much as he loves it. Apparently his granddad was hit with stage fright when performing at Wembley, and committed suicide afterwards. He prays for some way to be able to continue learning, and gets his chance when his dad drops dead of a heart attack. Flying to London (his uncle runs a kabab stand there), he runs away from his uncle right off customs, and somehow dodging every security officer in Heathrow, finds himself in the heart of London, which we all know is right next to the airport. He then plays the flute in street corners and makes enough to enroll himself at the London School of Music, which evidently does not look for any ID amidst its pupils. He then promises God he will never lose focus till he has avenged his granddad at Wembley in exchange for success. Growing up to resemble Ajay Devgan with his hair slicked back, the guy plays one fine afternoon at Trafalgar Square, drawing spontaneous dances that look oddly choreographed, the arbit guys to play in his band and the lecherous looks of a gori raand (apologies to any women reading) who, like all women there says “Your place or mine?” first.

When they have another audition, Arjun also ropes in Tamil stereotype mentioned above. There’s a cut to her life, with her Tamil Dad walking about with lit Tamil flames on a Tamil plate as she Tamil dances and he waves the Tamil smoke towards her Tamil saris and speaks 5 Tamil words. They all do amazingly well and hang out to some song. The girl hugs Arjun at one point, upon which he gets the sort of rapturous look an Engineering student would get if Asin hugged him. He louwes her. But, seeing as he’s promised God (No distractions) he has to relieve himself by – no joke – whipping himself with his belt. One wonders if V.A. Shah is making some sort of oblique point about maaring (click link if you don’t get it). If so, he seriously beats about the bush.

Anyway, enter Mannu, fresh off the flight from Bhatinda. He’s specially gifted at making an ass of himself. Joining the band as he’s Arjun’s friend, he proceeds to steal the spotlight from him, AND come on successfully to Asin, whom he fondly calls “Chennai Express”. All this causes Arjun to clench his face tighter and tighter till you want to point out to him:

Mannu’s about as talented as Rakhi Sawant, in that his singing’s nothing special. He’s just a thick-skinned media-friendly moron
There are very good Isabgols available on the market, some Ayurvedic even

When his prayers have no effect, Arjun then plots to ruin Mannu by hooking him on “marijuana, coke and methane” and positions Priya at the correct angle so that a fan touching Mannu’s feet looks like she’s about to (gasp) perform fellatio (un-gasp) on him. All this before a grand performance at Wembley where despite Arjun doing his darndest, the audience screams for Mannu. Seeing as about two hours have passed, you’d think Vipul Shah would end the film here, with a sort of Twilight Zone twist. But no, he has Arjun describe to the audience all he has done to perform (the hook and the crook, just in case there are cops in the audience) and walks off stage. An Om Puri lecture later, he repents and goes back to Bhatinda where Mannu is. They all come back to Wembley and perform. It being midnight, we all walk out of the theater and I curse heartily the absent boyfriend of a friend of mine who recommended this movie.

Verdict: What do you think?

Oh, and if the plot seems familiar to you, it’s because you either saw Milos Forman’s 1984 classic “Amadeus” or Suneel Darshan’s 2007 desecration of the same named Shakalaka Boom Boom (!!!) featuring Bobby Deol, Upen Patel and more Himesh music than you’d care to hear. Amadeus was about devout Vienna court composer (Salieri) who realizes upon the arrival of Mozart that his skills are nothing compared to Mozart’s, who is blessed with infinitely more talent despite his boorish behavior. Distraught at God seeming to favor the irreligious and libertine Mozart, Salieri vows to destroy him. The voice over narrating, the anguished close ups, the plotting and backstabbing and even a sort of God confrontation – in the original, Salieri burns a crucifix, here Devgan stares menacingly at a church altar (you’d think he’d be Hindu) – are all ripped off Forman’s movie. Even Sallu’s behavior is ever so slightly reminiscent of Tom Hulce’s Mozart in that film. Poor Forman, Schaffer, Hulce and Abraham.

Oye Sibal-JEE!!

2009-10-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

Kapil Sibal has a problem with the "coaching class" culture that has permeated those who take the JEE. Yes, someone has finally taken offense that people have to dress only in plain shurt-pant /salwaar-kameez and plain chappals or sandals and come to class with plain notebooks wearing a plain watch and plain pens. Not only is this distracting from JEE, but it's anti-poor apparently. Hence the new rule of 80% cutoff in school, in addition to JEE.

Now, I am no fan of coaching classes. I look back on my two years in high school and regret every day I went. Hell, I even hate my repeat coaching class in retrospect, and they're the dudes who gave me hope and got me through the damn JEE. Speaking for Hyd at least, I'd wish a thousand plagues upon the hallowed institutions of Nallakunta, Barkatpura Chaman , Narayanguda and so forth. And I do think it's disturbing that JEE requires 4 years of prepping apart from high school. Nevertheless, Sibal's proposition smacks of supreme idiocy. The wrong activist screamed hoarse at him, and he chose to listen to her/him of all people.

To begin with, how long have coaching centers been around? My cousins cleared the JEE in the late 80's and early 90's, and they didn't need to go to classes. Some subscription material (Brilliant's level stuff) was enough. This was 10 years before I wrote it, when classes were a must. My guess is, look back 10 years before my cousins wrote it, and you'll find being a cut above the rest in math, physics and chemistry was good enough.

So what changed? Put simply, the fucking population. Before IIT Guwahati, the newest IIT was Delhi, which was established in (drumroll please)..... 1961!! 4 institutes of caliber were set up for the entire goddamn nation. It took 30 years to establish a new one, and that was more for political considerations than anything else. So how surprising is it, that as the pie stayed the same and more people wanted a piece, the competition got worse? How surprising is it that professors at IIT had to design JEE so as to (this is something one of em told me) keep students out? The Institutes were around 40 years and only in 2000 did anyone do anything by way of expansion (KGP's expansion basically added a couple of schools, more cream but no base). You have to give the Insti's or the HRD Ministry credit for keeping the JEE - that's why getting in means something. But seriously, 40 years and they never sought to expand the Institutes? Or build more? Were they counting on Sanjay Gandhi to nasbandify the population?

Which brings me to the solution. Like I said, the problem is simply so few seats for so many. The solution is to have more IITs, which they're doing. But that's only the tip of the iceberg. We need more colleges whose degrees mean something. Most colleges have degrees worth a damn only because they're affiliated to some University over the hills and far away. And most of the remainder are outright fakes, one cut above the ICFAIs and IIPMs and Amitys - who by the way continue to do business for this reason. We need more autonomous Universities that carry out both teaching and research, which satisfy the requirements of someone seeking a degree., and which are numerous enough to require only high school marksheets and not quotas or entrance tests (In other news, you can't take the KCET as an instate student unless you write it in Kannada). We need more people to have access to a basic - if not premier - quality of higher education. I mean, the University of Southern Mississippi is obviously not in Purdue's league, but a degree from there in Aeronautics is good enough to get you hired. That requirement is what you need to fill, Mr. Sibal, not sit and fret about student culture.

A spot of humor in all this, though. Sibal wants to push this forward on the basis that coaching classes are both "anti poor" and elitist. Lalu Yadav on the other hand, has taken up cudgels against it, saying that this proposition is both anti poor and anti Bihar. Whatta joke I say.

Arbit Thoughts

2009-10-11T14:32:00.000-07:00

Nobel Thoughts:

The most prominent theory emerging from the blogosphere on Obama's getting the Nobel Peace Prize (his achievements for the same listed nicely here) is that it's for all the awesome things he's going to do now to justify the prize. My own view - it's no coincidence that people have stopped talking about American healthcare since the man won the Nobel. So lost are they in "Obamaaye namaha" chants that they have forgotten their daily exploitation at the hands of Big Insurance. So how'd he get it? Through the secret cabal of Aetna, BlueCross, Humana, UnitedHealth and co., in one of their many ploys - see this and this - to keep health care reform from happening.

Censory Khed:

Karan Johar apologizes for referring to Mumbai as Bombay in his new film (Better and funnier coverage here). He apologizes publicly for doing what half the people who live outside Maharashtra and all the people who live outside India do. And who does he apologize to? Raj-I'm keeping the same Anglicized name as my guerilla uncle-Thackeray.
The I&B Ministry clears a film about Jawaharlal Nehru on the conditions that 4 scenes - ranging from the two going at it to Nehru saying "Edwina, I love you" be deleted, because they "show Nehru in a poor light". To be absolutely sure of high quality illumination wrt Nehru, the film must state "This is a work of fiction". Detailed here.
The Censor board bans 'Postman Always Rings Twice' for portraying "life which is not healthy to Indian society" and 'Matlabi' for being full of "violent gangster incidents and lewd and obscene dances". And this is way back in the 40's. (More details here)

That goonda-parties such as the MNS, the Shiv Sena and BJP do not respect freedom of speech is clear, hell even understandable - they are medievalist morons, Talibs sans the circumcision and beard. The question is, do the people who actually form the Government?

Then and Now

2009-09-20T12:55:00.001-07:00

".... greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms - greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge - has marked the upward surge of mankind, and greed - you mark my words - will not only save Teldar Paper but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA"

So said Gordon Gekko (played by Michael Douglas) in 1987 in Wall Street, a movie Stone considered an extension of Scarface.You know something's wrong with the stock market system when its portrayal has any connection to a movie about cocaine dealings, dismemberment with chainsaws and a record number of f-words per minute. Be that as it may however, Wall Street was not only an accolade winner for Stone et al, but remembered as a significant "expose" of the stock market, the sort of thing Madhur Bhandarkar keeps trying to do and failing.

The funny thing though, is that it actually inspired stock market careers. Stone mentions here how people actually wanted to become stock brokers and investors, because of the film and of Douglas' Gekko. You see some idea of its influence in Boiler Room, a film about fraudulent investors who dream of stock broker life and have prepared for it by watching Wall Street over and over again. In some weird way, Gekko's "Greed is good" mantra influenced a generation. A generation which from the look of things came into its own within the last two-three years, and made the investments that sank the market, put the world in a Recession, made life hell for H1B seekers and finally made I-banking and stock-trading similar to what Stone originally envisioned it as - dealing an addictive little powder that makes you self-destructive.

Why all this ramble? Two reasons. Firstly, Stone isn't done with Gekko. He's bringing him back for a sequel set in the present time. The story is covered in the same article above. Gekko is apparently going to try to be a better person now, maybe say "Maybe greed isn't so good after all". What resonance this story will have with the world around us is interesting to think of, specially for someone who loved the original Wall Street - watch it if you haven't already.

The other reason is this story that released around the same time. Seeing as home-owner mortgages aren't so hot to invest in, and seeing that people are locked in a major gridlock over health insurance, Wall Street execs have come up with the perfect solution. They'll buy your health insurance policy, chop it up into securities and bundle em, and sell the bundles on the market. The kicker - the sooner you die, the higher the return on the bundle from your packet. That's right folks, Wall Street now wants to bet on whether you can beat the yerumai, and is putting its money on the yerumai.

"Greed is good". Except of course when it's bad.

Little Kids, Big Mistakes - II: Little Krishna and Big Animation

2009-08-17T20:34:00.000-07:00

As I'd mentioned in my last post, children's television in India has reached an all time low. The question now is what is being done?

A key step in the right direction is "Little Krishna", a show airing on Nickelodeon India. That it was Nickelodeon that picked this show up, and not any of the zillion Hindi/regional channels tells you a lot. The show was set up by BIG Animation, a subsidiary of Reliance Entertainment. You see the BIG when you see little Krishna's animation all right. For the first time, we get animation that compares favorably with the West (or East for that matter, the Koreans animate Simpsons). I can't compare it to Pixar or Dreamworks, but it's a major improvement on such nonsense as Bal Ganesh or Little Hanuman. Compare the three:

Little Hanuman:

Bal Ganesh:

Chota Bheem:

and Little Krishna:

The difference is all too obvious. Where the first two go for "Oh it's cute enough for kids to pick up and it's mythology so that's good enough", the third does create this world where Krishna and his pals play while fending off Kamsa's continuous assaults. I could further attest to the latter after viewing several episodes. Which is where Krishna scores. Craftsmanship.

This is the first requirement for any good TV show, specially for kids. Like I said, most animation houses in India don't care what their final product even looks like. It's impossible to get them to improve corresponding content. Clearing this baseline requirement, Little Krishna and its ilk are in a position to confront the next one.

Creativity. Here is where Krishna faces a bit of a problem. Doubtless to minimize rioting and blasphemy FIRs (see this btw, it's hilarious), BIG Animation went to ISKCON for the stories. The result is the televised equivalent of those pies one got at ISKCON bakeries - gooey, dripping and hoping to make up for lack of crust with a ton of sugar.

Consider for instance, the whole blue thing. Krishna was said to have the complexion of a raincloud, and hence paintings showed him as glowing purply-blue, a motif much much repeated in any ISKCON religious text. While suitable (I suppose) for paintings, it's weird to see a blue kid running about amidst a bunch of normal complexioned people. He ends up looking like Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen. Couldn't BIG have gone with a dark skin? Similarly consider Kamsa's demons. None do more than strike an evil pose and leer at Krishna, saying something on the lines of "Ha ha ha, I will kill you because I'm an evil demon and you're only a little child". In addition, not one of the demons is shown to really pose a threat to Krishna. I know the source material dictates that Krishna triumph over them, but does it have to be so easy? A tornado demon carries him off, only to succumb to Krishna's mass altering powers. A monstrous stork and python attack him, only he has super-strength. Kaliya comes up, but is no match for his super Kathakali/Taekwondo powers. And when a living-flame type demon tries to burn the forest about him, what does Krishna do? Make an ever so slight poopy face and suck in the demon. That's right, he has flame-ingestion powers too. This of course brings up the question as to whether Krishna makes for an interesting animated series, but that's a digression again. The point is that for now, BIG is afraid to veer off the safe-and-cutesy side of Krishna tales. Hence the implied innocence in all the girls of Vrindavan dancing to his flute despite the quasi-sexual tones of the Rasa-Lila.

The requirement as I see it is for creativity. Of the type that pushes boundaries. Something like say this clip from the Ren and Stimpy show [look it up here]. And before you protest the violence in it, think Tom and Jerry. Even if that extreme is avoided, consider a show like Animaniacs. The source of the "Pinky and the Brain" cartoons, this show was famous not only for its smart slapstick but also for naughty little jabs, as recounted here. Jabs that make reference to giving people the bird and fingering amongst other things.

My point in all this is not to ask for more vulgarity in kids shows. Heaven knows they get enough of that from their song and dance shows. What is needed is the assumption that kids are smart, and write shows that nurture their sensitivities while stimulating them in some way. Because kids are smart. See shows like this one to realize what can be done with their entertainment:

This post has meandered a bit. I didn't really know of a way to end it, so I decided to call for some discussion. What shows did you watch as a kid and find entertaining without being dumb? Let's discuss readers.

Little Kids, Big Mistakes - I

2009-08-11T17:04:00.000-07:00

Among the many things wrong with Indian TV these days, perhaps the worst is the absence of good children's programming. What are the choices available to kids (toddlers to twelve year-olds) on television?

There are game shows like this, which inculcate a filmy fifteen minutes of fame mentality. at least, and a propensity for vulgarity at worst. There are laughable shows such as "Hero: Bhakti hi Shakti Hain" (!!!!) about a Durga bhakt who is given a boon that transforms him in a poorly animated flash into a red-coloured Shaktimaan-type when he chants "Bhakti hi Shakti hain" enabling him and his hyper-cutesy children friends to engage in poorly-animated laser battles with Darth Vader's poor cousin who could only afford cardboard for his Sith helmet. And there are hyper-cutesy animated shows like "Little Bheem" (here) about which the less said the better. Among the features carefully removed from these programs are good animation and narrative imagination, lest they strike an aesthetic or intellectual chord in their viewers. Kids TV in short lobotomizes children so as to prepare them for MTV's Teen Divas and Roadies during their teenage years, the Big Boss/Rakhi ka... type reality shows during their early adulthood and Ekta Kapoors K-series when their brains are ready to call it Alzheimer's.

The thing is, it was not always like this.

People who watched Zee in the 90's will remember "Aavishkar", an engaging and criminally underrated game show that required its contestants to - believe it or not - out-science each other. They had to know stuff for a quiz round, figure out how stuff might be expected to work in a different one and most impressively had to build some sort of contraption for one of the rounds. The show was hosted by a less annoying kid than always and his 'Professor'-type uncle., who was always entertaining. That this show was made for kids goes to tell you what Zee once thought of them. Similarly engaging was "It's Wild" on StarPlus. A sort of teenage quiz show, this one was ecologically themed and had contestants who actually knew and gave a shit about wildlife. Unfortunately, Subhash Chandra decided one fine day to out-Rupert Murdoch, who in turn dumbed down his content - specially children's content - to moronic levels.

Perhaps the most consistent channel as far as good kids shows is concerned is Doordarshan. Sure, it ripped off ideas from the west (there was a ridiculous Star Trek clone named Antar Shoonya or something) and its special effects were passable at best, but its writing was something. And there was someone there with the brains to realize that people could get all their special effects from Hollywood cinema. Hence for example, the use of puppets to make a miniseries of the Arabian nights. Similarly smart were the tales of Hodja that were written by Gulzar. And does anyone remember "Indradhanush", about a bunch of kids and a supercomputer? What an idea!! Kids having adventures with a computer. Even with the silly effects and so on, it was exciting then and deserves kudos in retrospect. DD's monopoly may have caused boredom at large, but it helped it come up with programs that didn't have to dumb down for TRPs.

The trouble I guess started when all these people began competing, and big time. Hindi /Regional content of course is logical. What wasn't was the decision to either dumb down en masse, or rip off Western ideas en masse.

I doubt people remember any original Indian kids shows from the mid 90's or so. The reason was simple: dubbing was in. DD began with Disney's Hindi-dubbed Talespin and Duck Tales and Zee brought in Japanese stuff. Star in the meantime stuck with its original line-up, slowly replacing all kids programs with adult stuff. Cartoon Network took a lead at this time, with its line of entirely foreign-made shows. By the way, Hindi dubbing could not destroy the greatness of Batman: The Animated Series on DD. But I digress.

Dubbing has become rather passe, as now there are hajaar regional channels doing it - hence Batman in Tamil. Cutesy is the new buzzword, hence shows such as "Hero:BHSH", "Chota Bheem" (shudder) and "Ghost Bana Dost" (just read the title, no way I'm ever watching this even by accident). Another buzzword/paradigm is "15 min of fame", which is seen in all the dance shows kids do now, in place of quizzes or science shows. It ain't Carnatic or Kathakali they do on these shows. And it ain't MS or Aruna Sairam they dance to.

Kids TV in short is abysmal. Is there hope? Well yes. What and how? Next post.

And I'm Back Again

2009-08-10T20:59:00.001-07:00

Well, what do I say about my prolonged absence?

I could claim lack of time, but I was on holiday for two goddamn months.

I could blame the absence of something to write on, but I was in India for two goddamn months.

What then do I say about not blogging?

I dunno, just didn't happen [Shrug].

Till I read this here. Greatbong started off so (a link from his post) and can now boast of an upcoming book.

And all thanks to persistence and a lot of time.

Cliched, but it's a sign. A light illuminating the path ahead.

Something new coming up shortly. Till then, know that I persist.

I took 50 words (linking to another's writing) to say so.

Another Awesome One-Liner I Have No Use for Yet

2009-06-25T04:34:00.000-07:00

From some sort of conservative chastity-belt-purdah type guy:

"Broken hearts can heal. Not broken hymens"

Musings of the Machaan from the Midwest

2009-06-18T01:03:00.000-07:00

In the vein of all US-returned types from the movies, I have seen things that I didn't expect to see. Here are a few that particularly stick out in the memory:

6 tigers and 1 leopard: It goes to show you what parks like Kanha are capable of. 1 tiger and the leopard were actually witnessed making a kill, which is like a one-in-a-million thing. I expected to see tigers at Kanha, and hoped to see a leopard. This went beyond all hopes and dreams
Fields of plastic: The most disturbing thing about the new market economy is that rural India gets products without the means to safely dispose of them. Jabalpur was horrific in this respect, with plastic bags clogging and filling the city's drains. Equally disturbing was the sight of plastic filling every pit and basti by the rails on the train back to Delhi - there was a pool saturated with polythene which looked deceptively stable till you noticed an embankment and the water plants by it. Most disturbing of all: Plastic waste lining the highway towards Kanha, and slowly but surely entering the farmers' fields on either ends. If Kanha was the stuff of dreams, the trip back was the stuff of nightmares.
Baichung Bhutia on Jhalak Dikhla Ja: A man who was once regarded a crusader amidst the fatcats, a footballer in a cricket-frenzied nation, a man whom you never saw on TV and had to know from quizzes, is now in the news more than ever because of his dancing skills. What has reality TV done to our kalaacharam?
Nymphets on a Krishna devotional: I dunno who came up with the music to this video I saw on B4U. I can't find the video itself, [Update: here it is. Artist is named Tulsi Kumar] to show you. But the thing goes thus: Three schoolgirls (one of whom has an I-card saying she's sixteen) modify their I-cards to sneak into an adults only concert featuring the artist (if one may use the term). They then land up on stage as well with said artist and a dozen topless men. The ensemble then pull off the usual thumkas and jhatkas from "Kaanta laga" to "Mirchi", breaking ever so often to chant "Radhe Shyam" which is also the song title. I wish I could meet the artist. I could tell her Lolita Sahasranamam was a better title for her tripe.
Mahesh Bhatt making a documentary on GM foods: Yes. Tired of repeatedly discussing his marital difficulties and DVD-itis, the great man has now made "Poison on the Platter" a documentary on GM foods, taking input from such fellow biotech luminaries as Sri Sri Ravi Shankar and Baba Ramdev. That this is scientific is clear from the fact that a whole scientist - the director of CCMB - also had 2 cents to put in. The discussion that followed the screening of this effort was remarkable for inputs from two people. One said, why progress? What's progress? Why live in the city? What great advantage has any technology brought? The other spoke somewhat like Gautam Emani on speed (no offense intened if you're reading this my friend), trashing science, economics, media and the fact that I, as a graduate student with some technical qualification was so mired in it. He did not, amazingly offer me a red pill.

Jai Ho!!

2009-05-16T19:19:00.000-07:00

It's rather apt that the Congress bought the rights to use "Jai Ho" as their slogan, considering that as little as a year ago they were considered underdogs, if not slumdogs. That they managed to go from being dependent on Amar Singh to being free of Laloo Yadav shows some good sense on theri part as well as that of the Indian voter. Their win of 200+ seats ensures that for a while at least, India will have a stable government not beholden to regional satraps and kingmakers. Journos, pundits and bloggers are already at pains to explain this reversal of fortune for the UPA. Here's my own two cents:

If there was one thing that the debacle of Sarah Palin made clear, it was that obvious pandering to a base isn't very well recieved, especially when said pander-candidate is otherwise an out and out trainwreck. The BJP should have realised this with Varun Gandhi. To give the devil his due, he's won his Pilibhit seat. But in failing to put a leash on this obnoxious little Rottweiler, the BJP of Atal Behari Vajpayee, Jaswant Singh and Yashwant Sinha has lost its way.
If there was another thing that the 2008 US Presidential Elections made clear, it was that people do not appreciate a one-cure-fits-all slogan, least of all during a financial crisis. As with "Cut taxes" and "Bomb Iran", "Restore POTA", "Build a Ram Mandir" and "Fuck Muslims in general" pretty much wrecked it for the BJP with just about anyone who thought before voting. They had one good idea (National I-cards) on their one good issue (National security). But neither idea nor issue were given much voice, screwing it big time for the party.
Nearly 50 years after Nehru and 30 years after Indira, the blessed Gandhi name still carries weight with the Indian janata, especially in UP. Varun Gandhi was tolerated because of his last name and won his Pilibhit seat too. Rahul Gandhi managed to manuoeuvre his last name so as to keep his Amethi seat and up the number of Congress seats in UP to 20. He and Mayawati were two people expected to come into their own at this point. He managed to exceed expectations, unlike Mayawati whose party took a major hit
Against all odds, writer, UN diplomat and all-round pompous ass Shashi Tharoor has won his seat in Thiruvananthapuram. There's hope for the over educated English-speaking people of India yet.

Hail the Motherland, Down with the Fatherstate

2009-04-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

An election season winds to a close. A new Government will come into being. And its first action will be to dole out largess to the various vote banks it went about wooing. The UPA has already mentioned reservations for minorities - what the FUCK does that mean at this point? - and a national food subsidy for every poor individual in the country. They also mean to expand the NREGA and the standard free power packages. Other parties are also busy promising people things that will drop into their lap as gifts, should they come into power.

Note the use of that term. Gifts. None of these actions are in any sense directed towards mitigating India's issues of poverty, inequality etc. None of them, even the ones that aim to "uplift" the poor, do something that directly enables the underprivileged. Bounty must needs drop from the sky - or rather the public Exchequer - onto people in exchange for their vote. The standard responses to these promises are cynical statements like "It's an excuse for corruption" or "These politicians are only out for their vote banks". What a lot of people miss however, is the cultural history behind these actions.

Consider pre-British India, specially in the waning days of the Mughal Empire. A territory could belong to one ruler today, and another tomorrow. Today you might have to report to the Peshwa of XYZ, and tomorrow to the Nizam of ABC. That Peshwa/Sultan/Nizam/Raja moreover would delegate all responsibility over the land to some local jagirdar/zamindar. Within this feudal and often fractured system, consistent bootlicking was the only way to get anything you wanted from those in power, who were essentially men with swords/guns/artillery. You can call this an opinion, but think of this - How many of our old tales involve crises that were in the end resolved by a wave of the ruler's hand, whether a crisis of poverty or crime? The ruler is traditionally held as a dispenser of all state functions - largesse is his/her generosity and justice his/her righteousness. The idea of an independent functionary who dispenses the duties of the state because it is his/her function wasn't there (Although there were rare exceptions such as Akbar, who established a Quazi system for legal disputes and so forth).

The British could have fixed this if they wanted. But they didn't care to. It suited them to take the places at the very top, and worry only about getting theirs. Hence, with marginal improvements, the bureaucracy that Macaulay established in India pretty much took the place of the original system, with babus and Governer-sahibs being the ones whose boots had to be licked.

The real sin Nehru committed was in not removing this mental baggage, IMO. In establishing his Socialist state, Nehru essentially told the people "We'll take care of everything for you. You need do nothing. Not be entrepreneurs, not think competitively, not take the offensive when it comes to your betterment, not even pay taxes" He moreover expanded the role of the State, giving it soft power over all socioeconomic aspects, and nationalized just about everything under the Sun, assuring people the Gornament would do all and provide all, be the maa-baap of the people. His babus however, made it abundantly clear that their services had a price. Glory of the nation and advancement of the people was all fine, but sarkaari salaries after all were sarkaari salaries.

The result? More bootlicking. Except now it's to a whole bunch of people. It's to IAS officers. It's to IPS officers. It's to MLAs and MPs. It's to Secretaries and Clerks and Commisioners. It's to way more people than our medieval ancestors had to lick the boots off. And it reached a stage wherein bootlicking to strangers produced no result. Hence the development of regional/caste-based/linguistic/religious parties and candidates. Apne aadmi par to hum bharosa kar sakthe hain.

The way forward? Well, to some extent the market has shown the way but there's only so much it can do. The real task, if you see is for people to realize their rights, and collectively put the apparatchiks of the State in their place. This, sadly is hard to explain to a Jhumritalaiyya farmer. Till such time someone can do that, he must continue his daily supplications.

What to do?

2009-04-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

I didn't hear what she was originally saying. I was hurrying home with dinner on my mind, she was sitting in a corner facing away from me and the wind and rain and street made whatever she was saying unintelligible. Hell, all I can tell you about her is that she had dark hair and wore a green or blue shirt (It's already fading away).

It was when I reached the road ten paces in front of where she was seated that her voice rose. "You did not ....(it was still garbled)...Are you a decent guy? What the fuck....supposed to...How am I.... How the fuck..."

All this I could hear as I was crossing over to the other side, which speaks both for the volume of said subject's voice and my desire to get away from a fellow human being in distress. Years of living in India, after all, have not gone to waste.

I looked back when I had reached the other side. She was saying something I could not hear. I couldn't see if she was speaking. What I could see was her head sunken and shoulders shaking.

She might have been talking to her father. Her brother. Her friend. Her boyfriend, fiancee or husband. Hell, for all I know, her pimp or drug dealer (this is unlikely btw, seeing as she looked like a college student). But to hear her speak and see her break down made me sympathetic.

What should I have done? Gone back across and admitted I heard her conversation? Come off as a voyeur? A possible creep? What would I have said to make the thing better? What COULD I have done? Tell me if something occurs to you.

It's a question we ask ourselves every now and then. And it's never pleasant when we do.

One Small Step....

2009-03-31T21:25:00.000-07:00

I am a writer. So says Agni, the literary magazine:

"Dear Akasuna no Sasori (I used my real name but..),

Thank you for sending "Security Check." Your work received careful consideration here.

We've decided this manuscript isn't right for us, but we wish you luck placing it elsewhere.

Kind regards,

The Editors"

Now, if I could only become a published writer.

UNintelligent

2009-03-30T07:24:00.000-07:00

Back in class V, one of the fun ways to spend Civics class was to play "United Nations". One dude would be India, one China, one Pakistan and so on. I got the chance to play some sort of mediator, the Sec. Gen. or whatever. Growing up, as one read of the role the UN played in recent history (mediating US-Soviet Conflict, Indo-Pak '49, Indo-China '62, Afghanistan, Rwanda and so on), it became clear that the actual UN wasn't much different from the game. Indeed, one wonders how they would fare on "Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?".

But recently the UN did something that flies so magnificently in the face of logic and reason as to leave you awestruck. On the 27th of March, a resolution was passed that criticized, sorry condemned criticism of religion. Why? According to the august body, "defamation of religion" was a human rights violation. And what august body was this? The UN Council for Human Rights, in response to a proposition put forward by that eternal champion of human rights, Pakistan. Seeing this bold and noble step, various other nations, that were also members of the Organisation of the Islamic Conference (OIC) in Africa and the Middle East, each havens for human rights and dignity, backed this resolution giving it the full support it needed. Their point was that a "delicate balance" had to be struck between respect for religion and freedom of expression (full story here).

For the human rights watchdog of a body formed to promote human rights and development to propose curbs on freedom of expression is the sort of thing George Orwell would have loved to satirize, something so patently ridiculous you do not know whether to laugh or cry at it. The good news though is that this resolution is "non-binding" as is. The UN moreover in recent years has (mercifully) had just enough power to blow its nose and sneeze if the President of the United States okays.

A quick note on India's role in this. Along with Canada, India criticized the resolution as vague and easily malleable to fundie interpretation. On these noble grounds however, it did not vote on the issue. Nehru must be smiling somewhere.

Dante Alighieri wrote - The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in a time of moral crisis, remain neutral" The UN's very role was to promote such neutrality to begin with. It seems finally close to generating some heat on Earth itself.

More Awesome Bits and Pieces

2009-03-16T19:48:00.001-07:00

In the vein of the one-liners, here we have more ideas that unfortunately lack a body of work to be attached to. Take for instance:

"Know, O Prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Anna Nagar and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the sons of Seri-yaas, there was an age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across like blue mantles beneath the stars--Nengambakkam, Ompet, Besantia, Peramburea, Zaidapet with its dark-haired women and towers of spider-haunted mystery, Zingamani with its chivalry, Thatth that bordered on the pastoral lands of Shetput, Stygiapet with its shadow-guarded tombs, Triplikania whose rickshaw-kaarans wore steel and silk and gold. But the proudest kingdom in the world was Thiruvanmiyonia, reigning supreme in the dreaming West(?). Hither came, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, to tread the thrones of the Earth under his chappaled feet.........Kannan the Barbarian"

[See this for reference, though you should've got the joke by now]

Similarly, take the title for my memoirs, wherein I discuss everything from martial arts to the Hindi I learnt at IIT Guwahati:

"From Arae Maki To Teri Maa Ki"

Now if I could only get around to writing these things

Jai Ho!!!

2009-02-24T07:43:00.000-08:00

Owing to the lack of spam guards at Guwahati till third year, a number of junk mails would make it to everybody's inboxes, from the Director down.The most annoying of these mails was this proclamation which went something like this:

India has world's greatest brainpower

India invented the zero

Indian scientists are leaders at MIT and Silicon Valley

Bill Gates loves India

Third richest man in the world is an Indian (!!!!)
(etc. etc.)
.
.
.
Therefore, be proud to be an Indian!!! Jai Hind!!

I recieved this mail something like 10 times, each time sent by some idiot who clearly felt our patriotism could use a boost.

What kind of moron must keep preaching "be proud to be an Indian?". I'm not ashamed to be an Indian and I dare you to denigrate my country before me yes, but whatever achievements the country has made are split amidst a billion-plus people. Pride is something that should arise from individual achievement. What these mails preach is a blatant jingoism that smacks of some pretty deep insecurity on part of sender and creator alike. This same insecurity is seen when we jump for joy at Sunita Williams' achievement. An INDIAN in space, we say. Uh, and what of the fact that she was raised in America, is half-American and married an American? No no, she ate dhoklas in orbit!! There's deshbhakti for you. Similarly, we like to claim Rushdie, Desai, Lahiri and hajaar other such foreign citizens as our own, despite their not having been near the subcontinent in God knows how long. People who garn Western attention must be held close to the Indian bosom, no matter how tenuous the connection.

The reason for this rather lengthy intro is the news of Slumdog Millionaire winning 8 Oscars, including Best Picture. Or rather, the news of what happened after it. Readers here know my opinion of this film (go here for a quick refresher). A large section of the Indian populace found it similarly cliched and denigrating (see here), and the movie did not really sell in India.

But Sunday night changed everything. Monday (the corresponding day in India) became "India's day, a time to beam with pride as the world's largest democracy gathered up Oscar gold" to quote the LA Times.

"“What a day it has been for India!” gushed a television news anchor midmorning." to quote the New York Times.

And not to be left behind, our Param Pujya Pradhaan Mantri issued a statement saying that the people who worked on the film have done India proud, the Arthavyavastha Mantri said "the country of a billion people adopted Briton Danny Boyle's film as its own though it may not be an Indian film" and that said film marked the rise of Indian soft power and the Sansad "hailed the success saying the ‘historic achievement’ of three Indians winning Academy Awards is a global acknowledgment of the excellence of Indian artiste"

And India celebrated, apparently by going for a collective haircut if one is to believe the L A Times again.

India celebrates!!! (This was actually the caption they put)

Jai Ho!! Jai Ho!! Yet another reason to be proud to be an Indian. I can see the next mail coming.

The Valentine Monologues

2009-02-14T11:16:00.000-08:00

Aa gaya Aa gaya, Valentine's day aa gaya,
Aa gaya Aa gaya, something something aa gaya

(arbit song from the 80's, the rest of which I can't remember)

My weekly call home took place earlier than usual, during which, when discussing Mangalore, my Dad brought up an interesting point. A point that can be summarized as:

"Indha Valentine day-allaan yedhukku? Namba tyethla idhallan yilliyae"

His tone added to the question, conveying the bemusement that older generations feel with this muhurtam for cho-chweet lovey-dovey shit. This in turn leads me to muse a good deal and post my thoughts on V-day.

At least in the Indian context, Valentine's day is not older than a decade, twelve at best. It began to make its presence felt about 6-7 years following the opening of the free market, which, when you think about it, is the time Hallmark took to build up a presence in India and Archie's to penetrate the market beyond Delhi and Bombay. About '97 is when we began to hear of this, of couples going to dances for V-day, of cafes and whatnot holding couple specials and of course of all the stuff you could buy for your significant other at "gift stores". Because as we all know, nothing says pure romantic love like a 70 Rupees card and a 200 Rupees pack of chocolate. Woh tab tha jab Chocolate hi gift ke liye de sakte the. Ab dete hain iPod, cell phone, deluxe Bouquet, dinner at Fleury's, Night-out at Fever etc. etc. and of course Archies or Hallmark gifts. V-day is essentially a fallout of the Great Opening Up of the Indian economy, with every goddamn retailer and restaurateur hoping to con someone into spending cash, and every dude in the media brainwashing people into considering this acceptable and even essential to love, chweet, icky lowwwwwwwve.

Ok.

Now, I had a middle-class upbringing. I had wayyy less cash or time to spend on these days than a lot of my schoolmates, who bought into this a good deal more. We nevertheless were a sort of starter generation, in the we-can-take-it-or-leave-it stage. It is worrisome, to me and I guess to the older generations of today, that so many youngsters are hooked into what is essentially a spending addiction, for no reason than that CCD and Fever have special couples' discounts and VJs Mini, Malaika, Shenaaz, Piya, Nikki and so forth (notice any Sharanyas, Priyas or even Poojas there) strut their stuff on TV and tell you to go do spend. Is this romantic? Not by a long shot? Is it worth the attention it gets? Not by an even longer shot. Does it polarize society even further, separating salwar-kameez-thayir saadam with ooruga tiffin wallahs from jeans-miniskirt-CCD-types? Absolutely. So I do sympathize with the Pink Condom campaign, who abhor violence and hope for Ram Sene-types to be locked up, but dislike V-day as a whole. Because when you get down to it, this is peer pressure akin to "take a drag yaar". There is no one muhurtam to lowwwve someone and then forget about said person for the other 364 days.

With that being said, I have to say celebration of V-day makes some sense for neophytes at dil-vil-pyaar-vyaar. When you're a boy (not a man) and you like a girl (not a woman, not a wife) and the two of you hit it off to the point of awkward, sitcom-style dating, it ought to mark an achievement of sorts for you to make it to one of these, like surviving a tournament to a quarter final. So for those who can derive some sort of enjoyment out of this, I say go knock yourself out before the realization sets in that you've been manipulated by the Man and his Machine. And as before, freedom, even to engage in activities as silly as this, is essential. Let Ram/Shiv Senas take this away today and you don't know what they'll find offensive tomorrow.

But for myself though, single, frustrated and quite devoid of the syrupy chweet lowwvey sentiment this day's supposed to drown you in, I just say "Valentine's day? Bah! Humbug!!"

Now That We've Reaped....

2009-01-31T14:54:00.000-08:00

You'd think, after all the trouble we went through in November - to put it mildly - cops would take tougher stances against large violent gatherings in entertainment spots such as pubs and restaurants.

You'd think, after all the trouble about the live channels interfering with police action, they'd know better than to just sit and cover a mob attacking women.

You'd think, having done something that callous, the newspeople would condemn it outright as an assault on freedom and not start debates on "pub culture", calling the very person who instigated the violence to debate it on television, thus getting his message across to fellow saffro-Talibs.

You'd think the internal security apparatus would realize letting people get away with violence now tantamounts to letting them get away with murder later on. You'd really think they would arrest a man who brags about training Hindu suicide bombers to take on "the Islamic menace".

You'd think the Karnataka State Government would take strong action against perpetrators who openly threaten our freedom instead of mumbling some stuff about "pub culture" and how it is offensive.

You'd think people would realize that if you give up little freedoms today, you will lose greater ones tomorrow.

You'd think these terrorists, who use violence against hapless victims and openly discuss their agenda to take us to some Ram-Rajya out of B. R. Chopra and Ramanand Sagar, would be dealt with by the Government, the media and the people.

You'd think.

Slumdog Millionaire: Why So Serious

2009-01-12T11:49:00.001-08:00

Like The White Tiger is a great serious book, Slumdog Millionaire is a great serious film. By great, I mean raved about by just about every film critic in the West (see here). By serious, I mean you do not just go to this film hoping to be entertained for a couple of hours - go see "Harold and Kumar" or "Singh is King" for that. You go see this film so as to uplift yourself and be lost in a masterpiece that captures the real India in a Dickensian fairytale of life and love. Having seen this oh-so-awesome film I wanted, as the title suggests, to ask Danny Boyle, Vikas Swarup and Co. "Why so goddamned serious?".

The movie, we are told, takes a Dickensian approach to depicting the real India. What it does is present the West with every known stereotype of the Third World - swap India for Congo, Afghanistan, Burkina Faso or Papua New Guinea and the movie would be unchanged save for some Hindi at the beginning. The real [Insert country here] is found in slums, amidst filth unimaginable that the camera sort of luxuriates in. Slum children are shooed away by teachers, other parents, policemen (in the middle of a riot) and beaten mercilessly at every turn (Something else the camera will focus on). Any stranger who shows kindness inevitably turns out to be some sort of pervert. All policemen are corrupt props for the eevull rich. Placed in this hell, the hero fulfils the most pressing concern a struggling slumdweller can have - he tracks down his one true love, a girl he has met perhaps twice since he and she were pre-teens. Gangsters, cops, a condescending quiz show host and his own evil brother stand in the way, but true love must triumph in the end.

Well, films are supposed to be fantastic and heaven knows you can find plot holes in "The Dark Knight". The problem with this film is its tone. If this film were meant to be a masala romance in the vein of "Kuch Kuch Hota Hain", "Taal" or "Only You", not to be taken seriously, where was the need for throwing in the slums of Bombay as a backdrop? And if we are to take "Slumdog Millionaire" as great serious filmmaking, well, here are a few problems:

(1) The usage of English in the film is inexplicable, especially given that the protagonist and his brother did not go to school – something the movie repeatedly reminds them and the audience. Nevertheless, they speak fluent English with British accents. English in India is used amongst the educated, its usage often a class distinction. For an otherwise illiterate boy to speak English, confidently addressing Westerners when posing as tour guides and using phrases such as “don’t give a shit” and “plenty of pussy for XYZ” is absurd.

(2) The host of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” is repeatedly shown to mock the protagonist’s profession and background, calling him a chaiwalla (tea-bringer) and marveling at his luck. Mocking people for being poor on live television in India is as big a faux pas as using racial slurs on live television in the US, something no game show host wishing to keep his job would do. Equally unrealistic and distasteful are the repeated reminders by the news channels that the protagonist is illiterate. No mention is made of where he lives or works, simply that he is an illiterate slum-dweller.

(3) The police are shown to arrest the protagonist on the word of the game show host alone, who is never seen to so much as sign a First Information Report. They beat and electrocute him on the basis that an illiterate “slumdog” could not know what he did. Nevertheless, they suspect a smuggled microchip as a possible modus operandi. How could an illiterate slumdog use a microchip? The scenes serve no purpose than to show people how inhumane foreign police forces are.

(4) Whether it is in Bombay or Agra (location of the Taj Mahal), the protagonist remains surrounded by filth unimaginable. Especially cringe-worthy was the scene where the protagonist leaps into a pool of excreta to get to the movie star. Slum-dwellers are as concerned about hygiene and cleanliness as everyone else and for a person to do that is absurd. While much of India lacks development, it is offensive that a director repeatedly present such stereotypical images.

(5) Similarly cringe-worthy were the scenes where a passenger attempts to yank the two children off a moving train, and where a chauffeur mercilessly stomps the fallen child on the head. Again, the lot of street children in India is not a pleasant one. They are regarded with suspicion and hatred by a lot of people. It is absurd however that every member of the middle or servant class treat them with utter disregard for their lives.

We all have this yearning for India to be looked upon as great by the West, and SM has been

hailed as the best thing since bread came sliced by such greats as Shashi Tharoor, Chidanand

Rajghatta and Raja Sen. Like White Tiger, it is simply an attempt to pigeon hole us under

poverty, misery and call centers.

The White Tiger: Why So Serious?

2008-12-18T10:38:00.000-08:00

This is a bit of a pointless exercise seeing as Arvind Adiga has written a second book already AND won the Manaviya Pustakwala Puraskar for this one. Reading this and seeing the book touted by newspapers and mags as great serious literature however, one feels compelled to put in one's own 2 paise on it.

Let's get what's good about the book out of the way. The book has a plot that consistently holds the reader's interest (it did mine), and stays suspenseful after delivering a minor jolt in the first chapter. Adiga does a decent job of making us root for the protagonist even though he isn't an underdog by a long shot. The narration is slick, alternating between tones of insight and black humour. All in all, you will never feel bored while reading this book.

The precise problem with the book is that it's not just a story of a guy from Bihar (Balram Halwai) who made it big in Bangalore. It's great serious literature with a great serious message, and has to be assessed as such. This message, like in movies such as RDB and A Wednesday is repeated every few pages across The White Tiger, till you want to tear your hear and scream "Yessir we get it". The White Tiger is essentially a "message book". This message, which the gora press also calls theme or undertone or describes as "painted in broad strokes", trumps the story, takes centerstage from Balram and ultimately swings your Tomatometer from "Good" to "Pretentious".

Well, what's the message, you ask? Well, put simply, the message is that life for the underclasses in India sucks. To elaborate, it is that life in a village in UP-Bihar is miserable. That villages lack basic amenities such as roads, medical services and schools due to corruption. That politicians rig elections in villages. That corrupt cops enforce political diktat in Bihar. That rural landlords oppress villagers and suck their lifeblood on a daily basis. And...... wait for it.... that you can get away with running over slum-dwellers in Delhi. Wow Adiga-sirjee!! How insightful and revealing. You have exposed the seamy underbelly of India to us anpadh-gawaar-types who thought it to be a magical land of sunshine and buttercups where rivers of chocolate flowed. Wah bhai Wah!!

[To be fair though, he springs three entirely new ones on us. The first, that a poor joint family is a milestone about the neck of an entrepreneur, akin to the chicken coop. The second, that landlords "lord it" over rivers and village roads as well as the fields. And the third, that wizened old grandmothers are evil and manipulative]

You may think I am ripping on the guy due to my desh-bhakti or whatever (friend Anu felt so when I discussed this book). Well here's the thing. An accurate presentation of life in a village would include detailed description of the village itself - its various streets, the shops, the people who run 'em, the people who pas through it daily and all this in detail. All Adiga presents us is a main street, which is described as bisected through a river of sewage and ending in a temple of Hanuman, which could describe just about any village in India. Ditto for the teashop, the school and the schoolmaster and the evil opressive bloodsucking landlord-politician-policemen. He presents us a generic village, cobbled out of bits of Yashraj films and R. K. Narayan and says "See!! See!! Life is so so bad!!". The approach is the same for Balram's master, kind and indecisive master Ashok-from-US. Being "US-returned", Ashok commits a number of cardinal sins. He marries outside the religion (a Christian NRI who likes to say "What a fucking joke!!" and who leaves him upon which his father says I told you so), pays and treats his servants better than his India-stayed brother (His dad says "The ideas you pick up") and most shameful of all, hates the idea of bribing people. All this despite having grown up with his evil-oppressor brother and father. Near the end, Balram kills him thinking he should've seen it coming and reflecting on how his brother wouldn't have fallen for it. And most significantly, while the book is supposedly about Balram's rise, we don't see much of that. We only know he used a sum of stolen money (which in present time, is fairly peanuts) to start a business which was a success, one of those Eureka!!-meets-Abracadabra type successes. Half the book is about Balram's generically miserable upbringing. Another one-third then brings up the prospect of stealing cash. He does it. Voila!! Balram is now a millionaire. So there, says Arvind-by Golly-Adiga. See, see!! India is so so bad no!! Poor man from village is fucked over always. Only way to get ahead is to murder rich mans from city. See see!!!

And lest you still think I'm unfairly getting at him for his message check his Wikibio here, where you'll see he's not been near a village in a long time, and his justification in writing the book, which is:

"At a time when India is going through great changes and, with China, is likely to inherit the world from the West, it is important that writers like me try to highlight the brutal injustices of society (Indian). That's what I'm trying to do -- it's not an attack on the country, it's about the greater process of self-examination"

He compares himself to Balzac and Dickens, who critiqued society in their times. Well, Balzac I don't know and critiquing society I don't know, but Dickens I do know, and Mr. Adiga, you're no Dickens by an interstellar shot. Dickens actually gave every one of his characters a unique background and personality. He made even his bad guys more than just generic constructs. And the reason he could do this was because he experienced first-hand the darker sides of life. That experience came out in his stories, whether the lead viewed them or experienced them, and that experience made his stories real, as opposed to yours.

Verdict: This book was touted as great revelatory serious literature, for which it won the Booker. It is for goraas who don't know shit about India and like to fit filth-and-poverty where they put snakecharmer- and elephant. For anyone who's been in India however, this is essentially an exploitation piece, with exploitation being what's exploited. Readable, but far from great.

And Yet Another Birthday

2008-12-10T11:42:00.000-08:00

Well, it's happened. I've crossed 25.

What progress have I made compared to last year (ref. here)? Well let's see.

On the front of anti-aging, still no luck. I still feel immortal, which they say only the young do, but I realize, in the midst of vigorous taekwondo/jujitsu matches, that I ain't exactly what I used to be. Actually, I used to be a sluggish fat slob, so scratch that. I need more fitness is what I'm saying, so rather than de-aging next year, let's set weight loss and muscle gain as a goal. More realistic (Achievable? Who knows)

On the social front too I made progress. I went out on a whole date with a girl I liked. And I don't mean someone in class whom I met a few times, made friends with and applied ladder theory or anything, I mean a girl I saw who got ghantis bajaaing in the head and whose social life I attempted to insinuate myself into from day 1. How did that work out? A "whole date" should have told you where it was headed. I was depressed when it became clear slipped through my fingers, but it's a start. Hopefully this time next year I'll have a girl (Note: I mean a girl. That's what I want. Not a goddamn wife). In the meantime, I reflect on the fact that practicing full body throws the day after the great crunch was so painful as to drive out the emo hurts within, indicating that martial arts have to be improved upon in the process.

Great news though on the writing front. I've written three whole stories and a goddamn 130 page thesis - my prof called it a mini-dissertation. Rewrites pending on the one with the great twist ending before I send it out. So goals for next year - get the damn thing published. I want to be able to google my name and get a link to I dunno Zoetrope fiction as well as Biotech and Bioengineering (yeah that thesis is becoming a paper as well).

So there we go. A copper or silver jubilee of me and this is life. Let's see what the number 26 holds for moi. And yoi in connection with moi as well.

As We Sow...Redux

2008-11-27T07:21:00.000-08:00

Well, here it is. The reaping.

We sowed it by doing nothing when Naxalites shot people in AP, Orissa and Bihar.

We sowed it by turning the page when cops were killed in Kashmir.

We sowed it by looking away when the Tripura Liberation Force and ULFA gunned people down specifically on Independence and Republic days.

We watered it by letting any politically-connected fool get away with calling bandhs, inciting riots, robbing freedom of expression and emasculating the law.

We fertilized it by going on with life as usual.

All that's left, is the reaping.

Bombay is reaping it since Wednesday. And what a reaping it is.

Awesome One-Liners I Haven't Found Use for Yet

2008-11-25T13:19:00.000-08:00

This one's for Tams who like to mix English in their daily Tamil:

"Bourgeois aavudhu Theergaayis aavudhu!!!"

Get it???

Awesome One-Liners I Haven't Found Use for Yet

2008-11-25T09:30:00.001-08:00

"She really puts the 'tit' in 'titillate'!!"

I'm open to suggestions as to context of use. More such lines coming up as I think them up (sans the story they should be in)

As We Sow......

2008-11-13T06:56:00.000-08:00

Desh Drohi is this weird B-movie made by a fellow called Kamaal R Khan. So far, this was pretty much the most attention it got.

As of a few hours ago though, the state of Maharashtra called for a ban on the film. Apparently, cops and government officials watched it and concluded that it would offend the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena. The reason - the film is on migrant workers and more importantly has a villianous politician who ever so coincidentally resembles an estranged Thackeray high up in the MNS. Proving himself to have some sort of data processing equipment, this estranged Thackeray called for attacks on the film screening.

The response of the Maharashtra government is one for the annals: Concluding that the MNS would be pissed, they decided to ban the film "...apprehending law and order problems". Shiv Sena MP Sanjay Raut said, "We are happy that Mumbai police have realised the movie's potential to create law and order problem if it is allowed to be shown".

People talk of the need for a strong response to terrorists. Well, now we see just what the Maharashtra government's response will be. When you cannot be bothered to defend someone's right to free expression from a terrorist who openly shows himself everyday, how can you be bothered to protect their right to live from one who hides ?

Election Night

2008-11-04T20:01:00.001-08:00

Ok, no BS on who's going to win - as of now, I don't know. And nothing on why either candidate should win either - lots of people have done better jobs on that. What I'm going to tell you is a story illustrating US politics.

Going to the Purdue Students' Union Building this morning, I saw a person ask people "Have you voted?" and pointing a couple who evidently hadn't towards the general direction of the nearest booth. I'd noticed people doing things on these lines for a while. For over a year, the news has pointed out how young people love Obama and attend his rallies and so on. Being in Indiana, a hard-core Republican state, I found similar action taken in favour of McCain, and this wasn't anything new.

On the way back, I notice this girl who's taken the current shift of asking people to vote. She tells me "Have you voted, sir?". I'd made it a point to look apologetic when telling them I'm not a citizen, and I do the same now. "I'm not a US citizen, so I can't vote" I tell her.

"Yeah, I know how it is. I'm 17 and can't vote till next year either" she says.

Note the number and voting status there. 17. This kid's still in high school, or is a freshman in college. Her batchmates are figuring out majors, sports teams, girls, GPAs or all of them. She takes this initiative to get people to vote (not vote Obama, but vote), and that despite being unable to vote herself.

This has been the real suprise to me in the Unites States, not the stuff about "a black man cac against all odds become president yada yada..". The importance people - and I mean middle class, educated people, who back home only may have voted, and would then moan about how it came to naught - attach to this responsibility.

Presidents come and go, and Obama (if he wins) is no exception, however much he may be a darling of the media at present. What is amazing in the United States is this attitude the people have towards politics, wherein they guide you to poll booths, volunteer to register you to vote (earlier on), set up clear directions to voting booths on campus and even offer voters discounts on coffee (Starbucks). This, and not party ideology, is what makes this country's offices strong, however accomplished or not the holder may be. Democratic power lies with the people. In the US, the people pro-actively wield it.

The Half-Blood Prince: Greatest Movie Never Made

2008-10-14T18:59:00.000-07:00

[Note: For this to make even a lick of sense, you have to be familiar with two very popular franchises. One's obvious, the other not so much]

To: Christopher Nolan (cjnolan@memori.dk.uk)
From: Warner Bros. Executive Committee (warnerexec@wb.com)
Subject: The Half Blood Prince Script

Dear Chris,
We realize you, Jonathan, and David spent a lot of time on this script. But this is not quite where we want to take the series.
.
.
.
.
.
Attachment: HBPscript.doc

The Half Blood Prince

Int. Gringotts Bank.
Five people in Death masks arrive and kill goblins around. They're masked and hooded.

Death Eater 4:
We're with the Dark Lord!! Anyone move and they get AK'd. You 3, get to the vaults.

Death Eaters 1,2 and 3 accompany a goblin down to the Lestrange's vault.

Death Eater 1
This job is going to be perfect. The Dark lord thinks things through real well (kills a goblin). So much gold for the six of us

Death Eater 2
Five of us
(AK's him)

Death Eater 3
Four of us
(AK's 2)

Death Eater 4
What's been up here? (sees dead bodies) Oh, three of us

He drags a sack of Galleons to Death Eater 5 who has been silent all this while

Death Eater 4
Amazing huh? (Silently drawing out wand) I figured the Dark Lord told you to kill me too, so there'd be two shares. You're dead

The Knight Bus crashes in through the doors and runs him over. Bellatrix Lestrange gets out

Dark Lord (to Bellatrix)
Load the gold

Int. Malfoy Mansion. In the night

Death Eaters meet at a table

Malfoy
This is terrible. Some freaks wearing Death Eater masks actually robbed my vault today at Gringotts. We have to find a way to take down the Ministry

Dark Lord's (Ralph Fiennes') voice
HAA! Ha-HA!! HA-hAAA!!Ho-hoo haha!! And I thought I was a snake in the grass

He enters for the first time, dressed in purple and green robes. His face is pale white with black slits painted where his nose was. His nose has been cut off and scars remain on the site. He laughs and hisses

The Dark Lord
Hehehehehissss

[His tongue is revealed to be cut up so as to fork in two]

Let's wind the clock a year. These Ministry people didn't even believe any of us existed. I mean, what happened? Harry Potter and Dumbledore.

Some Death Eater
So what are you saying?

Dark Lord
It's simple. We uh, kill Potter and Dumbledore. I mean, Scrimgeour, he's just the beginning. And as for your (pointing to Malfoy) plan, Potter and Dumbledore are not Ministry people. They'll act. They'll find you and make you squeal. I know squealers when I see them and you Lucius....

Malfoy flinches.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
Int. Gryffindor common room
Harry and his friends have finished unpacking at Hogwarts. Colin Creevey comes in wearing a magic badge. It reads:

I believe in Harry Potter

Harry looks out the window. He suddenly sees a phoenix symbol projected into the sky, through what appears to be a spotlight on the highest tower of Hogwarts.

Ext. Highest tower

Dumbledore
I need you to find Horace Slughorn. He's run off to Hong Kong and the Chinese won't extradite him. He knows of Voldemort's secret Horcruxes

Harry
What're those?

Dumbledore
Cursed objects. Valuable traffic for the Death Eaters. I've been tracking them. The Gringotts robbery was clearly meant to cover the moving of one

Harry
If I get him to you, can you get him to talk?

Dumbledore
If you can get to him, he'll sing to you

Harry gets on a Thestral to Hong Kong and searches downtown till he finds Slughorn Consultancies.

Harry
I have my mother's eyes

Slughorn
I'll come with you to England and spill the beans on the Horcruxes

Int. Griffyndor Tower

Ron
Wow, the Death Eaters' Horcruxes are known. Amelia Bones is in charge of the case. Once they're gathered, the whole gang can be arrested.

[The Daily Prophet is delivered. It now has moving images with sound]

Rita Skeeter
Note that what you are about to see is extremely disturbing

Focus. Image
Emmeline Vance is tied up and has gashes all over her face. Someone is talking to her but we don't know who.

Dark Lord
So you believe in Potter do you?

Vance
He's shown us we don't have to be afraid of you

Dark Lord
You do, Emmeline. You really do. So... you think Potter's made life better for everyone?

Vance nods

Dark Lord
Look at me. LOOK AT ME!!!!

He enters the image for the first time. We see his cut up nose and split tongue

Dark Lord
You see this is how crazy Potter's made things. You want order in England, Harry Potter must turn himself in to the Ministry where I will find him. Oh, and everyday he doesn't, people will die. Starting tonight..... I'm a man of my word. HeHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEhehehehisssshishishishis
[Screams in the background]

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Int. Ministry Building

Kingsley Shacklebolt
Anything on that Dark Mark card found on Vance?

Arthur Weasley
We found 3 DNA matches. Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones and Harry Potter.

Dumbledore
The Dark Lord's telling us his next victims. Get people to them

Int. Slug Club Party room

Harry and a bunch of people are celebrating. Harry takes Ginny aside.

Harry
You said we'd always be together, once the world didn't need me. Did you mean it?

Ginny
Harry... don't make me your only hope for a normal life

Suddenly, Cornelius Fudge collapses in his office convulsing and simultaneously Amelia Bones' house explodes with her in it. Dark Marks on them float around the exploding debris.

Death Eaters appear at party holding Snape hostage.

Dark Lord
Evening, ladies and gentlemen. We are tonight's entertainment. I only have one question. Where is Harry Potter?

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Int. Some sort of Conference Room
Harry and the Dark Lord sit across from each other on a table

Harry
You wanted me. Here I am

Dark Lord
I wanted to see what you'd do. And you didn't disappoint. You let 5 people die. Then, you let that ginger take your place. Even to a guy like me, that's cold

Harry
Where's Ron?

Dark Lord
My stupid Death Eaters want you gone so they can get back to the way things were. But I know the truth. There's no going back.... you've changed things... forever.

Harry
Then why do you want to kill me?

Dark Lord
[Laughing]
I don't want to kill you. What would I do without you? No, no, NO!! You complete me. Well any, there's only minutes left, so you'd better hurry up if you want to save one of them.

Harry
Them?

Dark Lord
Yeah you know for a while I thought you were Dean Thomas. The way you threw yourself after her.....

Harry flies into a rage.

Dark Lord
Look at you go!!!

Harry uses the Cruciatus curse on him, but he just cackles

Dark Lord
You have nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to do with all your magical ability. But don't worry, I'll tell you where they are, both of them, and that's the point. You're going to choose which one of them lives and which one dies. Killing is merely a choice. He's at the Ministry of Magic, in the Mysteries room and she's at 13 Knockturn Alley

Hermione
Who are you going for?

Harry
Ginny!! You take care of Ron

Both rush out to their respective brooms. A long furious drive occurs.

Ginny (tied up)
Is someone there? Hellooo?

Ron
Gin? Is that you? Where are you?

Ginny
Ron. They tied me up. They said only one of us would make it, and our friends would decide who it would be

Ron (thinking)
It's all right. They're coming for you.

Ginny
Ron. I don't want you to die. Find a way out. Talk to me.

Harry is shown rushing into a building in Knockturn Alley. He opens a door and enters to find... Ron.

Ron
No!! No!! Harry, why are you here? You're not supposed to find me. Ginny!! Ginny!! GINNNYYY!!

Ginny
Ron, it's ok.. it's okay. Listen.....
[Hermione enters her room]
..some...
[The Entire Ministry of Magic building explodes sky high, killing both her and Hermione, leaving fantastic wreckage and making a subtle point on terrorism]

As Harry drags Ron out, Knockturn Alley explodes, burning half of Ron's face.

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The explosion reveals the Ministry to the general public, creating absolute chaos. Wizards and humans are now terrified of each other.
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Int. St. Mungo's Hospital

Ron is at St. Mungo's by himself, everyone else out dealing with the people. Molly leaves Ron the only artifact she could find of Hermione, her golden Galleon, one side blackened and disfigured. He looks at it and sees his face in the mirror.
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.
In the chaos, the Dark Lord slips into the hospital and confronts Ron.

Dark Lord
Hiiiiiii

Ron struggles but is restrained to the bed

Dark Lord
Y'know Ron, I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us.
It's the schemers that put you where you are. You were a schemer, you had plans, and uh, look where that got you. I just did what I do best. I took your little plan and I turned it on itself. Look what I did with a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets. You know what I noticed? Nobody panics when things go according to plan. Even if the plan is horrifying. If tomorrow I tell the press that like a Dementor will suck out souls, or a train full of wizards will be blown up, nobody panics, because it's all, part of the plan. But when I say that one little old mayor will die, well then everyone loses their minds!

He hands Ron a wand and points the other end at himself

Dark Lord
Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I'm an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair.

Ron looks at him hard, and pulls out the Galleon.

Ron [Showing the unscarred side]
You live.

Dark Lord
Uh-hmm.

Ron [Shows the other side]
You die.

Dark Lord
Mmm, now we're talking.

Ron flips the coin.
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Rita Skeeter appears on television AND on the Daily Prophet. She's clearly at wand-point and is stammering

Rita Skeeter
I'm Rita Skeeter for the Daily Prophet. What does it take to make you people join in? I made the revelation of all time and you failed to respond by killing each other. I've got to get you off the bench--

Dark Lord
Bench...

Rita Skeeter
And into the game.

Dark Lord
...game.

Rita Skeeter
Come nightfall this country is mine...

Dark Lord
Mine... ...and anyone left here plays by my rules.

Rita Skeeter
If you don't want to be in the game
[pauses] Get out now... But the airport and Chunnel crowd are sure in for a surprise.
Ha ha ha ha ha

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Ron confronts Lucius Malfoy with his wand pointing
Who was your other insider in the Order of the Phoenix?

Malfoy
If I tell you, you let me go?

Ron
Can't hurt your chances

Malfoy
It was Rosemerta

Ron keeps the wand pointed

Malfoy
I thought...

Ron
I said it couldn't hurt your chanes.[Flips the Galleon] You're a lucky man [Flips again] But he's not

Malfoy
Who?

Ron
Draco

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Snape [facing Harry]
I killed all of them. Including Dumbledore

Harry
They'll hunt you.

Snape
You'll hunt me. You'll condemn me. Set the dogs on me. Because that's what needs to happen. Because, sometimes, truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.

He runs off.

Neville approaches
Why is this happening?

Harry
Because he's the villain this series deserves, but not the one it needs right now...and so we'll hunt him, because he can take it. Because he's not an ordinary villain. He's a noble outcast, a tragic lover ...a half-blood prince

Roots and Rants

2008-10-13T15:30:00.000-07:00

[Note: In containg filmi terms, this is sort of inspired by this post. I've been as original as possible, but if you see parallels, well that's how they are]

"Sub" and "prime" have become the scariest things you could put at the ends of a hyphen. It's no longer recession that the US is worried about, but a Depression (note the Capital letter; also note this is ripped off the NYT somewhat). "Thraahi-Thraahi" is "mach"ing everywhere in the US, to use a phrase last encountered in Class X Katha Kunj.

The politicos, the Wall Street-wallahs, the newsmen, the financial analysts, the pundits, the comedians and the bloggers have all had things to say about the crisis. How the nation got into it, who got greedy, whose fault all this is and so on and so forth. Fingers everywhere are pointing to greedy child-eating Wall Street Geckos, and their corrupt bitches in the Parliament and the White House. The status of the financiers and politicos are, put simply, the same as of the lecherous Sethji's who collect on loans by raping sisters and the corrupt cops who lock up the hero for it.

A question has however escaped everyone. How did all these loans and mortgages accumulate? Why did so many thousands of people decide to risk their houses as well as having their sisters raped (metaphorically)? I'm willing to grant that several people (say 10-20%) were in of money for a specific business investment (lacking Maa's Zhaveraath, they decided to stake their houses) and that several others needed to take out such loans for college or medical expenses (say another 20% to be very charitable) which in this country are insanely high. That still leaves 70% (at least) who risked their homes and financial futures for an infusion of cash. The question is did they NEED it, in the strictest Maa ki ilaaj ke liye chaahiye sense?

My view, and you are entirely welcome to disagree and/or criticize me for it, is they didn't. People didn't need the cash, but wanted it. They wanted an infusion of so many thousand dollars to spend. To purchase a new car, a new house, a new TV, new bikes or to get out of existing debt.
And these, by the way, are people with less-than-solid financial status to begin with. So why'd they do it?

Two reasons, which I see as the real roots of this meltdown. The first is the tendency to buy things on credit, something I see widely prevalent in the United States. This system extends to just about everything. Cars and houses are one thing, but people here actually buy computers on installment plans (Check this link out if you don't believe me). When you have real estate as potential collateral, why the hell not take up higher interest rates for that mortgage plan? You do it anyway for everything else under the sun. Unlike say our parents back home, who (smartly) remain deeply wary of being in debt, people here subscribe wholly to the buy-now-pay-later mentality. This is reason 2. And it arises from reason 1.

Consumerism. This is what drives people to take out loans to buy things they could do without if they tried. The bling mentality is now deeply entrenched in the US, and oddly, amongst the very people who can't afford it. People may need money for education or for healthcare. But they NEED the latest cell phones, jewellery, car models, automobile accessories and televisions. And consumer manufacturers have exploited this scenario very smartly, with their financial options for everything from a cell phone to a car. When a person who is uncertain of whether he/she can afford healthcare is willing to take up "easy financing options" for the new LG Chocolate which comes with Rihanna tunes and an 8 Mpixel camera, why should they not exploit him/her? Thus do you have people with bad credit history who nevertheless go into further debt. Thus do you have people who exploit bad financial behaviour and thereby encourage it. And thus do you have a circle which needs only the collapse of real estate prices to bring about a financial apocalypse. The bling mentality, in short, is what will ensure, that irrespective of today's bailout, there will be a new financial crisis tomorrow.

[Feel free to comment on said matter]

And I'm Back....

2008-10-09T14:26:00.000-07:00

.... If only to announce the same. But hey, that's how it is when you're preparing for a defense and then have to edit your thesis, even if it's for a Master's degree. Mercifully, both are done now. All that's left is to think of something to write.

Singin' in the Rain

2008-09-04T10:54:00.001-07:00

There's something quite sublime about passing by a girl on a rainy day, her arms wrapped around herself tightly trying to keep out the water. You pass on commiserating for someone who clearly was not raised in India and so can't take a bit of rain (a mere drizzle compared to Guwahati), only to realize she's clutching herself across the top, owing to the poor dear's beautiful white summer T-shirt becoming transparent when wet. You laugh to yourself, thinking of how the weather spoils the best of plans and contemplate... Oh Shit, see through top?!! Where the hell did she go?

Damn, I should have checked if she was wearing innerwear.

Bring Home the Gold, Take Home the Message

2008-08-12T14:44:00.000-07:00

Abhinav Bindra is attracting all sorts of attention - deserved praise, and some not-quite-deserved chunks of cash (see here). Anyways, once the last "congrats" has been said or posted, there are some key points to note here.

Firstly, this whole "billion people" stuff. To say a billion people are uplifted by one Indian's achievement, or to ask him how he felt carrying the aspirations of a billion people and so on and so forth, is the sort of dangerous crap that swung the other way when we got trounced at the World Cup. What was the outcome then? A billion people bayed for the blood of 12 men and a coach. A billion people went about making crude jokes about the team's performance. A billion people went stoning the houses of Indian team-members and beating up professional look-alikes of them. It's time we recognized this for what it is - rank bullshit. A billion people, half of whom don't get to eat enough every day and a good deal of whom lack access to radio or television, ought to have other things to worry about than a dude's performance in a sport. Similarly, nobody can not stink when weighed down with a billion aspirations. Sportsmen do what they do for themselves and for love of the game. I'm not saying they don't look forward to the happy faces of family, friends and fans and so forth, but please, no more billion people references. Change channels or beat up whoever you see or hear using that damned term.

Equally bullshitious is the notion that a nation of a billion people should produce a ton of gold medalists. That's like 6th standard unitary method taken to the extreme - if 20 men can finish building a house in 30 days, a billion men should be able to do it in a fraction of a second. Right?

Anyway, a from "showing an Indian can do it" (like we all thought Indians were born with osteogenesis imperfecta or something), Abhinav Bindra has shown the way forward for Indians in sporting events now.

For starters, he's of the upper class, the kind that does not require:

the Government to put good food on their table
the Government to take care of post-retirement careers
the Government to provide intensive, extensive and expensive training
the Government to supply equipment
the Government to send him to places like Germany for training and tournaments

The keener-eyed would have noticed the common running thread amidst all the requirements. Unlike all the unfortunates to this point who have required life-support from the Sports Ministry to prepare, Abhinav Bindra's been able to take the training into his own hands to an extent. His limitations were, in my opinion for the first time in Indian sporting history, himself. And that is the situation where a sportsperson has a fighting chance. Not when his/her training depends on the whims of Secretary-ji as regards food, housing and equipment, and when he/she has no idea as to the condition of counterparts from China, America, UK etc.

Second, the event itself - shooting, the sort of thing you associate with Army men or burra sahibs of the old times. Again, this is an event that allows you to take a lot of training into your own hands, unlike say running, wrestling, swimming etc. when you have to wonder if the Government will provide an adequate training facility. It helps when you can practice this at your own farmhouse. It's not a coincidence, IMO that India's other world champion in a sport other than cricket is a chess player - Vishwanathan Anand (whose only endorsement offer has come from Memory Plus (I think) and Aptech). His training has similarly required access to chess books, a chess set and a clock, freeing him from the whims of the babus at the Ministry.

This is the pattern Indians have to emulate in the future. Let's face it, hell will freeze over before the mandarins of the Sports Ministry establish a program worth a damn for picking promising young athletes and training them to be fighting fit for the Olympics. There are people nationwide with the aptitude and ability to win the gold. But it's the ones who can afford the time and money by themselves to train, who will win. With the expansion of the middle class as is happening now, it's likely if not hopeful that more people will rise in this manner in various events. Here's hoping for the rise of 10 Abhinav Bindras at London in 2012. And as before, kudos to the man.

Fear and Loathing (of self basically)

2008-08-11T20:34:00.000-07:00

Its official.

Our generation has come to fruition. Abhinav Bindra has gone and blazed the way ahead (check his DOB here). Now ask yourself (as I am repeatedly) .....

.................what the fuck have you done lately ?

What is Wrong with This?

2008-08-06T13:35:00.001-07:00

Being first in Guwahati and then in the US, I have this tendency to lose track of the desi pop scene - music, movies, books, etc. I did not, for instance, know about Bhagat's new book till I saw it's review on a blog. So anyways, I did not know of this till friend greyscalp, a Master of the Universe, told me about it. And boy did I regret knowing about it!!

This video made me cringe, as I hope it makes readers here cringe - let me know I'm not alone. Racy boy-girl romantic songs are OK - liking 'em or not is a matter of taste - but this one is uniquely bad taste in:

Making the girl a young 'bai' and thereby of the servant class, a particularly vulnerable position for her
Making her the initiator of this affair, thus giving the hero the moral "she started it" high ground
Try to keep her off saying he has given her the due baksheesh and bonus. The usage, in particular of "fut fut fut", like she's some bhikari wiping his screen
Sexualizing her by dressing her up as a French maid, that looks particularly awful despite the fine figure of whoever was saddled (no pun intended) with the role
Having her demand such affection because she's the one who cooks and cleans for him (hear the second stanza)

I don't know how many women of the housekeeper/Mami/bai class are objects of any house-owner's desire. Those that are, however, are likely to be young, even underage and highly vulnerable (sexually and economically). Dirty enough to fantasize about one, but hey, we all have fantasies that we would prefer others not to know of. To make a video on the lines of this fantasy however is just a new low - the Indian equivalent of calling all women 'b*****s' and 'h*s', like the really bad rappers do here. Not a coincidence, I suppose, that this Ishq Bector is a rapper from Canada. Following the likes of such great Canadian hip-hop artists as ..... oh right, there aren't any, he decided to leave Canada and eke out a living lowering Indian standards.

The only thing I found more distasteful than I. Bector's dirty little fantasy was this video:

Now there's a s**t for the taking, a wannabe who throws herself at you. Why bother with poor, hardworking bai's, Mr. Bector?

Symptoms and Diseases

2008-07-28T18:26:00.000-07:00

It was a bizarre weekend, what with aikijutsu practice and building a dojo bathroom and oh yeah, bombs blowing up Bangalore and Ahmedabad. Mercifully, nothing happened to anyone I know.

I came across this excellent post today by Greatbong. It's a well articulated post on the typical dikhaawa follow-ups to terrorist attacks and subsequent inertia. It powerfully expresses the frustration of having to see our countrymen blown to bits by fundie madmen day after day. And for the record, it is extremely disturbing that we got three major attacks in the summer, when you remember Jaipur as well (I hope).

I however, feel this is a symptom of a deeper problem, one that a lot of people who discuss national security and Islamofascism miss out on. The problem, to put it simply of a deeper apathy. Something that has simply become serious, since we now have an issue that can and has hit where it hurts.

To those who grew up in Hyderabad in the 90's, the Deccan Chronicle was a major source of news (back then it was merely a bad newspaper; now it's unfit to wipe asses with). The front page of DC had a side column bringing in news from outside Hyderabad. While rallies and dharnas featured every now and then, the real news was about deaths in the countryside. And what news it was!!

Every other day a couple of ryots or farmers committed suicide. Through the week, roughly 6 - 8 farmers were reported dead (double during the summer droughts, and half during the rains). Monday was special, as three days' worth of suicides were tallied in . Add to that the fact that whole families tended to commit suicide on weekends, and you could see it was particularly bountiful for the Reaper.

Not to leave out of course, the good work of the Naxalites. Naxalites wished to kill people faster than they wanted to kill themselves, and the suicides would vie with the good people of the PWG for who took more space in the side columns. If it was pesticided-up farmers on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, then it was gunned-down cops, landowners, zamindars and what not on Tuesdays and Thursdays. All in all, the people who wrote up that news had their hands full tallying up the body count.

Why am I mentioning this? Because I read it. Not for a month, a year, or even two years. It went on. From the time I started reading papers to the time I left Hyderabad (and hence was cut off from AP news) DC could be relied upon to deliver body counts that would put Bruce Willis and Sly Stallone to shame. But was any of this acted upon? Sure, the Opposition railed about it. Sure, the TDP made the usual noises. But at the end of the day it was the flyovers in Hyderabad that mattered. It was the fact that there was a new software city being built that the paper elaborated on. And who cared about dead Naxalites or cops when Krishna Oberoi and Grand Kakatiya were fighting it out over who got to host Bill Clinton on his visit to Hyderabad? This stuff was what made it to editorial and inside page articles, not the dead cops and farmers.

That was the paper's view. The view amongst people I knew was either yeah whatever, or "Deccan Chronicle is owned by XYZ, so they have a stake in publishing this bad news all the time". Sure, the Hindu printed deaths occasionally, but they put it in a tiny column in the Nation page, where it had to contend with who got killed in Kashmir, Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and the North East for space. Balanced out coverage. Constantly printing out this bad news was simply depressing. Why did they have to do it?

Now, I am at no point commenting on the AP Government's achievements or lack thereof. I am commenting, however, on people's attitudes. Within the same state, people were getting shot up or killing themselves and their families. Yet, the city of Hyderabad remained blissfully unaware, more focussed on the international attention it was getting, and something new and awesome called IT. When Cyberbabu and Cyberabad were international buzzwords. All this other stuff, was, well unpleasant. Why hear about it. When that is a regional attitude, what can you expect at the level of the Nation?

Hence the deaths of Army men and cops at the hands of jehadis, naxalites and "Liberation forces" reported steadily. Hence the killing of farmers by terrorists or themselves. Hence the high-profile urban crime. Hence the increase in bomb blasts in various cities. And to put in my environmentalist two cents, hence the emptying out of an entire tiger sanctuary in Sariska.

And when we read about this in the news, what do we do?

To paraphrase Metallica, we "Turn the Page"

There's a Lakme India Fashion Week now, do you hear?

The Dark Knight - The Review

2008-07-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

When "Batman Begins" burst into the scene 3 years ago, it seemed amazing and frustrating in equal parts. Amazing, as here was a Batman movie that really did its homework. Frustrating, as well, it only shows Batman beginning. What next? To answer that question, Chris Nolan brought together Christian Bale, Heath Ledger and Aaron Eckhart to make not only the best Batman movie ever, but also possibly the greatest superhero movie ever.

As gathered from the trailers, the film is set a year after Batman Begins. Batman has succeeded in capturing several high-profile gangsters and money-launderers, with the subtle aid of the police. He has cast such a shadow on Gotham crime that Mafia men do their business in the daytime, scared of the night. With a heroic new DA ready to overtly take on crime, it seems Bruce Wayne will shortly be able to abandon his Crusade. But into this mix comes a man known only as the Joker - no alias, no identity and no backstory. And then.... well, watch the film to find out.

The film belongs completely to the Joker, as played by the late Heath Ledger. How effective is his performance? The short answer is terrifying. This man makes you grateful it's only a movie you're seeing. Ledger brings to the role a kind of vicious evil that reminds you of A Clockwork Orange's Alex, Saw's Jigsaw, Fight Club's Tyler Durden and Damien from the Omen series. Even more disturbing, his acts of terror - blowing stuff up and sending out videos of tortured captives - are just that: the sort of things you'd expect from men who sleep with AK-47's in Waziristan or Baluchistan. And true to his comic roots, this Joker has no desire for money, power or influence. He exists only to create chaos, to "watch the world burn" as Alfred puts it.

It's hard to appreciate the rest of the acting talent on screen, overshadowed as everyone is by Ledger. Of the main cast, Bale is amazing as Batman. His on-screen intensity has to be seen to be believed. Aaron Eckhart is equally great as Harvey Dent, the "White Knight" of Gotham. We all know from the comics the fate he is destined to meet, the person he will become. Nolan keeps it suitably tragic, foreshadowing the arrival of Two-Face with Dent's increasing strain and his habit of (playfully) tossing a double-headed coin when making vital decisions. He is equally excellent following his gruesome transformation. I wished at the end they had given this guy his own movie to appear in. Michael Caine, Gary Oldman and Morgan Freeman all do full justice to their roles as Alfred, Gordon and Lucius Fox. Special mention must be made of Eric Roberts - he's her brother - who plays Sal Maroni, the new Boss of Gotham's Mafia.

Nolan makes use of the awesome acting talent and supports it with first class writing and directing. Gotham - as shot in Chicago - is a grim, predatory metropolis, in desperate need of hope. People respond to shootouts and explosions the way you'd expect real people to. Tension is maintained throughout the film by use of news reports. The film tackles real life issues of terrorism - the bombings and mutilation videos Ledger sends in - and the appropriate responses to it - Batman tries to track Joker by hacking into Gotham's cellular networks. As the critics have remarked, you want to compare this film to Heat, Se7en and Zodiac as much as other superhero flicks.

This movie transcends the conventional rating wisdom of stars, thumbs and adjectives. All I can really say to sum it up is - I enjoyed it even more the second time I saw it. In the theater. The next day. Watch it.

Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na - The Review

2008-07-07T19:52:00.000-07:00

"The Idiot Plot: A plot that requires all the characters to be idiots. If they weren't, they'd immediately figure out everything and the movie would be over"

- Roger Ebert, film critic

It was certainly necessary for Jai "Rats" Rathode (Imran Khan) and Aditi "Meow" Mahant (Genelia D'Souza) to be idiots - make that retards - for the movie to last as long as it did. The upside is that Amir Khan and Abbas Tyrewallah id't assume the audience to be total idiots too. Hence the unique flashback narrative of the movie, the significance given to the friends of the lovey-doveys, the brilliant supporting cast of the film and the mood swings from happy to sad to laughable, which make JTYJN a decent watch, despite belonging to the genre of Hindi college romances.

The story is simple enough. Jai and Aditi have been best friends through 5 years of college, so insanely close that everybody thinks they're an item - parents, friends, the college bully and the canteen wallah. Realizing that Aditi is 20 and "izzat ka sawaal hain" (!!!!!!!!!!!!) their folks ask them to announce an engagement, to which the two laugh and say they've never been in love (Parents, friends, audience and the canteen-wallah of course know different). Upon hearing some vague parental fundebaazi about finding that special someone, the two (amazingly jobless for two people who've just graduated) decide to find significant others for each other. Through a convoluted series of events, each obtains a significant other - a very pretty girl and a muscle-bound asshole respectively - to the suprised chagrin (Duh!!!) of the other. A few introspective scenes follow, at which point each breaks up with his/her squeeze, but makes no moves towards the other, waiting for the crucial airport scene where he has to tell her his dil-ki-baat before she crosses the 7 seas to study filmmaking at NYU (There's something striking about the way they mention this Univ AND Major). Phir kya hota hain? The unromantic bitch who's hearing this story narrated by the other members of the gang, finds her heart melting for the weedy gang-member who's fida on her. Everyone lives happily ever after.

Being an IITian is undoubtedly hampering when watching films like this. Your mind wanders into odd questions, such as - What degree do they do that keeps them jobless in college for 5 years? How is it that noone's seen working after graduation, considering that Aditi alone is an industrialist's daughter? Who the hell finishes college when they're 20? Isn't it odd that his significant other is a sweet, somewhat messed up girl, while hers is a mean, womanizing SOB? Why does a guy (musclebound fiancee asshole) who knows jujitsu keep punching and not joint-locking? Do parents really want their kids engaged at 20? And why oh why was Vijaylakshmi Aiyer, the unseen-but-mentioned childhood friend of Aditi, important only because she did Aditi's homework? All tough posers.

What makes this otherwise by-the-numbers excercise enjoyable (in parts) is the supporting cast. While this film was touted as the debut of Imran Khan and Genelia, it also marks a breakthrough of sorts for Ratna Pathak Shah, who is simply brilliant as Jai's somewhat overprotective mother. When she talks with loving care to her son Jai or yells at her deceased husband's portrait, you sense for the first time a character speaking to another, as opposed to an actor in a movie speaking to another. It's a pity someone like her was languishing on Filmi Chakkar and other 90's Hindi sitcoms, when you consider how she outshines all the leads. Naseeruddin Shah, as her deceased Rajput ("Rathode from Ranjhore!!") husband, who converses from his portrait, is another delight. He hasn't been this funny since he was in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron. A running gag through the movie is the fulfilment of the three tests of Rathode manhood, which he is sure Jai will carry out, and which Ratna Pathak abhors the very idea of. Arbaaz and Sohail Khan (as some sort of peace offering to Salman) appear as the weirdest oddballs this side of the Suez, pulling off spectacular comedy. And Rajat Kapoor is again great as a bitter alcoholic father (to Imran's girlfriend).

Verdict: Worth a watch for the supporting cast, though the lead story jumps from cliche to cliche.

What People Won't Do

2008-07-03T06:42:00.000-07:00

Indian Express: "An 88-year-old Nazi war criminal identified as Johann Bach (italics my own) was airlifted to Berlin after he was tracked down to the Goa-Karnataka border by German and Indian intelligence agencies on the basis of information provided by an Israeli group involved in the search for war criminals and investigations in Goa.

Though local police and intelligence agencies in Karnataka said they were “unaware” of the operation, Karnataka Additional DGP for Intelligence, Shankar Bidari, said his office had received information of the arrest on Saturday morning. He also said the alleged war criminal had been moved to Germany.

Officials at the German embassy, when contacted, said they had received no information of the arrest in Goa. The German consulate in Mumbai had also not received any information, embassy officials said.

Reports from Hubli and Goa quoting a press release issued by Perus Narkp, said to be the intelligence wing of the Berlin-based German Chancellor’s Core, said Bach had been involved in the killing of nearly 12,000 Jews at the Marsha Tikash Whanaab concentration camp in East Berlin under Adolf Hitler’s Nazi regime"

Similar news has been reported by TOI, HT, Telegraph, Dainik Jagran, Deccan Chronicle and just about every newspaper save (Thank God!!) the Hindu. Please go over the italicized information. See if any of it looks odd to you - do Germans name camps Tikash Whanaab, for instance? Can it be found on a Google search, when all camps have been well-documented and so forth? Does Perus Knarp sound odd (You've interned in Germany)? Is there a Chancellor's Core? And so forth.

When you are done, please go here. PLEASE PLEASE I BEG OF YOU. GO HERE AND READ THE SHOCKING TRUTH OF MARSHA TIKASH WHANAAB AND THE 88 YEAR OLD BACH.

If the earth should swallow me up tomorrow, I will be happy and sad. Sad, not to have done something like this myself. Happy that I got to read of (a) the stupidity of our national editors (b) people with the balls to show 'em up so.

Heartache

2008-06-20T20:40:00.000-07:00

"You're right, that scene when he says "Would you believe" is simply......"" I don't trail as much as derail. C is busy yukking at the truly funny movie we saw. He is not seeing her in front.

They seemed an ordinary group of Indians. UG's, I'd guess. I hate UG's and desire their UG-dom - it's what I'd go a Smeagol-y "Preciousssss" over. I don't notice her till I'm right behind them. N. In an orange shirt and blue jeans. N. Smiling so as to put her pearly teeth and bouncy curls and scarlet lips to perfect effect. N, who waves slightly when I wave at her. N, who hasn't returned a call or an email in a month. N, who goes off with this group, walking parallel to a tall guy who may the person she may be in a relationship with, based on what I saw of her Facebook page (Yes, I know that's creepy, but I'm the sympathetic figure here).

I want to rush up to her and ask her. Why? Why no contact? Why no response? IS it true? But aikijutsu and taekwondo, whatever else they prepare you for, don't enable you to rush up to a crowd of strangers and question a girl whom, well, you were hoping to get to know well.

I sigh. C is still going on about the movie. I can't remember it anymore.

BHAIN-FUCKING-CHOD!!!!!!!!!!!

The Top 10 (actually 12) Superhero films

2008-06-02T20:23:00.000-07:00

Something for me to write and you to ponder while waiting for "The Dark Knight" to release. The films below are superhero films. Note the use of the word - I am not talking about films based on comic books. I put in 12, based on the ones I've seen. Do let me know as to YOUR favorites in superhero fiction.

Special Mention: Mr. India (1987):

This movie has a whole bunch of elements that thoroughly screw up superhero genres (More on that later). But then some of Shekhar Kapur's almost-won-an-Oscar skill comes through in his plotting, which shows some coherence with a superhero plot: The hero develops a new persona based on the Invisibility phaarmoola, starts with bashing up low-level flunkies (with fantastic names as Daga and Teja!!!), and upon losing someone significant to a bomb blast (I never looked at clown dolls the same way again after that incident), fires on all cylinders taking out the bad guy.

Interesting features:

The superhero 'persona' is basically the same guy, invisible and with a "reverb" voice that no one realizes is that of a scruffy violin player.
Anil Kapoor's everyman character. It makes his superheroisms somewhat more interesting. Somehow I doubt AB Baby or any of the big names of the time could have pulled this off.
Amrish Puri's maniacal Mogambo. There are villains and there is Mogambo. With his deep bass voice, penchant for shows of cruelty, dictatorial costume and island adda (so charmingly lifted off n-number of Bond movies), Mogambo simultaneously terrified and amused the pants off kids who watched this on DD in the late 80's and Zee in the mid-90's.

10. Superman (1978):

The plot was a standard Superman story. We get his arrival to Earth when Krypton is destroyed, the development of his Arctic fortress, the usual initial response ("Up in the sky!! Is it a bird? A plane? etc."). Things heat up when Superman and Clark Kent meet Lois, and subsequently when Lex comes into the feature. As always, Lex figures out Superman's weakness and hits him with it, knocking him out while he carries out some diabolical plan. Superman gets freed, and to reverse all the damage Lex does (He fires a nuke on a fault line, causing world-wide earthquakes), flies around the world and reverses its spin. In doing so, he (I kid you not) turns back time!! So everything is reset and Lois (who died in an earthquake) is safe again.

If you get the feeling, I didn't really care for this film, you're right. I did, however, get why so many people worship it (here, here and here). This film at the time, marked the ascension of something new and amazing - namely, special effects. And they weren't used for something grand or epic like, say Star Wars or 2001. In addition, Reeves, while playing a suitably square-jawed Superman, was equally funny and impressive as a goofy, loveable, raakhi-brother type Clark Kent. Superman served as an opener, something that blazed the trail for the genre of superhero fiction and comic book-inspired movies, being the first, and based on the most popular of all heroes. One could therefore forgive the somewhat campy take of the film; notably Lex Luthor's clownish portrayal, and his absurd desire for land all the time (somewhat like Boman Irani from "Khosla ka Ghosla").

9. The Incredibles (2004):

What is so incredible about the Incredibles is that it starts as a parody of the superhero genre, showing various unconventional issues they'd probably face regularly. In showing their response to these situations however, at a personal and costumed-character level, it becomes a superhero film proper. With its leads - Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, and their children - loosely based on the Fantastic Four and Iceman, and Tooheyian villain, The Incredibles emerged from a parody to a surprisingly cerebral superhero film.

The Unconventional:

The Incredibles, a family of heroes, have to go into hiding and not show their superhuman abilities, because superheroes have been "banned" by the government. Why? People started suing them for wreckage and personal injury, and the government had to foot the legal bills!! Mr. Incredible (the lead superhero) rescues a person from an attempted suicide. When the person ends up with an injury, he sues the hero for "ruining his death"!!!
The evil Syndrome turns out to be none other than the disgruntled head of the "Mr. Incredible" fan club. Anguished at not being allowed to be a sidekick, he decides to become a super-villain.
Syndrome's master plan: To create a situation calling for a superhero, save the day and become a (fake) hero himself. "And when I'm done", he says fiendishly, "I'll sell all my hero equipment. Everybody will then be super. And when everybody's super.... no one will be". To fans accustomed to the usual world domination or a zabagillion dollars ransom, that plan comes in at a whole new level of evil.
A fashion designer who designs superhero suits, and best of all, her take on capes.

8. Batman (1989):

One of the fears surrounding the Batman movie series (started a decade after Superman) was that it would get campy and silly, like the show which used to come at 6.30 on Star Plus before it turned Hindi (That show by the way, was from the 70's. I can't believe how starved for media we were at the time). It did eventually, but not when Tim Burton was in charge of the film. He made the first film with the idea that Batman was a dark and gloomy character, his villains were meant to be gruesome, dangerous individuals, and Batman movies were not to be "children's films". The result - a very effective Batman movie that is rightfully the best selling film based on DC comics.

The film had a fantastic setting: a Gothic, Depression-era city, with trench coat-wearing gangsters who used mainly revolvers and tommy guns. The era however is modern, as seen from Gotham Television and Batman's equipment. It had Michael Keaton as an effective Batman, though he was not really the focus of the film either as Batman or Bruce Wayne. And in Jack Nicholson, it had a fantastically smart, witty and gruesome Joker. Jack Napier, the original identity of the Joker, is played here as a savage criminal, the "No.1 Guy" of crime boss Carl Grissom. The film is good, when it shows us his fall into the chemicals and transformation into the Joker. But where it excels is in showing us the kind of psycho he was before his transformation - he'll never be the Boss of Bosses, he's told to his fury, because Bosses are never psychos. When the transformation unleashes his savagery... well, the film tells you what happens.

The Unique:

Joker's transformation

Joker's campaign of terror against Gotham residents

The amazing score. This film remains one of Danny Elfman's best, if not the best. Sample here (from 5:00 to 6:25 on the video).

2 out of the three above involve the Joker, which is kind of why this film got pushed to 8. A first Batman needs an origin story, and this movie didn't have a good one. In establishing the creepy, malicious film-noir feel of Batman however, Burton excelled with this film.

7. Spiderman 2 (2004):

This film had all the critics raving, and is among the highest box-office grossers of all time. Weirdly, I didn't like it all that much. I don't know exactly why - maybe because I saw it on CAMrip for the first time. But it stuck me as essentially more of the first film. Peter as always is torn between Spidey-life and Mary Jane (not the marijuanna lady) and struggles with hajjaar other problems, the last of which happens to be Dr. Octopus - a dude building some sort of perpetual nuclear generator, to suffer an accident that grafts robotic limbs to his spine. The film definitely scores higher on the CGI used with the guy's robotic limbs. But come on, we've already seen a villain born of an industrial accident. And what is this one's grand goal (for which he robs banks, tries to kill people and ultimately threatens Spidey)? Simply to rebuild an unsafe nuclear engine. How silly is that? What was his goal when he finished it if it didn't explode, present NYC with a monster bill? How would it not explode, considering he probably had no wiring in the ramshackle adda he built it in to draw power away? How does a guy assemble nuclear machinery in an abandoned warehouse adda? How come noone notices what's going on, specially when the equipment is stolen and might take NY with it? And his change of heart at the end was the silliest imaginable, as was his solution to fix the super-nuclear magnetic black hole that he created - "Throw it into the river". Now there's a villainous master plan - create a radioactive mess for the New York Municipality to clean up. Final verdict: Scores with CGI and the everyday problems of Peter Parker (which is characteristic of the comic anyway), but fails with a villain and plot (not to deride Molina's acting, which was great)

6. Batman: Mask of the Phantasm:

This was a relatively low-budget animated film that released in 1993, based on the award-winning animated Batman series which was regarded by many as coming closest to the Dark Knight of the comics. It ranks a mention though few of you would have seen or heard of it, due to the creativity of the team involved by way of plot.

The plot: A masked figure (named the Phantasm on the cover, but unnamed in the movie) is killing Gotham's top Mafia bosses. Owing to the cape and hood worn by the figure, it is assumed Batman is responsible. He therefore has to apprehend the killer and clear his name. A connection emerges among the victims, one that involves the family of a lost love - a woman for whom Wayne gave up his goal of vigilantism, to resume it when she broke their engagement. Lastly, the Joker comes in, hired by the last gangster as the one person capable of taking down Batman. A violent three-way collision comes in, as secrets and motives are finally revealed.

The Unique:

The fate of Gotham does not hang in the balance for once. This case is pretty much a day in the life of Batman, and the people he's trying to save are gangsters.
This isn't about gadgets or explosions. You see Batman being a detective. A real cop-like one.
The insight into Wayne's early days, attempting to find ways to intimidate criminals
Wayne wondering whether he can have a happy, normal life after all. And the follow up, when he decides to become Batman. It's just amazing (the first scene is from start up to 1:39, and the next from 6:15 to 7:41 (Vid-link here)
The revelation as to who the Phantasm is, and the mirroring of the character to Batman
A revelation as to the Joker's origin (Here. Watch the first 10 seconds and then go to 4:25)
What he does to a victim (Here at 6:44 onwards)

An amazing film. Unfortunately, it bombed at the box office.

5. X-Men 2 (2003)/Batman Returns:

These films are both first sequels, and hence in a "We've introduced everyone, so let's do some serious shit!!" mode. Both work in that mode pretty well. They're about equally good, finally.

X-Men:

We were all in it to see the awesome superpowers, and X2 did not disappoint. You got to see lethal telepathy, ice-powers, fire-powers, psychic hurricanes and blizzards, telekinesis, eye-blasting, tele-magnetism and shape-shifting. The plot, seeing as it was Bryan "The Usual Suspects" Singer directing, fit the explosions nicely. A hate-filled General kidnaps the telepathic head and rigs him to a telepathic machine through which he can mentally kill (I kid you not) every mutant in the world. Even more awesome, three quarters into the climax, the machine is rewired, this time to kill all humans. How all this happens is best explained by seeing the film. A fantastic follow up to the original.

Batman:

Tim Burton followed up on the original to make an even colder, darker sequel. As before, the film was more about atmosphere than plot. As before, the villains were amazingly characterized, and as before, there was a malicious sense of humour prevalent that made everything else bearable.

Don't believe me? See the intro, which shows how the Penguin (Danny De Vito) came to be:

When a Batman film opens with a child being thrown into the sewers, you can be sure it'll be super fucking awesome (not family friendly, though). The best part is similarly with the Penguin's characterization - he's a deformed psycho, whose grand plan is to eventually avenge himself by drowning every firstborn in Gotham. With it's morbid atmosphere, evil (really evil) villains, and a fantastic followup score by Danny Elfman, this film is solidly at 5.

4. Iron Man (2008):

There's no "true to the comics" stuff about this - I know zilch about the series. Nevertheless, this film pulled off a fantastic characterization of a character best described as an anti-Bruce Wayne - a playboy who cares zilch about the effects the WMD's he designs have on people. When he finds out first hand who using his company's weapons, he designs himself the ultimate weapon (the suit) which he then uses to attack arms dealers and terrorists. Robert Downey Jr. does an amazing job as both Iron Man and Tony Stark. Watch it if you haven't already.

The Unique:

Iron Man is named as such only 5 minutes before the credits roll. What you're really seeing is the character of Stark
The villain goes by a real name, as opposed to some fantastic title. He speaks Urdu at some point (I kid you not. Amazingly, he sounds like Bob Cristo from Mr. India)
The long process through which the suit is designed, and the accidents with the Beta versions

3. Batman Begins (2005):

With the crime against reason and cinema that was "Batman and Robin" (1997), the franchise was shut down for 8 years. Chris Nolan then decided to restart it. And rather than bring in some fantastic villains to blow shit up with Christian Bale, he decided to actually sit down and write out a Batman story, set in a near-real world. The result - Batman Begins, a look into Bruce Wayne's tortured mentality, into what drives him to wear a suit and go fight crime (try wearing a rubber suit in summer. I dare you). And more, interestingly, how he is able to evoke fear in people, as opposed to derision for some obvious loony (the film presents him at times as borderline loony btw). Liam Neeson was correspondingly awesome as the villainous Ras Al Ghul. Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine's roles were similarly amazing.

The Unique:

Batman is named only midway into the film.
Correspondingly, no fucking bat-prefixes. Bruce gets an armored vehicle, a high-end body armor and smart fiber-powered cloth to design a suit for himself. He then puts all this in a cave below his mansion basement.
As opposed to the fantasy-noir atmosphere of Burton, Gotham is now a modern day city with a huge ghetto population and corrupt administration, which accounts for the crime.
The finding out that Batman has lines drawn in his quest for revenge. What he almost did once, and swore not to do again.

2. Spiderman (2002):

This was undoubtedly the best in the Sam Raimi film series, freshness notwithstanding. It showed how Peter Parker got his abilities (the bite from an engineered spider), how he initially focused more on getting laid (wouldn't you and I?) and how his first shot at vigilantism teaches him about what actually comes with great power, rather than a shot at entering Mary-Jane's
(Kirsten Dunst) pants.

Where this scored over Batman Begins was in its villain. Ras al Ghul's plan to cleanse Gotham sounds more Afghan mujahideen than comic-book villain - that train scene in the climax seemed to me a weird reference to 9/11, what with it headed to Wayne Towers (!!), and if it reaches, "everything blows". In Willem Dafoe's Green Goblin, you had a great villain. A split personality who again stolen R&D stuff to terrorize events, so as to benefit his alter-ego - that makes sense. His conflict with Spidey is also inevitable, as he figures the tussles the two will have. What's genius - his attempts to terrorize Peter Parker's loved ones, when he realizes who Spidey really is.

The unique:

The film's transitions from tearful moments to light-hearted ones. Parker is an emo wimp, but Spiderman a wisecracker with a good sense of humor.
The scene where Dafoe's two selves talk to each other in the mirror.
J. Jonah Jameson. I swear, the film series would not have been the same without J. K. Simmons in that amazing role.
The exploration of the powers. Superman's always had his, so nothing going on there, and Batman has none. When you can suddenly shoot out sticky grey stuff (from your wrists, as opposed to where everyone else's comes out of) that can form webs and stuff, it's a hell of a joyride.

Thus does Spiderman remain the No.2 superhero film of all time. What, you wonder, could top it? Well, the answer is.........................

1. Unbreakable (2000):

I can hear all the wtf's in the background as I write this. I dunno how many of my readers would have seen this M. Shyamalan film. The man had an idea for a superhero beginning, and as opposed to the usual plots for world domination and over the top costumes, made a superhero film for adults, set in the real grey world, with all its usual problems. The film, while a superhero film, is not about any superhero - comic or otherwise. It is this idea that makes it unique as a superhero film.

The plot: David Dunn (Bruce Willis) survives a trainwreck that kills everyone else on board, but leaves him absolutely uninjured. He is approached by a comic book fan, Elijah Price (Samuel L Jackson) who tells him that he could be an actual superhero. Dunn is intrigued, specially when he finds out, for instance, that he has never been sick in his life (!!!). What can he do as a hero? What should he do, considering his troubles with his wife and son? Does he have an enemy? Unbreakable answers these questions in a surprisingly cerebral manner, tackling, like the Incredibles, the day-to-day problems "heroes" must also face. In presenting the realistic elements of a superhero story, without ANY of the usual features (no costumes, no titles, no explosions, the train wreck is simply a flash), it stands as the best superhero film ever made (Ironic, since it is about no known superhero)

Additional unique features:

The explanation for comic book heroes and their powers. Jackson describes the first heroes, whose powers were always quite limited and realistic. It was when comic books became an industry that they had to come up with outlandish abilities and powers.
Dunn's abilities and their limits. While he can survive trainwrecks, he is weirdly susceptible (at a psychological level) to water. His strength is unlimited, but he has to exert himself to apply it (as opposed to yanking steel doors with a flourish). He is also seen to have a funny sixth sense, which is more vague than useful.
His first heroic act. When he asks Elijah what he is supposed to do, he is told "Go to where people are". He finds cause for his act in a train station.
Elijah's mirroring Dunn. He has a bone disease that makes his bones so brittle a fall from a chair could shatter them. His drive to find someone like Dunn comes from this
Just when you think Elijah is a mentor character, Shyamalan brings in one of his signature twists, which while not a Keyser Soze level OMG moment, makes you marvel at the plot.

Awesome film. Rightfully deserving, in my view, the rank of the best superhero film ever made.

2008-05-31T12:32:00.000-07:00

Social and Social Networks

Sometime in mid-2004, there was this fad that seized people. Gmail invites were passe, as were cell phones and MMSes ("DPS Zindabad" was still a cry for perverts everywhere). Something was up online, a new thing that you had to be some sort of Ankit Fadia (do you guys even remember that name now ?) to be part of yourself. I'm talking of course, of the now legendary Orkut, a social networking site that was supposed to compete with Myspace in the US but ended up monopolizing India, Pakistan and Brazil.

The procedure of Orkut ops were amazing. You searched for names, and (gasp!!) were greeted by entire pages containing priceless information about those people - their political, religious, linguistic and sexual preferences (OMG!! Sexual preferences!!) - that you could never have picked up from chatting online or meeting face to face.

Batchmates and fellow students at College were the first to be snapped up on the now-standard "Friends" list. Then came friends you emailed and a few you didn't warrant important enough to email. It was after this that the real point of "Orkutting" emerged - the stalker-search.

The question vaguely formed in the mind would be something like "I wonder what happened to XYZ from school/coaching class/tennis class/Secunderabad club etc. ?". The name would be typed, and there you have the joy of seeing XYZ in his/her full glory ("full" being a fond hope in case of girls from middle school you cyber-stalked, together with "single"). Thus would friends be doubled from 100 - 200 or even more.

Orkut ran its course, and now of course most of the people I know have repeated the same pattern with Facebook. Some, like my brother, shut down their accounts realizing that cell numbers and mail id's were sufficient to keep in touch, and that stalking did not equate to much else apart from fond dreams. But it continues, with new ways of decorating pages, posting videos, having creative ways to leave text messages on people's Walls and whatnot. A funny thing struck me in the shift.

It's one thing (a loser thing anyway, but I was at Guwahati, for God's sake) to go looking up girls you hoped had metamorphosed to wan, well-endowed Disney princesses looking for a blast from the past. I am experiencing the same with people from school, college or wherever, who, while I knew, was never a friend of. We may have had friends in common, but in several cases, shared rarely more than a dozen words by way of conversation (including the damn scraps and requests). Friendship with Acquaintance A in turn opens up friendships with his/her acquaintances B,C,D,E etc., and before you know it, you're linked to the entire Mechanical Engineering batch of 2008 or AEC section of 2001, not a member of which has anything to say to you.

So why do they do it? Why request friendships with someone with no decent stalking prospects? The way I see it, there're trends at play here:

There's wayyyyyyyyy too much shit being done on networked computers now (I see that as I blog this). I mean, it's when you get on the system and have Net access and Firefox that you go look up Facebook for your Wall posting, and it's when you're there that you start thinking about XYZ.
Following on the first, life online is starting to become more real than the real one involving parents, friends on the phone whom you visit, and the vendor at the kirana store. Given how the time people have for the latter is reducing, the e-life which can integrate with work is becoming more significant.
And following on that, people I think are way lonelier AND unhappier now than ever before. It's only when you dwell long on the past that you figure XYZ's vague connection. And that tenuous connection to XYZ seems to me an attempt to connect with the past.

Of course, I could be arbitly playing Freud here. Correct me with your takes.

But if I'm right, it's a disturbing effect of the new modernized world. A bizarre incident occurred on MySpace where a girl's family actually created a fake id that tormented their daughter's friend, who "dumped her". The comments made by the fake persona brought about this.

Is life meant to be that distorted ?

2008-05-02T19:05:00.000-07:00

Conference Prep

"So why do you see cells more resistant in this case ?" Mira asks in that smug tone of his (he's a faculty btw)

"Well, there's adaptation" I reply. That's what all the literature said for glucose.

"Why isn't that happening with extraneous cases ? There's time for adaptation there too ?" Mira is most irritating when countering your answer.

"Well...", I begin, but he's got the upper hand. "There's so many generations. Why don't they adapt ?"

"It's not adaptation", is what all this leads up to. "That data you're citing is from glucose fermentation, not xylose fermentation. So how do you figure this happening ?"

Dr. M nods in. This is odd. Who's side is he on ?

"Ok", I say "I don't know why then. Why is it ?"

"I DON'T KNOW EITHER", he says, like it's a giant joke. Dr. M laughs with him. "The point", he says. "is that noone else does either. You need more data to find out. And you don't need to explain THAT with your poster"

"So", I'm struggling here, "if someone asks, I say"

"You say "I DON'T KNOW"!!!!"

2008-04-18T12:51:00.001-07:00

Wannabe Cinema

[Disclaimer: I wrote this after reading this column and a couple others. Some points are kinda-sorta restated]

U Me Aur: Hum The Notebook
Race: Goodbye Lover
Shaurya: A Few Good Men
No Smoking: Quitter's Inc.
Kabhie Alvida Naa Kehna : Closer (loosely)
36 China Town: Once Upon a Crime
Naquaab: dot the i
Shakalaka Boom Boom: Amadeus (shudder)
Ta Ra Rum Pum: Cinderella Man, Days of Thunder and (shudder) Life is Beautiful
Partner: Hitch
Speed: Cellular
The Train: ......... : Derailed
Zinda: Oldboy
The Killer: Collateral
Humraaz: A Perfect Murder

... and so on and so forth.

The relationship is fairly obvious. Somebody outside India worked his ass off and produced the stuff on the right. Then Baweja, Bhatt, Darshan, Gupta, Abbas or Mustan picked up the DVD and shat out (in the literal and figurative sense) the stuff on the left.

This history of stealing plots is of course as old as the Aravallis. What's disturbing of late however is the frequency and backdrop of the Bollyversion. Not only are more and more films produced every year rip-offs, but they're stealing films that were barely out on DVD. It's one thing - a pretty contemptible thing anyway - to rip off, say 1954's On the Waterfront, throw in "Aati kya Khandala" and call it Ghulam, or 1938's Angels with Dirty Faces and call it Ram Jaane. It's a different thing to make the movies I pointed out above, most of which were made in the 90's themselves. That these honchos do so, shows their:
(a) increasing lack of creativity
(b) gargantuan egos
(c) contempt for the audience's knowledge and taste of cinema
Agreed, you and I are minorities to the aam admis whom we know puts money in their coffers. But we're significant in our own right, and I for one do feel insulted.

The second is the backdrop. How many big-budget films of late have been set in India ? Even the semi-mythical India that is inhabited by the stars of K3G ? New York and London are where Indians are to be found now, though Johannesburg and Cape Town will not be far behind now that Race is a hit (check friend lexicomaniac's review of it). These Indians employ Indians at home, frequent cafes where everyone from the busboy up is an Indian, work in offices where everyone save the copy boy is an Indian, have Indian rivals in business, are greeted by Indian managers and maitre-d's in hotels and even have Hindi-speaking cops investigate their crimes. To complete the ensemble, there will be an Indian peanut vendor when they sing songs on the beach and a white-boy/homie to do something stereotypical. When you come up with an expressive art form - story, play or movie - the most vital thing is the sense of place. Where do your characters work ? Play ? Eat ? Sleep ? Shop ? What kind of language is spoken there ? What kind of people are to be found there ? These things are as vital to the plot as the plot itself, which is where one has to give credit to people like RGV and Sriram Raghavan who set their plots in known places, or find details about Kenya or Singapore when they want their protagonists there. The Darshans and Johars and Advanis on the other hand, ignore the elements of place altogether, giving Indian cops Indian smugglers to chase, Indian men Indian women (even if they're in some place like Seoul) to fuck about with and I suppose, Indian dogs Indian cats to chase. To see films like KANK, Shakalaka Boom Boom and Race is in a way amusing because we are turning the tables on people like Lucas, Spielberg and the fucks who focus solely on cows and "Thank you come again" accents when their films are set in India. We are reducing foreign nations to featureless backdrops with a stereotype thrown in here and there. Nevertheless, there is something mind-blowing (or -sucking) about seeing XYZ rule the music scene in New York by playing a fusion of Himesh and Juggy-D. Or Desi ABC run the number one business in Hamburg, rivaled only by Desi DEF, when we really know they're there because the Western script required a setup on those lines.

Stealing however, isn't the only thing that cheapens the stuff on the left. The real issue is its unfaithfulness to the original. Consider, for example, Race (which I saw on DVD - it's a great if unintentional comedy). The film ripped off "Goodbye Lover". The premise of the latter, however was far more effective than this. Why ? There was no long romantic buildup to two characters getting married, the movie opened with the lead screwing with his brother's wife. There was none of the bull about the secretary making soft eyes and singing "Zara zara touch touch me" (which you need a cast iron stomach to endure by the way), she was abruptly brought in after the millionaire's murder. And the finale did not have a grand narration where evil characters realized their sins and took part in a final winner-take-all, it had all but two characters dead, with the bad guys (and I mean bad, no "I'm coolly Saif-style bad" bad) getting away with the loot. It was, in short a film noir and quirkily good (though overdone). And on top of all this, it was a comedy (intentional).

Why was none of this retained ? Why only the bare bones and some shit about twists ? Well, Abbas and Mustan lacked balls. No selling film-noirs to people who like such films. They want to sell their shat out product to everyone - to Chintu-Pintu, Mummy-Daddy, Dada-Dadi, Raju Chacha, his college friends and the autowallahs who brought all of the above to the theater, irrespective of their tastes in cinema. Net result - a lukewarm product that appeals to ... I dunno who or why, unless they analyze it as a comedy. Anyone who liked the film or any other released (Other than Johnny Gaddar and Taare...) this year, do write to me. Tell me just what the fuck it is that keeps you in.

The latter trend, of taking bare bones and doing nothing with them for fear of what the public will do, is what makes this post title. Mohabbatein wants to be a great epic coming-of-age love story, but ends up a hammed ultra-PG-13 version of Dead Poets' Society. Race wants to be a thriller, but refuses to provide any genuine thrills. Dus and Don want to be slick action thrillers, but are slow-mo wash-outs. Shaka...., oh fuck, this film wanted to be Amadeus, without a script or original idea in its head.

I actually respect films like OSO, Sivaji and the Sunny Deol action pics. The director very clearly knows what he's out to do and does it, unlike these people who're shit-scared to. Indeed, my favorite Hindi movie now, after Sholay and Andaz Apna Apna (both of which did what they wanted) is Mithun's 1998 classic Gunda. Here's the wiki explanation. Here's the film itself. Watch it. Laugh at it. And admire the director's courage at passing this off as a film.

2008-04-11T15:47:00.000-07:00

It Was Inevitable

Well, the Supreme Court is only the guardian of the Constitution, which is itself only a piece of paper with things written on it. The will of the pippuls is sacrosanct, irrespective of whether it penalizes people for the fault of existence.

Oh fuck, just check this out.

2008-03-31T14:10:00.000-07:00

Engineers

Shashi Tharoor commented on engineers this Sunday, in response to a study that made me go ``Holy wtf maderchod". The easy link is here. The study itself is here. It's findings - for reasons unknown, a fantastically large number of Islamist terrorists are or were engineers. This includes OBL himself, the two pilots during 9/11 and some 40-60% of currently documented fundamentalist terrorists.

Why is this so ? The sociologists give some vague fundaes about the Engineering mindset and what not. My take - Frust Extremis or pure absolute frustapa. When you're frustrated enough, who knows what you can do ?

PS: Perhaps Jehadi wasn't the best nickname for Amit after all.

2008-03-13T20:01:00.000-07:00

On Writing

It's been a while since I posted. This semester has been so draining that I have actually had to give up Swing dancing and semi-skip martial arts. If my fear of lasting obesity were not as great as it is, I might have lost touch with Taekwondo and Aikijutsu as well.

The drain's been mainly due to this semester being a sem of writing. I've been writing a lot - either chapters for my thesis on ethanol inhibition of xylose fermentation, which a lot of you would not care to read, or short stories for a fiction writing class, which I'm pretty sure you've read by now - mail me if you haven't and would like to.

Writing classes are a hell of an experience, not least due to the strain of writing. Equally important though is the experience of having people critique your work. Being brought up in this whole chamattu-paapa/gettikaara paiyyan/school smartie atmosphere, I automatically assume anything I write is great - I mean, all my English essays oh so long ago were soooo well recieved. It's a learning and deflating experience to have people suggest corrections and (heaven forbid) improvements. "Why is your story like this? Why isn't it like that?" "This character is unnecessary. Why is this in dialogue?" "Why not leave that out?" Such questions get the blood boiling, the rage of my pitris from Kauntinya down threatening to break forth. It's only upon re-reading my material in light of the point made that I realize its validity - this by the way, does not apply to all comments, there was this b*#@h who said I put too many names when I was describing a wedding.

This stuff is most important when you realize the pressures of commercial writing. You may be a genius. But it's of no use if nobody is going to read your work. And make no mistake, no writer from Salman Rushdie to J. K. Rowling can ever afford to say "F#@k fans, this is my artistic vision". Not if they want to make some money off their books at any rate. To be able to understand what an audience wants, and to put your vision on that- that makes a good publishable writer.

The other thing I wanted to point out for those not in the know; check out The Angrez. It's a classic example of what Roger Ebert calls a good movie trapped in a very bad one. The bad one is about two idiots who run afoul of an Old City gang in Hyderabad. The good, in fact great movie is a documentary of how proper Hyderabadis talk, which is reduced to clips like this, this and this.

I can't recommend this film, but I'm glad they made it. Hopefully, Hindi films from now won't to be about Mumbai taporis or Delhi upper class types alone.

2008-03-09T21:12:00.000-07:00

Did you know....

.... that it's been over two months since I last posted?

.... that there are people who actually read this blog, even ask me when I'm posting next?

.... that a thesis is a headache to write?

.... that short stories are even harder?

.... that I wrote one in this period?

.... and that my next post is probably going to be on an unrelatable topic?

You did? Good heavens!!!

2007-12-16T08:38:00.000-08:00

The Guns of Gurgaon

I read about the Columbine massacre sometime during the summer of 1999, a while after it went off the front page. A feature article in The Hindu Magazine described the whole thing in chilling detail. The actions of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, as they procured arms, planned logistics and then shot 35 people at their school, killing 12 fellow students and a teacher before shooting themselves.

The thing didn't make much news in India. Possessed of the Pardes/Aa Ab Laut Chalein mentality, Indians could convince themselves that this was yet another symptom of Sanskriti-deficiency, hot on the heels of divorce, pre-marital sex, teenage pregnancy, drug usage and homosexuality. "That will never happen here!!!" was the consensus. Not with "Bharatiya" culture and values.

The 2000's began to prove us wrong. For starters, India Today began to publish salacious accounts of schoolchild-sex in Delhi and Bombay (with Literotica-level titles like "Alma Amorous" and "Young Innocence Lost") which sent shivers down parents' spines (and resentment up mine. Why wasn't I enrolled at these Institutions of Iniquity?). High schools were increasingly known for the good life their students led, as opposed to how many made it to IIT or St. Stephens. And in the fullness of time, came the first nail in the coffin of the Sanskritic youth - the DPS sex scandal (or Dhamaka, as some pervert alliterators called it)

There was amazing response - "Moral messages", lengthened skirts, banned cell phones, concerned MPs (why were they not in on this?) and so on. None of which had any effect on two children from class VIII at Euro International (that name itself is a portent), who drove the second nail in with their gunning of a classmate because he was a bully.

The usual people have made the usual noises about "moral vaccums" and "violent media" and what not. About a hundred fingers are currently pointing westwards, decrying the "corrupting influences" of StarTV, FTV, Sony Playstation, Grand Theft Auto and MAD magazine. The victim's family has made some wierd noises, talking about getting justice at whatver cost. The killer's father has been arrested for being negligent with his gun and the two killers have been sent to Juvenile detention. Meanwhile, cameraman have been rushing to find the victims, their families, friends, friends of friends and people who might have 2 cents to put in.

Amidst this brouhaha, a few points seem to have escaped everyone.

Let's start with motive. The motive given out is that the victim was a bully. The result has been a debate of "Was victim such a bad bully?" vs "He had it coming", with the usual assortment of "Concerned Parents", "Child Experts", "School counsellors" and "Rajdeep Sardesai", each making appropriate noises.

All miss a crucial point - motive requires a clear-thinking mind that has a grip on reality as it is. The kids were teenage males. People for whom violent thoughts and words were a staple thanks to feeling testosterone for the first time. Who were feeling angst and insecurity, and who were developing a grip on reality outside their heads. These guys were in a fight with the victim, whoever started it and to whatever extent.

It is characteristic of people at this point to go into "Bastard I'll kill you" modes. During my class VI-X years, I went through several "Bastard I'll kill you" rages with respect to several people - including my brother. What kept me from changing my last name to Manson was:

Sufficient knowledge of reprisals and real life consequence to minimize acting on those rages - when you know what's coming later, beating somebody's brains out isn't as good as it looks when Sanjay Dutt, Steven Seagal or yourself-as-Carl-Johnson do it
Somebody with whom I could discuss feelings and emotions so as to get em off my chest, removing the buildup that needs you to act out those savage fantasies of throat slashing, shooting or bashing
Activities that helped me zone out, forgetting those moments of rage
I was also a wee bit overweight, which made running an easy option (a) for anyone who could see those rages forming

With the exception of 4., all the above require at least 1 decent parent. Even a mediocre one would at least take sufficient care of 1. Someone/s decent would take care of 2, and a good one of all 3. This kid's parents definitely lacked in 1. itself, which (in all probability) precludes their handling of 2. and 3. The precise motive that NDTV, Aaj Tak and IBN are hounding shrinks and schoolmates for is absolutely nonexistent. Kids do stupid things for no reason. That's why they need parents - to minimize the damage and reduce the stupidity over time. Which brings me to point two.

Egregious parenting. No denying it here. Let us see what Mummy and Puppaa here didn't do:

They didn't impart a sense of real life and its consequences to their little laadla
They didn't communicate enough with their teenage son to know there was a kid he wasn't getting along with, let alone a bully he wanted to kill
They didn't, at least Puppa didn't, keep a gun in a place where an eighth grader couldn't get hold of it
They didn't (This is incredible but true) go to see their son when news of the shooting came out. Not at school. Not at the station. Not even at the courthouse where the kids were remanded to juvenile detention before the preliminary hearing. They didn't see their flesh and blood when he needed them the most (till today)

And not content with passive inaction, Mommy and Puppa did something quite fantastic. They absconded altogether, running off to their "natiew pliss". Not until last Friday did Puppa, who was wanted for owning the damn gun, turn up. And upon turning himself in, his first act was to deny ownership of the gun, followed with a call for his son's punishment. No regret, no suprise, no expression of any connection to the boy whatsoever. Truly a coup de gras in the annals of parenting.

Finally, the media. I have not mentioned the names of the shooters or the victim here intentionally - they're kids, and kids at least deserve some privacy. But you need not fear. Those seeking names will find them with a simple Google news search. The school has been open with names, faces, families - they even put I-cards on camera. And every newspaper and news channel has been merrily splashing the names in big, bold letters on their front pages and slides (with Euro International now becoming "a prominent Gurgaon school"). Meaning that the shooters - who unlike American shooters were content to take out one individual and not a class - will never have the anonymity needed to rebuild their lives when they have paid their debts to society and perhaps had a shrink set their heads right. And while murder is unforgivable, these two were kids. Not late teenagers, and not druggies or gang members. There's a reason minors are held not responsible legally for their actions. The media is morally and legally (according to this article) responsible for the destruction of two futures.

Childhood and puberty are possibly the most complicated periods parents and their offspring go through. These kids' pasts can't have been good - not if they led to this point. Their present is a nightmare no one would want to go through as child or adult. And their future, thanks to a headline-hungry media and people keen for 15 minutes of fame, is clouded at best.

2007-12-10T09:11:00.000-08:00

Birthday Bumps

Friend lexicomaniac, whom I am fond of pestering for movie reviews, upped the ante today with a birthday post request. It took a lot of thinking over, but here're some thoughts for the day:

Birthdays Past and Present:
Birthdays were always something to look forward to from the ages of 6 - 16. During the pre-10 years, they were the days you could come to school in "civil dress" (which in some cases, extended to fancy dress), the days you stepped up to the podium and got people to sing to you and - this was way back, when I was in class I at La Martiniere's Calcutta and had a really hot teacher - got a kiss from the teacher of your class (fortunately it ceased with that point, as hotness-wise, teachers have only gone downhill since). During the post 10 years, as you matured (realized how goofy civil dress was, and how idiotic it felt to be on stage for no reason) you still enjoyed the feeling of growth, the increasing respect people gave you and standing shoulder to shoulder with former giants (dads, uncles, PT masters etc.) Sixteen, however, is kind of a peak. It's the point where your cup runneth over, your springtime is at its bloom and well, you grow about as tall as you're going to. As the teens gave way to the 20s, I wished fervently for time to first turn back, then stop and with increasingly feeble hope, slow down. Needless to say, time chose (d) - none of the above.

Coming to the present age of 24, I'm apprehensive about birthdays. They're not a sign of growing any longer, but a sign of aging. I hope, as of now, people will pull off miracles with stem cell research and telomere engineering to reverse aging. Like Bryan Adams, I want to stay 18 till I die.

People in my life:
Another area of apprehension. Wierdly, I was a bit clamped with the opposite sex in high school. Not ''tee hee hee'' shy, which girls sometimes find endearing, but clammy, stone-faced and somewhat creepy. I haven't gained much skill in socializing since. I mean, UG at Guwahati with it's ~20 girls (or rather 20 ~girls) amidst 1000 frustrated males didn't help much.

In this day and age of orkut, when I see people ''committed" left and right, I feel scared about finding my own significant other and fast. Having never dated is forgivable (I guess) through high school, but in this day and age, datelessness beyond the age of 30 indicates "arranged" marriages or closet-exiting on the horizon, both of which call for a bullet through the brain.

Dreams, life and where it's headed:
I'm pretty sure as of now that I'm not going to be a billionaire businessman, a Hollywood actor, a song-writer or a television comedian (Yes, all of those were dreams at one point). I'm left with
dreams of being a writer of some sort, with which I'm making progress and a scientist, for which the PhD is helping. Where will they in turn take me - who knows?

I'm not too apprehensive about time with these two dreams. Writing and scientisting (let's call it that) both take travel and experience, which only come with time. So long as I keep at it, life's cool.

At the end, the birthday is a dry run version of the New Year. It's a time to take stock of what's behind and resolve to make the best of what's ahead. It doesn't hurt, in my case, that it comes 20 days before 31 Dec.

2007-12-06T16:35:00.000-08:00

A Semester of Swing - II

Ok, to the specifics. What did I learn from a semester of Swing classes:

Don't be overtly self conscious when dancing. If you really screw up, you can always join another dance club (I picked this up from a Tango class btw!!)
Be conscious of your partner. Couples dancing requires two people to pull off. It's a bad idea to dance with your eyes to the floor, the ceiling or some oblique point at u = infinity.
Any idiot can go to lessons. The real learning process comes from asking people to dance with you.
When your partner is relaxed, be focussed. When your partner is focussed, you've screwed up somewhere.
When your partner tells you where you're going wrong at a dance:

Understand the mistake and correct
Don't dance with her/him till you have

Scoring a turn between two eight count swing-outs is improv. Carrying out a turn to a six-count is just plain wrong.
There's always going to be someone hotter than your partner on the floor. It does not do well to stare at him/her when dancing with your partner
You may be dancing with a girl for the first time, but don't stare at her accordingly. It's creepy.

Corollary: Be conscious of your partner and not any of your partner's specific appendages. Time enough to (ahem!) worry about them when you're alone

If you'd like to dance with that cute girl you saw at the last class, but are worried you'll screw up:

The fact that she's in the class means she isn't exactly of Elvis/Prabhudeva lineage
Nevertheless, there'll be any number of guys wanting to dance with her, so stop worrying and get in quick!!

If you walk up to one girl in a group only for someone else to swoop in at the last minute, it's not bad luck, it's bad timing. If you stare at the rest of the group awkwardly, it's just.... bad.
Don't worry about the ramifications of asking a total stranger to dance with you. You are NOT going to get any.
And lastly - fast, passionate dancing cuts immediately to R+-rated scenes only for Pierce Brosnan, Antonio Banderas or suchlike. Don't try it at your level, or you're likely to pull a major stinker.

2007-12-05T20:50:00.000-08:00

A Semester of Swing

Back during the golden age of classes VIII-X, dancing was either something a Tam-Bram girl did under the tutelage of Smt. So and So to the tune of ''Thaa thaiii thatha thaiii", or some sort of ghastly aerobic excercise to be carried out as part of ''[School] Day", "Annual Day", "Sports Day" and any such number of days, carefully choreographed by Vanita and Padmaja Mams. Proper free style dancing was something a lot of us bookish types had no idea about. We were told we'd eventually have to do it during the Class X farewell party. And with a girl. Our combined hormones and awkwardness led to a range of responses, the standard being "Teeheeheee" with a foot shuffle. [Mine was a constipated "Haehh!!'']

My immediate seniors (the class of 1998) were possibly the coolest people ever. They pulled off a co-ed dance to the tune of Cecilia, on Teacher's Day no less, with the girls dressed like hotties out of a Salma Hayek movie and the guys... ah, who notices guys at such times? There were raised eyebrows amongst the faculty, and other raised things amongst juniors when it was over. But we wretches, admire them as we might, were unable to emulate when we were in X. And when the farewell party did come, we didn't run up to that girl of our dreams and pull off something befitting "All I Have to Give", "As Long as You Love Me" or similar tracks of the time. No sir. What did we do? First we shuffled awkwardly. Then we looked around to see who'd be foolhardy enough to get on the dance floor first. Then when the girls shrugged, collectively giving us [all of us] up as a lost cause, huddled together on the floor. Boys here, girls there. Proper interaction of the sexes. Padmaja, Vanita and Srilata Mams could not be happier.

The dancing scenario remained pretty dismal for years to come. Most of us huddled during the class XII farewell again, save a very very few. And coming to IITG, for starters there were like 7-10 girls to go round for 400+ guys, so huddling wasn't really a matter of choice. And for another this was Guwahati with the 95% humidity - we got to know our collective BO in like 5 minues flat.

Coming to US therefore, I was extremely out of place anywhere near a dance floor. My standard routine at this point was to act as idiotic or stoned as possible, so as to evoke a "Gosh, you're silly (giggle)" or a "Ok, you need to sit down for a bit". Either saved me the embarassment of showing people precisely how I moved to the beat.

It wasn't till this fall that I decided to correct this situation. I joined the Swing dance club at Purdue - think slow music from the 40's and 50's and you get the idea. Swinging has taught me a lot. Broadly, how to move to a beat. How to develop a rhythm. And how to improvise on a routine without looking idiotic - Ok, that's an ongoing process. It also helped bring about an amazing sensation - moving with a girl (who isn't a relation of any sort) in your arms.

Ok, that is a rotten ending. But that's only to make way for a follow-up post. What precisely did I learn during Swing dancing?

2007-11-23T19:44:00.000-08:00

OMG-ShahRukh-OMG

This is pointless excercise, 2-3 weeks after the film has released. It would have been equally pointless at the time of release, seeing as how all MSM people are gaga over Shah Rukh and Farah Khan. But hey, it allows me to think about a Hindi movie, and to compete with friend lexicomaniac (whom I've now beaten to the review. Poor chap's in Amsterdam)

People say Om Shanti Om is a remake of Karz. I disagree. Karz was about reincarnation - specifically of Rishi Kapoor's character, and the impact on other characters in the plot. This movie isn't.

What Om Shanti Om is is an adaptation of ''The Truman Show''. Like Jim Carrey in the Truman Show SRK acts as someone who is in a movie, as opposed to a person of flesh and blood. Like Truman in the Truman Show, SRK reaches out to the audience, unshackled by the confines of whoever he is supposed to be, rather than to his fellow cast. And like in The Truman Show, the broken fourth wall context is required so as not to mistake the protagonist's actions for overacting.

But, you will ask, is that not the same case with any Shah Rukh film since Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa? No, for the simple reason that unlike any previous SRK (or non-SRK for that matter) film, everyone and their respective characters - who coincidentally are all movie people - is aware they are in a movie. Farah Khan is aware of SRK's Truman-esque behaviour (he, unlike Truman, is aware he is in a movie) and recognizes its potential dissonance (to put it mildly) with the narrative flow of a film. She solves this problem by tearing apart the fourth wall altogether, and making every character (save Arjun Rampal) conscious of his/her role in the grand scheme of things both sides of the silver screen. It's no coincidence that "Om Shanti Om" - the film title - is not only the compounded name of the lead pair, but also of the film being made within the film. Very Shakespearan. On the upside, this fissure in the fourth wall (widened every few minutes) makes Shah Rukh's Khan-isms and hamming (which could compare with the output of Oscar Mayer's largest factory) easier to bear. On the downside, when everyone knows they're in a film, what exactly is it that you're seeing? Greatbong calls it a product, which I guess it is, for the reason that it is something that makes money.

The plot is exceedingly simple - Boy (SRK) meets girl (Deepika). Both die. Both are reborn. Both meet again. Somebody else (bad guy - Arjun Rampal) dies. In between, the whole of Bollywood does an extended cameo in a party, for no other reason than to blur the lines between fact and fiction even further.

A note about this cameo by the way. It included Akshay Kumar in a Khiladi avatar that has to be seen to be believed - something for the archives of YouTube. It included Jeetendra, who looks remarkably well preserved for his age, and Tushar Kapoor, who presumably got in by supergluing himself to his father.

Shah Rukh Khan is, well, Truman with the self-awareness and a six-pack. Deepika Padukone is HOT. I mean it. The only song worth a dekko in the whole film is the one where she's a cabaret dancer from the 70's. She's got a beautiful smile too. Unfortunately, that's about it. She's eye candy, and in this flick, has a role comparable to one of the 295 unnamed Spartans from 300.

Arjun Rampal does a decent job as a villain. More significantly, he is the one person in the whole movie who is unaware he is in a movie. Kudos to him for that. He and his shifty-eyed villain though, are perfunctory characters, comparable to one of the thousands of unnamed Persians from 300. Considering his similarly sidey role in Don, I wonder if he has to shine SRK's shoes or clean his trailer on set or something. Poor fellow.

OSO in all is a weird thing, a sort of Powerpoint presentation where Shah Rukh is slide template, layout and 90% of the content. It knows itself to be one. The question is, do we?

2007-11-19T18:39:00.000-08:00

Beowulf - The Review

One of the common resentments against Bollywood movies is that you inevitably see the same stuff over and over again, whatever the title, theme or (for lack of a better word) plot. Coming to US, I find the same applies to a lot of Hollywood movies, the difference being that Bollywood films all pretty much rank as ''family entertainment'' while Hollywood films tend to fall into several genres - romantic comedy, heroic action, college flick, chick flick, slasher and so forth. Know the genre, however, and with a lot of films you will know the plot. Beowulf is one such film.

Beowulf falls under the "mythological recreation" subcategory of "heroic action". You can therefore figure out several things about it, even if you don't know the legendary Old English poem.

Since the movie is about a hero not in a war, there has to be a hero-requiring situation. Hence the opening fifteen minutes when King Hrothgar's feast, on opening night of his mead-hall is wrecked by Grendel, Gollum's twenty-five-foot cousin who speaks lispy Old English, has the skin of a Ramsay Brothers' zombie and hates the sounds of festivities - he'd have been a hit with the Taliban.

Prior to his attack we see Hrothgar, the drunken fat old king. His Queen is much younger, wayyy thinner and a good deal more refined - clear indications of romantic tension and triangles once Beowulf turns up.

He does, leading a crew of people all but but one of whom have no dialogue. It's clear - Beowulf is going to kill Grendel, just after the monster has wiped out this entire valiant gang. The guy with dialogue might just get in a dying inspirational speech or give Beowulf his wife's amulet or something.

He meets the King and Queen and in no time, the air's electric. Hrothgar offers him a golden dragon-shaped cup if he kills the beast, but it's clear Beowulf would prefer something to put his dragon into.

The beast comes, kills about 75% of the dialogue-less crew and wrestles Beowulf, who wierdly takes it on naked. He deals with it by yelling at it and chaining it to a chandelier and swinging about the rafters and so on - general naked hero stuff.

All this takes place in about 45 minutes. Since it's an hour-plus till the next show, the threat's not dealt with yet. It reveals itself as Angelina Jolie, who can slay men silently, appear in dreams and, when Beowulf confronts her, walk nude so sinuously as to cause a penis explosion. Highly dangerous, this mother of Grendel.

Seeing as it's Angelina Jolie, you know she can't die before the credits roll, and so must do some Satanic seduction stuff with our naked (Again!!) hero.

Beowulf, like any red-blooded male with functional sausage and meatballs, is taken in by this sinuous beauty, and ''agrees'' to ''give her a son'' (Oh the mortification of selling one's soul so!!!).

The rest of the movie deals with the consequences of his ''sin'' (And no, it does not end with Angelina Jolie and him moving in together a la ''Knocked Up'' to raise the baby. Neither am I talking something out of Masoom or Salaam Namaste). Suffice it to say that Beowulf's mighty dragon begets more of its kind.

The movie's motion capture based animation was unique, allowing CGI to blend in nicely with actual acting done by actual actors. But cinematography alone does not a good movie make, and when your plot is so riddled with cliches as to be checked off a list, the end result is sheer boredom.

Ray Winstone, Anthony Hopkins, John Malkovich and Brendan Gleeson play Beowulf, Hrothgar, Hrothgar's minister and the sole survivor of Beowulf's crew. The real show stealer (and, when you see the trailer, the USP of this movie) is Angelina Jolie, who looks golden skinned, flies, has a serpent tail behind her and is mostly nude throughout her parts. Her digital body remains about the only worthwhile thing to see in this otherwise predictable film.

2007-10-22T10:53:00.001-07:00

Brokeback Pottery

Dumbledore is all knowing and intelligent. He's supportive of wizards with odd quirks - lycanthropy, giant heritage and so forth. He dresses in highly colorful clothing. And he loves chocolate. All of which should, I suppose, have prepared us for this little ''outing'' of his.

''Shocking" hardly covers the reaction of kids and parents worldwide - self included despite this post poking fun at it. That the wise-mentor father figure had a functional fig and olives is OK - though we didn't need to know it. But now we find he liked figs, or rather a particular fig - growing off Gellert Grindelwald, with his blonde merry face and charming blue eyes or whatever.

Harry Potter has officially made the transition from Dahlicious PG-13 to R, as Rowling leaps from murder and incest to man-man love. How tainted I feel. I'll have to re-read every scene from Potter that involved Dumbledore and be sure there was nothing gay about it. Now we know, I suppose, why Dumbledore attended all the Quidditch matches with Harry in them. And why he gave Harry all those one-on-one lessons. The Chosen One indeed.

2007-10-13T19:41:00.000-07:00

From Here to Eternity

Literally. That's what it was. A journey from here to eternity. In addition to which, it will accompany me on my own journey from here to eternity..... (Don't mind if I'm starting to sound like a C++ recursive function call)

Strangely enough, I was the calmest through the trip to the airfield. Bored even - that drive lasted 3 damned hours, and when we got there we had to fill forms for an hour and wait for two more. Aurv and Srutesh went first. Both were a bit wobbly going, and considerably more than shell shocked coming back (Grinning from ear to ear though). Jeroen was quite uncomfortable as we boarded. I alone smiled, and straight into the camera (I'll get into that later). Eric, the pro I was in tandem with, backslapped me heartily as we got on. Even as the wrist dial started to go wild I was collected.

About the time it hit 16 they opened the door. A certain twinge of unease occured as people began to disappear into the void outside. But courage, Arun, courage - I told myself. Imagine Amma encouraging you to have adventures. And Appa's expression if you told him 170 dollars went to no use.

I did what they said, facing the door. Rock back and forth squatting. Arms crossed and folded. 5..4...3..2..it wasn't till we jumped right out the plane that the first "Naaaaaraaaaayanaaaaaa ......." escaped

The first sensation was cold. It was cold at 16000 feet, up above the clouds. Then came the wail of the wind in the ears. And the realization that it was wailing because you were whizzing down. From 16000 feet. Wierdly though, this wasn't the scariest part. For starters, I suppose there's no mystery in what's going to happen if you impact the ground from that height. Also, you can wierdly do turns and twists (even in tandem) in the air. Pretend you're Superman till the ground proves you otherwise.

That damned cameraman was hovering with us, grinning all the way. He signalled for me to smile, grabbing my hand as he hovered up. For God's sake, man. I'm falling down. Let me fall in peace. Oh all right, here's your damned smile for the camera. Grin from ear to ear with my cheeks flapping in the wind - not a bad thing to do before getting smashed to a thousand bits.

The altimeter was merrily climbing down. As it neared 5, Eric nudged me. At 5, wind screaming and all, I pulled the cord he told me to pull, "Narayanaaaaaa"ing all the way.

Silence. Suddenly the air's not screaming. The ground's a lot closer, but not charging at you like a paparazzi at Angelina Jolie. I can talk again. And am upright (head towards the sky and feet towards the ground) again. Whew. If only there was something for my feet stand on.

Eric pointed out the sun, now red, in the distance. "No sunset like one at 4000 feet" Amazing sight, considering that for people on the ground it's probably over the horizon. It would probably be possible to see the shadows lengthen on the ground with binoculars or something. The sights at this point were, to say the least, unbelievable.

This leg of the journey however proved to be the real challenge. For starters, the harness needed some adjustment (as a matter of routine) and Eric actually undid a couple of clips in the air. Not reassuring, to say the least. Also, he wore the parachute. So while we were what's-mine- is-yours with the acceleration towards the ground, the parachute belonged to him (In the Resnick and Halliday fbd mechanics sense). I was attached to Eric through the harness, and so was held up, but the result was like being hung off a hook. Damned uncomfortable. Specially when the hook went under and between your thighs.

That adjustment thing actually made we wobbly and I asked Eric if I was attached right. He told me, if I weren't, we'd be a hundred feet apart already. Gallows humour. There's no beating it.

The parachute needed guidance. Pulling on two additional cords turned us in the air. Soon we were gliding more than falling, and at one point we began turning circles in the air, spiralling downwards.

I can't explain why, but the queasiest quease (No other word for it) hit my stomach and covered me in a panic. Suddenly, I felt it would be OK if I only were free of the parachute. If I kicked and screamed and struggled. I had to get rid of the harness. The thing feels like a bad dream now, but it felt then like the only way out of one.

I suppose having my hands on the separated taught cords gave me some control (in that I was restrained). I asked Eric to cut out the turning "It's making me sick, man" I said. He stopped the spiral immediately.

The descent was more diagonal now. And steadier. The ground was looking a lot clearer. There were stalks visible where there was just an expanse of green. And wasn't that white cubical building a spot a minute ago?

"When I tell you to, kick your legs out" Eric said. "Sure" I replied. We were picking up a bit of speed, and the downward motion was clearer. The altimeter was somewhere between 1 and 0, and nearing the latter. At about (I found out later) 50 feet he said "Now". I kicked out and gave my abs the toughest workout they had. I found out why as we sailed to ground, reaching it while moving horizontally. Had I not kicked out, the impact would have broken an ankle at least. As it were, I took the impact on the old gluteus maximus, glad for once to have been relaxed with recent diets. Funny, 16000 feet and you land on your synonym-for-a-donkey. Hell of a way down. I got up, mouthing holy names of Vishnu and truly unholy profanities in the same breath. In that frame of mind, it matters more that you say something, than what you say.

Eric later told me the queasiness was due to my persistent looking down at the ground. "When you're up there, look around you. Look at the ground and you're head'll spin" Verily, a profound lesson - don't be distracted by the memories of Earth, when sampling the joys of Heaven.

2007-10-09T21:04:00.000-07:00

iPod, therefore Isolate

You see them everywhere. They're enjoying a sutta or a book on park or campus benches. They're waiting at bus and train stations. They're driving, biking or just walking around. They're lifting weights or jogging on a treadmill. Any one of hazaar such activities. And while doing so, they're listening to flat little cigar boxes with white earphones. It might be music, a comedy album, a radio play, hell even a recorded lecture. But they all come out of that little shiny box with a bitten-off apple and a metallic underside. While the iPod took the world by storm, it's taken the US... period.

The late 90's were the Golden Age for digital audiophiles. Before Napster got into all that RIAA trouble, MP3's were all the rage among the net-savvy (and I'm just talking about us guys in India). There was no more buying an album to listen to that one song that you loved on MTV. Get the song itself from Napster. Burn it onto a CD to carry with you, or just play it on your computer. Napster got sued, shut down and re-animated as an emasculated version of itself, but the playlist-based-singles-driven music craze continued to grow, generating an interest in digital players that were also a storage unit.

The first ones were uber-delicate 32-64 MB storing clunky little things whose memory would be wiped out when you removed the batteries. Then came some upgrades from America-based companies like Archos, Singapore-based Creative Labs and Korean companies like Samsung. Compaq licensed the technology for the first GB-order player to HanGo Electronics (I haven't heard of them either) which released the PJB in 1999. The competition around GB-order music players grew, until of course Apple came up with the iPod.

The market's never been the same. Apple remains the leader worldwide in digital music players and digital music. There's a few other players around, but no product matches the sleekness of the iPod, while the Apple store competes with Amazon on the music front.

More significantly, digitally spread mobile media has gained importance like never before. People downloaded songs from the Internet. Now they can do it off Starbucks' WiFi. Internet radio used to require a computer to listen to. Now it's on podcasts. People needed reruns or season tapes to catch missed episodes. Now they download them off company websites and watch it on their iPod videos. And Apple's latest product, the WiFi-enabled iPod Touch, lets the user download media without a computer. This on top of the iPhone, which is a phone-cum-address book-cum-iPod-cum-Net browser-cum-God knows what else.

This explosion of media was once an awesome thing. Now it feels a bit, well like an explosion, which is rarely a good thing.

As I mentioned before, music players before used to hold 64-128 MB. the GB player, when it emerged was considered something rally awesome. Given the opportunity to pick up a 20 GB Creative Jukebox, I jumped at it.

But since then I have found, at no given time can I listen to more than about 500 MB worth of music. No period of motion really lasts longer (or even as long as) the time required to play 125 4-minute songs. The only time now that I really use my player is when travelling out of town. How many of us really need even 1 GB of music to carry around when moving about the place? A computer is one thing but to need that in one's hand....it's bordering on the ridiculous (I understand (a) this does not extend to iPod nanos and flashes (b) I'm an idiot for buying my jukebox to begin with)

My next gripe is with the device itself. As I mentioned, music was just the tip of the iceberg. People now carry TV shows and movies on their systems. Again, do you need media that much whenever mobile? In fact more significantly, how do you get way from all that media? There used to be a time when Moms and Dads would tell us "Get away from that walkman/stereo/ television" so we could go out into the world and smell real air, touch real objects and feel real emotions. Interact with the real world and build self (Or as Calvin's dad would put it, character). But when the TV is now something in your pocket? Britney, Fallout Boy, Heroes, Lost, American Idol (replace them with their analogues outside the US) are things that stream into your head anywhere and anytime. That can't be good for you, to have them tinge reality like that. Makes you wonder - does the i stand for idiot?

My final point has to do with why portable media players and their supporting data networks so popular. What is it about being able to drag 2 episodes and/or 125 songs with you? My opinion - the playlist. I mentioned the playlist earlier as the base of the digital audio craze. It became much more than that. While mix tapes and CDs existed beforehand, they needed people, well to mess about with mixers and what not. The late 90's was the era of GUI driven systems with software that downloaded and coded music for you. This era turned the playlist from a figure of entertainment to a fingerprint, first for the techhead elite, eventually for the (still techy) hoi polloi. When you make a playlist, it's your playlist. It defines an action you've taken. It is a small you-zone. And when that playlist is 2000 songs long, you-zone becomes You-World. That's why people carry so much media organized in such fashion with them. They want to carry a bit of their world (which was restricted to such areas as the room or the house) with them. What's outside is a mixed bag. What's in the magic box can shut it all out, and so the investment in a flatbox with wires coming out of it. Something that I think marks an atavistic return to frogs in wells/ponds. It's more disturbing when you realize that world you cocoon yourself is defined by a handful of information someone else recorded. Someone else's world, so to speak.

Where will this lead us? What will it do to reality as we percieve it? Will we have a new "Ghost in the Shell"ish world, where people spend life cocooned in their own artificial reality (like 6 billion one-person Matrixes)?

Who knows??

2007-09-30T06:41:00.001-07:00

Of Phoren Phillums Past and Present

The Indian nominee for the Oscar Foreign Film thing has run aground before reaching the western shores. As I mentioned earlier, a comical war of words has come up with everyone and their brother screaming about which film ought to go.

Was there a bias this year, in favour of VVC? Not improbable by a long shot, given the committee's track record:

2007 - Eklavya: AB-baby is the palace guard Eklavya who butts heads with his unacknowledged son, reluctant London-returned prince (white ewe black lamb etc.) Saif Ali Khan, who in turn butts heads with other, evil royals while checking out Vidya Balan's butt. There's a lot of palace scenery and helicopters and so forth in between the skulls cracking. Prediction: Has as much a chance of winning a Foreign Film Oscar as my hindi vlog

2006 - Rang de B: The most over-hyped, feel-good-for-no-reason movie made. Showed a set of hip college kids who role-play for Bhagat Singh and co. Halfway through, a ''serious'' (he joined the Air Force) friend gets killed. Friends get the impression (it's never explained how) that a corrupt minister and a businessman are responsible. Their dharna fails. They have no options left (????) They shoot the two (blossoming from role-players into skilled and ruthless marksmen overnight) and take over a radio station to explain why. As they're shot dead in turn, the ghosts of dead freedom fighters appear. The nation wails in lament. Credits roll. This was selected over Omkara - not only an adaptation of an understandable-to-worldwide-audiences classic, but a movie with an authentic and gritty feel to it.

2005 - Paheli: A horror movie showcasing the kind of hard-on Rani Mukherjee can elicit from the undead, as she falls in love with SRK, a ghost. It gets scarier as you see SRK sport a Rajasthani turban and moustache, and you're haunted forever when you find out Amol Palekhar was the director of this excercise in necrophilia. Selected over Page 3 and Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi, both of which were again understandable to world-wide audiences AND had a gritty, gut-wrenching pathos in them. Paheli had about a ghost of a ghost of a chance.

2002 - Devdas: Once upon a time there was a young man. He decided to drink himself to death. Sanjay Leela Bhansali then decided to spend 50 crores showcasing his demise. Rather than send his film to Alcoholics Anonymous, the committee decided to send it to Hollywood. In place of, say, Monsoon Wedding.

The committee in short, is either malleable to the wishes of super-Khans, irrespective of film quality; or is phenomenally stupid. Given what we know about Indian goarnament committees, each is equally likely.

Having said that, it's equally idiotic and ungracious of a director to first scream "No fair" and then get a court order challenging Committee rulings. How are they now going to decide the best film? Have court judges or SC justices see both (It would be a unique first for our judges)? Take the two to a Lok Sabha session? Or will they go "Indian Idol" and carry out an SMS campaign? What's to stop a third person from screaming that his/her film was unfairly left out? And in the midst of all this, have any of these films much of a chance at the Academy (I haven't seen Eklavya or Dharm) Awards?

My verdict: Disband the Selection committee and have every director who can, send his/her film to the Oscars. People say films have to be chosen to represent the tastes and aspirations of the "Indian pippuls". Our tastes weren't much to speak of to begin with, and are now confused as well.

2007-09-29T20:29:00.001-07:00

Stranger Than Fiction

It was officially announced - Vidhu Vinod Chopra's "Eklavya" is going to the 2008 Oscars as the Indian Foreign Language entry. The announcement met with the usual "will it ?"s and "won't it ?"s for a while, and would have been shoved aside to make news for Rahul Gandhi, when all hell broke loose.

Bhavna Talwar, who made "Dharm", another contender for the Academy entry, first went to the media telling whoever would listen that Eklavya was a bad film and her film deserved to go to the Oscars [You'll find the HT link here] Once HT, TOI, the Hindu and IE had saturated their Filmi Khabar section and Aaj Tak had aired her views on that "Breaking News" strip at the bottom of the screen, she actually - I mean it, she did this - filed a petition at the Bombay high court, calling for an investigation into the selection of Eklavya. In the meantime, selection committee members, "serious" actors, "joking" actors, Bhavna Talwar, Vidhu Vinod Chopra and NDTV knows who else have presented soundbytes to the media either describing the shadowy conspiracy in smoke-filled selection committee rooms, or deriding "The young filmmaker whose film hasn’t gone..." for "having durrty crab mentality". The latest has been this "Front Page Headline" - the Bombay High court has given the Film Selection committee 10 days to file a reply to their evaluation that "there seems to be merit in the argument that the selection process was biased....." The matter will be decided during a date in October blah blah blah

The truth has not only become stranger than fiction, it's turned into some sort of Academy Award winning screenplay itself now - the kind of satirical one Cho Ramaswamy would write and Farooq Sheikh/Naseeruddin Shah would act in back in the 80's.

Amazing, ain't it?

2007-09-13T13:34:00.000-07:00

Shakespeare 'n Love

Here's a sign of trouble - I'm running out of things to rave and rant about. lexicomaniac sums this blog as reflections, and to my regret, you (or rather, I) can only reflect so much.

So anyways, this post is a set of little thingies going on....... with me rather than the world at large. So, no thoughtful Being Vir Sanghvi today.

Shakespeare. I've joined this dramatics group that can loosely be defined as a Shakespeare sketch show. We're planning a show with little clips from the Great Playwright's Greatest Plays. A feather in Yours Truly's cap is his bagging a role as Iago in an Othello scene, which should allow me one of those evil fourth wall grins that were creepy in Kaun and The Omen.

The role brought back memories from high and middle school. Of a time before IIT, when English wasn't quite English, but well.... English English. Or rather, ICSE English English. I'm referring of course to English spoken in a semi sing-song high pitched tone with special emphasis on diction and pronounciation, when reciting a poem on stage or acting out a classic drama. Don't get me? Ok, put simply, try reciting this, stressing on each sound:

"In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
And such a wall, as I would have you think,
That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
Did whisper often very secretly"

Yep, that English. It's the one ICSE students pride themselves on in Calcutta or Bangalore. It's about as dead as the literature you enact in it, but it's fun. Coming to IIT, where Hinglish was more the lingua franca, and drama meant Hindi dialogue (and names like Kaal Bhuchandi), I lost touch with it. It's fun to relive it.

It's also a reminder of what kind of person you are. I had to summon IEE when reciting my lines. But the rest of the people in the group (all Americans born and bred) did not. Shakespeare rolls smoothly off their tongues. They doth their ayes and quoth their thees with cunning fluency. I don't. It's kind of a racial thing, but there you are.

I've also joined the Purdue swing dance club. Swing is something you'd see from the black and white films they had in the fifties - think "Eena Meena Deeka". It's informal, more fun and a less strenuous way to meet members of the opposite sex than say, salsa or tango (believe, they are best left to Banderas). Neways, swing is fun. What isn't is the interaction with the opposite sex.

It's been about two weeks since the club began. But wierdly, boys and girls are starting to pair up on a permanent basis already. Partner rotations are starting to feel more unwelcome and the post-class dances are seeing fixed couples, who dance looking all starry-eyed at each other. How in heaven did they go about it? I'm starting to feel left out, like the shithead you see in teen movies looking forlorn and pup-eyed at events like this, when he sees the class hot-chick dance with the jerk-jock. I wish they'd slow down and give me enough time to figure out the tricks of the trade and be smoother and less awkward when in close proximity to girls. Y'know, everyone starting the race at the same position. The science of coupling up. I wish they'd teach that in a course at IIT. The science of coupling. Way more practical than the effect of coupling forces on a tressle centre of gravity - D'you even come across such things in the real world?

Anyway, that's life now. Let's see where Shakespeare and Swing take it.

2007-08-22T13:44:00.001-07:00

Below

Basically, I decided to cut loose with all typical romace cliches and see how I could substitute em with some sort of scientificreference. There's poetry in sunrise and sunset and fruit and all that... so there should be in what I've described.

2007-08-22T13:37:00.000-07:00

To My True Love – A Chemical Romance

Your eyes are what draw me to you, soft, deep and of unchanging hue.

I see deep into their core, little sparkles by the score.

They scintillate all the while, no two are the same,

Those flashes within your eyes, like ions in a flame.

I see the crimson of charged lithium, the green of a Barite,

The lilac of ionic potassium, a truly marvelous sight.

Your pupils are truly special, a wonder to behold,

They are so like a fiery wire of platinum or of gold.

Your nose entices me too, to its tip I succumb,

It’s delicate as a flower, yet strong as dry gypsum.

It wiggles with your swinging moods, it points to joy or terror.

It’s like a voltmeter, with negligible error.

So cheery is your bearing, ever so animate

You’re as effervescent as a hydrated bicarbonate

You re-dissolve my fears and cares, when I’m wan and glum,

From clouded Cu(OH)₂ you vivify me, to deep cuprammonium.

You make the best of all you have, churn happiness out of all you see

Like zinc you could milk H₂ from acid or alkali.

You inspire me and arouse me to a bolder, more sanguine state,

You feel sometimes like an overdose of acidified permanganate.

You could be sparring partner, co-conspirator, counselor or me-o-phile,

You resonate between all of them, running rings around phenyl.

Fellowship flows around you; reserve and distance thrown aside,

You facilitate people’s linkages, like vanadium pentoxide.

You’re as delicate as platinum sometimes, to poisoning so susceptible,

Yet at times you’re like carbon fibre, super strong and flexible.

I desire you and your love forever, (not to sound like a pop crooner on TV),

I want our bond to be strong and lasting; like diamond C-to-C

In writing this I present your importance to the process that is me;

In short, you’re the limiting reactant in our chemistry!!!

2007-08-08T19:27:00.001-07:00

Daffy Definitions
What do you feel...

...when you see Orkut and Facebook pics of schoolmates whom all the girls had the hots for in classes IX - XII and find they've become overweight and look debauched and stressed, while you've improved to no end ?: Pleasure

...when you find that not only poaching is on the rise, but also deforestation in the forests, while cities reel with the incoming issues of water, sanitation and power?: Hope

...when you read that J K Rowling, who was born in 1965, concieved the HP skeleton in 1990 and has completed it now, and realize your 24th birthday is around the corner?: ~~Fear~~ Panic

...when you're asked what you want to do at the age of 16, having been told there's nothing you can't do?: Confusion

...when you're thinking about what you not only can but also want to do at the age of 23?: Even More Confusion

...when you haven't written an awful lot for near a month, despite your blog being the writings (of a writer, no less) ?: Fear

...when you're trying to get that presentation completed as though your life depended on it, even though you go to sleep doing it?: Frustration

...from Ctrl+C to Ctrl+V?: Inspiration

2007-07-26T19:18:00.000-07:00

Harry Potter and the Deadly Denouements

The Ugly

When you see Tuco in "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly", you don't know why he's "Ugly". He's not deformed or scarred, he doesn't have some horrible disfiguring disease or wound on him to make him so. He's about as cleaned up and well kept as Eastwood and Van Cleef. In the end, he's the Ugly because he's neither "Good" nor "Bad". Which is what this post deals with - things that you notice, that neither add to nor detract from the book on the whole. You just notice them, because they're odd or striking.

Deathly Hallows is pretty unusual among HP books in its markedly PG-13 setup. I mentioned the intense make-out scenes in a previous post. Additionally, a good deal of violence is described
in the book. Most striking is the language. For the first time, you see people curse about proper (The worst in previous books was 'cow' as an abusive/derisive adjective). Ron at one point tells Harry the situation is "effing hopeless", and Aberforth (read the book to find out who he is) talks about the 'bastards' who assaulted his sister, rendering her psychologically (and by consequence, magically) unstable for life. 'hell' is part of the strong vocabulary. "Why the hell" is used at one point (no rage like italicized rage) and Neville Longbottom bravely says he'll join the dark side when "hell freezes over"

This struck me as odd. The Potterverse is, by and large, an agnostic, if not atheistic universe. The only mentions of religion come during the celebrations of Christmas and Easter through the usual festive trappings of either - Christmas dinners, presents, easter eggs and so forth. When there is no God/s (which makes sense when you can magic away reality yourself), how does the concept of hell and heaven come up? The presence of ghosts (regulated strictly by the Ministry) is about the closest the books come to describing an aferlife. So, how do the wizards understand the connotations of hell? And why do they imagine it as we do, a place of fire and brimstone which could only freeze at the end of time or something? "when the earth meets the sky" or "when the skarnrock grows stripes" would be more plausible exaggerations for a wizard, especially one brought up by wizards (as opposed to Muggle-borns).

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows resembles at different levels, Tolkein's "The Return of the King". Both basically are about climaxes, when heroes and villains are gathered and open, armed conflict has begun. Both involve small, relatively weak or poorly-armed protagonists who hold the real key to the conflict, as opposed to amassed power on either side. And both end with a thunderous battle wherein it is uncertain how things will turn out, and both sides strike out with desperate fury.

Key plot elements are similar too. The Deathly Hallows revolves about Harry's attempts to find and destroy four Horcruxes - artifacts into which Voldemort has sealed fragments of his soul. Shortly into the plot, Harry finds one - an ancient locket. The interesting thing about this is that the Horcrux is seemingly indestructible. Non-magical techniques and even conventional magical spells have no effect on the Horcrux, and to destroy it, one must destroy the object beyond repair. To ensure safety, Harry and his friends start to wear the locket. Each, upon wearing it, finds that the Horcrux alters behaviour, making him/her more depressed, more agressive, more fearful and reluctant to go on. Harry at one point discovers the only weapon capable of destroying the thing at the bottom of a lake. When he dives in, wearing the locket to retrieve it, he suddenly finds the chain shortening around his neck. When the weapon is finally obtained, Ron, Harry's friend, finds himself unable to destroy the Horcrux, as it voices his fears and projects illusions of them coming true. It is with great difficulty (I mean it, I was reading the thing and saying "Destroy the f#*@ing Horcrux already" halfway through this scene) that the thing is destroyed once and for all.

To anyone who has read The Lord of the Rings, the parallels of this scene to those involving Frodo, Sam and the One Ring will be obvious. The two objects are similar enough as it is, each being a receptacle of an otherwise invulnerable Dark Lord's soul/spirit, which can only be destroyed through extremely powerful magic. That they have similar effects on the people around them shows the homage Rowling pays to Tolkein in her finale.

The homage is also present in the final battle, when reinforcements arrive at a seemingly hopeless point in battle (When it seems Harry is dead on the lawns of Hogwarts vis-a-vis When it seems Frodo and the Ring are captured at the Black Gates). The battle restarts, and it is only at its absolute peak that the final hope (Harry reappearing/Mount Doom exploding) shows itself. There has been, in the interim, a good deal of death and destruction. Kind of apt (I don't know if that's the right word to use) that Rowling, who's the queen of modern fantasy fiction (On the sheer basis of number of books sold) pays a homage to Tolkein, the baap of epic fantasy writing. Nice way to enter the Big League of fantasy writing.

Homages apart, however, Harry Potter is, at heart a kids' fairy tale. The story, when you search in your memories, somehow brings back memories of Enid Blyton more than anything else, she of the Noddy series and The Three Golliwogs and the Famous Five and fairies and talking rabbits who, whatever else they do, do not miss tea and girls who don't get jam and cake at the same for screaming their heads half off. The books are about children, more than anything else. They are about a real world, which is just more fantastic than we know - you don't have to imagine a tower and Medieval Europe to get her stories. They are quintessentially British - with the 'propah' speech, manners and tea-cakes (and equivalents for modern day Britain). And they are fairy tales, in ending good and proper with "they all lived happily ever after"

And that is about all I can possibly say about "The Deathly Hallows". It's been about a week since I got it, and the damn thing has got me posting thrice in a week, when twice a month is the standard rate. Ok, that's the last thing I can say. Some book.

2007-07-24T13:06:00.000-07:00

Harry Potter and the Deadly Denouements

Ok, this is something of a pointless excercise. I mean, the book was the fastest selling book in history before it was released. William Shakespeare, Geoffrey Chaucer and J.R.R Tolkein jointly giving it two thumbs down wouldn't take a cent off the billions it's going to make. But anyways.....

THE BAD

Awesome though the book was, it had several things that well, niggle at the reader. By far the biggest niggler (no racist implications there) is plot predictability.

While waiting for the book release I, like any number of jobless HP fans with broadband access, scoured the Leaky Cauldron for info about the book release. In the process I ended up reading several predictions made about book 7. The most important ones:

(a) Snape would turn out to be a good guy after all, because he'd loved Lily
(b) Harry would willingly sacrifice himself to Voldemort in the end
(c) Harry would turn out to be the final Horcrux beyond the 6 destroyed (which is why he'd have to sacrifice himself)

Not only did all three turn out to be true, the book used the exact reasoning the predictors did. Take the Horcrux thing for example. The analyst's logic was that while Voldemort used specific murders to create Horcruxes with the torn portions of his soul, the number of murders he committed would make his an extremely damaged soul (think torn and patched here and there). It would make sense that since he killed two people before attempting to kill Harry, those one or two bits of soul would be hanging loosely and, when his rebound curse turned him into Shadowmort (the popular internet term is Vapormort), they'd disconnect. They'd then enter Harry, he being the only receptacle around. Hence his scar, Parseltongue-abilities and Voldy-sense.

In the climax, Harry finds out he is the final Horcrux, for the same reasons as described at the Leaky Cauldron. This was a bit of a let down. I mean, you don't think J K Rowling's plot would be foreseen with such accuracy, least of all by ginny_potterfan75 (fictitious). And surprise, surprise, he has to give himself up to Voldemort and die so Voldemort can be killed. I wonder - has Rowling been posting spoilers under a pseudonym to raise the fever pitch a bit? Or hiring ginny_potterfan75 to, ahem, help out with the writing?

The next bad is Harry's "power". The prophecy mentions "power he knows not", and as we all know, this is love. LOVE. LUUV. LOVEY DOVEY WOVEY Love. And the fact that Voldy's a bipolar sociopath who can't understand it. So, what role does it play, apart from getting Harry and Ron each an intense PG-13+ make-out scene? (Oh yeah, J K Rowling's put in something for everyone)

In a nutshell, none. Harry's finally defeating Voldemort has zilch to do with love, or his ability to love. It has to do with Voldemort not checking the fine print of:

Genesus horcruxus or Fuin jutsu: Horcrux fujin or whatever that spell was that seals a piece of your soul into something
That whole business of rebuilding his body with Harry's blood

and a series of duels - one in 1945, one in the Half Blood Prince and a couple in this book - that had nothing to do with love. Harry's love-powered self sacrifices helped set up Voldy for aeventual defeat, but in no way was love Harry's power, at least not the power you'd expect a "Chosen One" to have. From the previous book I figured Harry'd either use his Luuuv EQ to beat Voldemort in some mental struggle or make a Loveton: Rasengan or something. Neither happens. Disappointing.

Next, the Deathly Hallows - 3 objects that enable their owner to 'master' death. Their mysteerious background sets them up to be the focus of the 100th minute, the point where the villian's united the fragments and is either in possession of some super-supernatural ray gun, or has unleashed Cthulhu and Ghatanothoa from another dimension, and it's upto the hero/es to fix either in about 10 minutes, before the world ends and credits roll.

What they turn out to be is a setup to facilitate a terrific Deus Ex Machina, and a step short of a MacGuffin.

Deus Ex first. As with the Horcruxes, these things have been hidden (the difference of course is they have passed down through the ages). They started out though, with the Peverell family. Through a series of events, they moved from owner to owner. When the protagonist spends like 340 pages looking for a great Invisibility Cloak, it isn't the best of plots that reveals it to be the one in his pocket. Wouldn't you just know his great-great -great -great -great -great -great -granddaddy was the last Peverell or something? Ditto, when a superwand everyone's been looking for turns out to be Dumbledore's. The super-wand apparently gives allegiance to its owner, which transfers to whoever beats the owner ('beats' is hazily defined. All we know is to defeat in a duel, kill in sleep or simply disarm from behind count as 'beat') This is what finally saves Harry's posterior - Voldy didn't know a weak underling, whom Harry 'beat' earlier, 'beat' Dumbledore before Snape, whom Voldemort 'beat' to get the SmartWand. So when he and Harry slug it out at the end......... whoops, he should have taken Harry's climactic 5 minute wand exposition seriously. And that is what saves Harry's tush. Not love or character strength or Glucon-D.

MacGuffin next. Finding the three and putting them together does not give Harry the super-duper ray gun to beat Voldy or vice-versa. In fact, the only significant Hallow turns out to be the wand,which at the end is returned to Dumbledore's grave. The second is lost, and Harry keeps it that way. And the third is his Invisibility Cloak, which he continues to use exactly as he did before. The net point of "the Deathly Hallows" - Deathly boring.

Finally, the expositions. The Deus Exes are believable, but having them explained by Dumbledore in a pre-finale exposition (How the fuck did he do that? He's dead) takes a good deal out of the story. Furthermore, the final explanation of Snape's allegiance, the hardest hitting part of this whole sordid tale, takes place over a solid 45 seconds, five minutes before the pre-finale finale (the false finale, so to speak). Lot of info crammed into very little time. I wouldn't be surprised if Harry's "scar pain" were really his head exploding from all the info overload.

2007-07-23T18:42:00.000-07:00

Harry Potter and the Deadly Denouements
THE GOOD

Well, it's finally here. After a lot of Leaky Cauldron sessions, spoiler guesses, pre-ordering and fake version downloading, I got Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on Saturday. Those who know yours truly will know of his phenomenal reading speed, and it is with a mixture of orgasmic satisfaction and nostalgic melancholy that I put down the book. What's following is a review of sorts, and yes, there are spoilers, so those who haven't read the book and want to, now's a good time to hit Alt+D.

The Good:
"Good" doesn't quite describe what's positive in this book. Super-duper-awesome or mega-fucking -great, they're better fits. This is the finale to the Harry Potter series and it shows. As we all know, this is when Harry's :

(a) figured out the how and why of bumping off Voldemort
(b) run out of father figures/friendly mentors worth a damn in a fight against him

Also, with Dumbledore dead and the Ministry alternating between (fake?) encounter killing & pretending everything's happy-happy-joy-joy, we know the time's right for Voldemort to show his stuff.

So how does he do it? By doing one of those "Acknowledge me ruler or die" threats from James Bond/Doctor Who/G.I. Joe? By rigging a global Crucio curse to will everyone into submission? By blowing up Parliament and putting the Dark Mark over it, a la V for Vendetta? Nope. The guy's smart enough not to incite open conflict. He simply kills half the wizards in the Ministry, Imperiuses (brainwashes/mindwipes for Muggles) the rest and establishes a puppet ruler, who announces the accidental demise of the previous Minister and openly establishes Voldemort's Nazi-type order. Muggle-borns are to be registered and investigated for "stealing powers from legitimate wizards". Hogwarts now teaches Dark Arts, as well as hatred of Muggles in place of Muggle Studies and gangs of beta-level followers thug up people for no reason. There is no resistance, because, as explained in the book, everyone knows who's behind the change. But this way, it's only whispers and talk within houses. People daren't confide in each other, for fear that their suspicions are false, and more fear that they are true. The fear of chaos, reprisal and targeting keeps them silent, and him in power.

This scenario is interesting, mirroring both past (Hitler Youth, SA/SS gangs and the Holocaust) and present (Dick Cheney, anyone?) history, and fictional events (think of the Party with Big Brother and the Thought Police). When you consider that throughout the series, save the Order of the Phoenix, the state and the wizarding community at large have been content to be hapless victims who flinch at the memory of a dead foe, fawn over heroes without emulating them, discredit those who disagree with the State (Order of the Phoenix had a point there) and be openly, if mildly, racist (the House elves' servitude, the marginalization of Centaurs and werewolves and giants and a house that admits only pure-bloods), you have to realize - they've had this coming a long time. J. K. Rowling has done an exceptional job in showing how a 100 itty-bitty mistakes result in one giant reprisal.

Second, Harry's battle - starting with going about finding Voldemort's Horcruxes and avoiding his traps, to destroying them all and facing him in the finale - is a battle. It is Pelennor Fields and the Battle of the Black Gates (Incidentally in the climax, centaurs suddenly turn up as last minute reinforcements. Coincidence? I think not). There's difficulty - Harry, Ron and Hermione have to live off the land for weeks, and Hermione actually brainwashes her parents into foretting her and fleeing the country, to safeguard them. There's dissension - Harry stubbornly refuses to tell anyone else about the plan, which pisses em all off, Ron is fed up of chasing aimlessly for relics, and actually walks out on Harry in between. And there's the body count. This is some body count. The book has the largest body count in the series, with characters (the cutest, most innocent, most dragged-to-the-edge-but-saved-by-the-hero-at-the-last-minute type, most everything) dying left, right and centre, and in possibly the most horrifically painful ways. Rowling's depiction of this scenario is tragic, scary and most importantly, realistic. At the end of the book, the War's over and Voldemort's defeated, but it cost lives. VERY IMPORTANT LIVES (I'm giving a hint here).

Harry's feelings are touched upon pretty well too, in terms of what he's going through and putting his friends through. He's uncertain and scared for the future, but no less determined to go ahead with what has to be done. Batman he ain't and at one point, you can feel the waves of exhaustion come off him when he says "I've had enough enough trouble to last me a lifetime"
and longs just for his dormitory bed, for everything it signifies - certainty, peace and contentment. There's a touch of Peter Parker in his desire for normality.

And lastly, what's great is the sprinkling of wit that characterizes J.K. Rowling - the little details. At one point, in response to Ron's description of childhood fairy tales, Harry mentions Cinderella, to which Ron enquires "Is that a Muggle disease??" Also, the Death Eaters show brains. When the coup is complete, they jinx Voldemort's name, so speaking it aloud summons them, armed and dangerous. Their logic - only the people likely to pose a threat to Voldemort ever use his name out loud. When you think about it, it's genius.

That's what's good. The bad and the ugly will follow......

2007-07-02T18:59:00.000-07:00

St. Stephen's Fired

Up, that is. St. Stephen's college has finally contracted Reservationia pestis, after miraculously avoiding it through the whole of last year (Which, in retrospect, should have struck one as odd). Anyway, the brouhaha has started all over again, with two major differences.

One, this is St. Stephen's issue alone, so it's unlikely there's going to be the same level of action. Last year's announcement raised a storm (which was eventually contained in a teacup) - this is probably going to be a light shower. Two, last year's reservation plague was brought about by the Human Resource Desecration/Devastation/Depredation/Denudation/Deprivation/ Depreciation Ministry - this was done by the college's ruling board. The reservation moreover isn't for people of the Backward Castes/Classes but for Christians. (Though there's a major plus if you're additionally from some sort of Backward Caste)

So what's to rant and rave about?

The thing that differentiates the debate in this case from the usual Tooheyian vs. Galtian/Roarkian fights is the point the college board makes (led by some dude named Thampu. Anybody from Gitanjali here?) - the college started as a missionary-backed institute with the aim of educating Christians (and possibly producing more) and uplifting them; them as in 'Ctrl+I' them or simply, them alone. It's the Most Holy Trinity and its believers who back the institute, not the Almighty state or the students. So why shouldn't they decide who they let in or uplift or whatever?

Strange as it may sound, this point seems valid. Given that a college was started with a purpose by a specific group of people, why shouldn't it function for them alone? Sure, you'd wish these chaps would bring their arguments completely out of the closet (Thampu says “Academic excellence in St Stephen’s in recent decades has almost become a smokescreen for masking the privileges of the socio-economic elite” thus smokescreening his own view) but that's to do with the people making the point rather than the point itself. And this isn't restricted to "durrty paalitics"-plagued India. Purdue for instance, is affiliated somehow to the State of Indiana, and has to attract students from Indiana. They offer incentives for Indianans to come here and people are pissed if there're too many people from any place else (India or Illinois, Oregon or Ouagadougou) Same founding logic.

The bizarre dichotomy this reveals is this: Opening up any sort of institution dependent on individual and creative minds to the population at large is important for it to flourish. But at what point do you hold a restriction? I mean, imagine if tomorrow all world class institutes opened up completely, so anyone from anyplace could apply with an equal probability/passage of entry (JEE type stuff). Imagine IIT with a population of 40-60% smart Russians, Chinese, Brazilians, Americans whatever. There'd be an enquiry as to the "Indian" in it. Or what if Harvard were so filled with smart people from all over the place that Alex Worthington, whose dad built the Worthington Drama Hall, just couldn't make it in? The WASPs would unsheath their stings. And be justified in doing so too. So firstly, to what extent do you open up?

Conversely, to what extent is it OK for an institute to close up? To keep St. Stephens for those who frame John 3:16 on their walls or Purdue for people with the "Hoosier" gene or something? Those who started such institutions for their respective communities, do they have the right to render it unviable through such extreme measures?

Quite a conundrum - that's point 1. And two, Barkha Dutt was all bleeding hearts afire for the OBCs and denouncing the protesters's apathy towards OBC conditions and what not (she was justified in denouncing their abusive language though). Now that St. Stephen's going to have seats reserved in it she's gone and written this.

Tells you a lot, don't it?

2007-06-22T17:05:00.000-07:00

Why do they suck??

It's a funny thing with Hollywood releases this year. The summer releases are all sequels. And not just sequels, they're part three sequels (trilogy sequels, if you will) and with one noticeable exception, they all suck. I mean SUCK!!!!!

My first premonition of things to come this summer was when I watched 'Spiderman 3'. I saw it the Sunday after it released. 30 minutes into the storyline came this scene - Peter's talking about how tough being Spiderman is to his increasingly jaded Mary Jane, when this girl who'd kissed him upside down (himself upside down) during a Spidey-honouring ceremony turns up AND turns out to be an old friend of Parker's. May Jane transitions from bored to bilious, shrieking "How could you kiss HER upside down? That was OUR kiss!!" and storms off in a huff. The scene significantly marked the first "What the f#@$!!!". More wtf's followed, with a count of possibly 40 by the time the movie was done. And this, mind you comes from yours truly, whom you all know believes Kalki or Christ, when they choose to save the world, will arrive swinging off weblines in red and blue tights. 'Let down' would be the understatement of the year, as far as the movie goes. Suffice it to say Sam Raimi and Topher Grace had best keep away from Comic Book Conventions for the next couple of decades. I can't imagine any Spidey fan not wanting to throw webs or goblin gas or chappals at them.

The next blockbuster was "Ocean's 13". While not sucking per se, it was something of a disappointment. Cast - the same as 11 and 12, save for Julia Robert's (thankful) absence. Eddie Izzard turns up as a replacement, but his role is minimal, as is Andy Garcia's as no. 13. Plot - the same as Ocean's 11. In fact, I might say the plot's a better version of Ocean's 11. They want revenge on Al Pacino, so they pull off a giant complicated scheme. Sure, the scheme was an intricate, twisty-turny thing, but so was the one in 11. Is a sequel supposed to be a piece in its own right, or simply a photocopy of an original? So the disappointment.

The third and most recent disappointment, was "Pirates.......bean: At World's End". While the first was neat and the second a maze that left you wondering as to the conclusion, this damn thing was simply an excuse to continue cashing in on Jack Sparrow t-shirts, Black Pearl rides and Davy Jones mugs. Following the initial 40 minutes, which the protagonists spend sailing to World's End (Get it? At World's End?), there follow a humongous set of double-crosses, locale shifts, exchanges of "Arrrgh"s and similar pirate jargon and to top it all off, a long speech by Keira Knightly about how even a few "free" men can fight evil conquerors and at the very least make an ending that is worth remembering, the kind that's delivered when your enemies are 7 foot tall dudes in moving thrones carried by hundreds of slaves. "Freedom" is somehow starting to become to America what Peking duck is to China.

When you think about it, this applies to most second sequels in the past few years. The Matrix Reloaded provided an interesting premise, but Revolutions turned out to be a philosophical-cyberpunk mush. Star Wars Episodes I and II sucked, and so did III, so not much of a disappointment there. Shrek 3 has been touted as dismal in comparison to 1 and 2. X-Men 3 was god-awful (my first post here panned it). "Return of the King" alone, has not sucked.

So why is it? Why are Pirates 3 and Spiderman 3 and Shrek 3 only marginally better than, I dunno.... Sivaji??

2007-06-14T18:36:00.001-07:00

A Nod to Pandora

Having returned from a month in India, I've decided to emulate Esoteric Pandora, in comparing USA and India. While I did miss the country as a whole, I had no inclination to sing "Yeh mera India!! I love my India" upon landing. So anyway, here's my contrast of India and the US:

Things I was glad to go home to:
- Mangoes: This was summer, and the mangoes were a bumper crop this year. And Thainadu being Thainadu, I could cut a mango into two large slices and shove my upper jaw into each till the juice ran down my chin. (I'm still talking about fruit here btw, so VP don't get all suggestive imagery HAW!! HAW!!)

- Vegetables: I think I could count the various vegetables I've consumed over the past year on the fingers of one hand. Non-veg is fine as an occasional outside thing, but the TamBram stomach calls out for home made vegetarian sappadu. At long last, non-meaty things that aren't either boiled, served cold, mashed or served on a pizza/burrito!!! At long last, carrots and beans with coconut and chow-chow koottu and bhindi and vayakkai and fried chepangkayangu and keerai molaguttal and paruppu usuli. And my two all time favourites - masala-laden fried potatoes (the way Mom makes it) and Aviyal (the way anyone makes it). I spurned non-veg by and large over my trip. Screw meat, I can swim in it here. Vegetables and rice are what you return home for.

- Relegation: One of the things that makes life in America so character-building and strengthening, and thereby most unpleasant, is the need to do everything oneself. One has to cook one's own meals, make one's own coffee, iron one's own clothes, drive one's own car....... Being in the lap of middle class luxury was something else - a driver and car on call, somebody to clean the room and smooth the sheets and make the coffee and do just about anything else you can think of...Maybe if enough Mexicans come on over, I can have a 'maami' (the Mexican term is vieja tía, I believe) and driver of my own up here.

- Not having to go to a Wal-Mart or Costco or whatever. I mean, walk 10 minutes down the lane and there, you have Krishnan Provisions, or Satyam Kirana Stores or Singapore Shoppee or Gopal General Store. Beats the hell out of searching through a football field-size obstacle course for a packet of biscuits

- Carnatic music and shlokas: They sound pleasant at 5.00 am, sort of a feel-good "Brand New Day" thing

- Coffee: I mean coffee, the kind you set the decoction to half an hour earlier and have between 6.30 and 7.00 am in a stainless steel tumbler when reading The Hindu. Does wonders for constipation

- Haircuts that cost between 50 cents and 2 dollars

- Trips to Landmark for a good long browse

Things I'm glad to get back to here:

- Roads that don't have cracked pavements with reeking open drains below

- The assurance that the guy in the next lane will be prosecuted/sued properly in the event of a car crash and will therefore NOT get in your way

- Not needing cash for most things

- Broadband that's actually broad; and wi-fi too

- The cheap price of electronics

- Ice cream with genuinely exotic flavours

2007-05-07T15:45:00.000-07:00

Most Disturbing

Being in High School was something of an advantage for liberals and right-thinkers (as in thinking correctly, not Right) back during the beginning of the new millennium. A number of things were changing, and most significant politically was the Govt's open advocacy of Hindutva.

The Ram Janmabhoomi thing was the stuff of the hour. People talked day in and day out about the need to build the temple to Rama there. Guys like Ashok Singhal, Praveen Togadia and Giriraj Kishore became in a certain sense, household names. Their message of rebuilding long-lost/razed down temples wherever there was a mosque or church, was simultaneously comical and frightening, like Mark Hamill's version of the Joker.

Cultural feeling, I suppose, grew. Indian culture was no longer the vaguely defined sum total of everyone's customs and aesthetics but some sort of maiden with a handful of Sanskrit names (foremost of which was sankriti) dressed in the light diaphanous material of the care of the elderly and protected by her strong elder sister who wore a chastity belt and armour of saffronium. This maiden had to be constantly surrounded, watched and protected 24x7, from the vile lascivious gang of 'phorens' - phoren books, movies, English, clothes and customs (read Valentine's day) - who, given the slightest opportunity, would gang-bang it, double-penetrate it, and force it to lick the filthy semen off their foul alien phoren penises. Hence the desperate rush to burn shops on Valentine's day, smash sets when films were deemed offensive, scream hoarse when any Westerner spoke about Indian culture, and start teaching astrology and Vedic science in school.

More significantly, the concept of national feeling as a whole grew. I hate to say it, but it did. From Vajpayee to the city-level BJP thug, whoever spoke in the media talked of us as a nation and concluded with "Mera/Hamara Bharat Mahaan" and "Jai Hind" - so much so that school assembly speeches and debates began to resemble some sort of B-grade British era pic. The saffron brigade wanted everyone to love saffron, white and green with the kind of choking intensity that you normally keep off with a restraining order, or associate with "K..k..k..k..kiran"

What was odd and disturbing was what defined a nation, and what defined loving it. I heard of the slogan "Hindu Hindi Hindustan" only recently, but though it may not have been said explicitly, it was certainly implicit. True patriotic Indians were people who collectively rejected Western culture - either by vandalizing Hallmarks on Valentine's day in real life, or denouncing it in films that did not invite empty and vandalized theatres. True India-lovers were the people who railed at Pakistan not being nuked back into the Stone Age (though in their defense, I hated Pakistan and everything to do with it after Kargil), and who hated the agents of Pakistan, the Muslims. The Muslims who could be everywhere and anywhere, who spread their seed across their many wives and bred children so they could eventually take over India by sheer weight of numbers, and who plotted terrorist attacks to integrate Kashmir with their brethren across the LoC (post 9/11, terrorist attacks simply to express their Muslim-ness). They had to be stopped. True Indians were the ones who contributed to that stoppage, whether by way of beating up inter-religious couples, 're-converting' lost children who took up this vile identity centuries ago when the foul Muslims came with their swords and cannon to this benign peace-loving land of milk and honey and sanskriti, or railing against them 24x7. The cream of the crop were those who, righteously angry with this foul species that had so infested Ahmedabad, saved them the trouble of existence and burnt down their homes, hacked them to pieces and raped their women (doubtless blessing them with their seed) while simultaneously convincing the Gujarati police and judiciary to keep their eyes wide shut (never mind look the other way). Gave a whole new meaning to "the scum rises to the top too".

Like I said, this was a good time for a liberal to be in high school (specially an ICSE school, which subscribed to non-NCERT books and was unaffected by the requirements for Vedic Science, astrology or the new theory that Indians spread into the rest of the world, where they were called Aryans) It allowed one to be sheltered from the hate plague to an extent (though I am certain one of my friends is infected pretty strongly). It allowed one to be righteously angry and argue it out with people. It allowed me to ask adults about the realpolitik of such things and only get "you're only a kid" by way of reprimand. It allowed us to develop our opinions strongly in opposition to this stuff and hopefully influence those about us who were more strongly exposed to Hateplagus saffronicus.

Ok, so what? All I've done so far is somewhat colourfully let off some steam.

The thing that's the real focus of my post is the prevalence of this attitude sans the government that inculcated it. It's something I've come across to disturbing extents. Look in the Net. Look in the Indian blogosphere. Search for blog results on anything involving Hindus and/or India. Look up Rediff columns that pertain in any remote since to socio-cultural and secular issues, and you will find the same attitude. The same principles and excuses. Hell, even similar names like proud_hindu and indian2007.

When there's news on films being objectionable to some Hindus, you will find these people challenging the director to make films objectionable to Muslims. When there is mention of caste and conversion politics, you will see great_hindu and his ilk talking of how Hinduism is on the wane due to people's apathy and the machinations of the Abrahamic faiths. When newspapers decry people's illiberality, you see them denounce the newspaper's liberality as left-biased, elitist, pseudo-secular (whatever the fuck that means) or ass-kissy, or a mixture of all. They demand to be able to order death threats and riots when any person upsets "Hindu sentiments" - don't Muslims issue fatwas when they see cartoons? And whenever there is discussion of plurality, you will find them posting crap like this.

All this has come to be without the delightful aid of the BJP,RSS or any other centralized organization. The stuff you see is the product of Netizen-activists, essentially armchair theorists and haters who have no idea of the world as it is, or as genuine right wingers want it to be. But they are nevertheless dangerous. With the rise of people like this, who go the extent of saying freedom of speech is overrated, and must be curbed when appropriate, two questions come in:

(a) The right wingers of the early 2000's essentially fucked the vision of a plural India as envisioned by Gandhi and Nehru with their Godhra and their anti-Conversion bills. We could all assuage our conscience by saying we had nothing to do with it, the VHP/RSS account for the opinions of a small percentage of Hindus and by virtue of that, we are innocent (which is fake anyway) But with this new network of Netizen Nazis, how true is that assumption?

(b) The true strength of the people of Al Quaeda and Lashkar e-Tayibba is their decentralization, which in turn has come from the dissemination of their ideas. It took them 40 years of dissemination and a lot of arms-dealing in recent times to reach their present status as faceless threat. If somebody starts with the Net as the source of his or her ideas, they'll probably achieve the same in one tenth the time. Do we really want to eventually confront the suicide bombers of the "Dharma Sena" or something like it?

I dunno what can be done to stop this trend (nice, maader spent so much time talking about it and no solution finally) I suppose we can all worry about it

2007-04-07T13:17:00.000-07:00

The Bloghouse Continued... more Arbit Thoughts of an Arbit Fellow

Ok, this wasn't exactly back to back, and there are no zombies or slashers, but never mind.

Thought II: How in Control are We ?

It happened yesterday when I was returning from Taekwondo practice. A windy day with temperature close to zero. I was all wrapped up in a hooded sweatshirt, rain-jacket (there was possibility of rain), monkey cap and muffler. Add gloves and a pair of tkd pants and you have yourself quite an ensemble I suppose.

Anyway, I was at the main road, waiting for the light to change. And, as is my wont, I waited for it in a sort of eyes-open stupor, wonder whether Zahhak would be a good idea for a comic villain, or Macbeth would be good in the Hitchhiker's Guide, as a sort of ancillary character, when I made out "..eat this SHEEIT!!" with a secondary "Haha!!" and a couple of things whizzed past. One missed altogether, while the other brushed the jacket and dropped by my bike. I could barely make out a car with 4 people in it, as they turned around the corner and went out of sight. They threw chewed fruit rind or something.

I'm relieved. Whatever they threw, it missed. I wasn't hurt or humiliated in any way. But I'm also angry. I'm hurt and I'm outraged. And the target of a good deal of my anger is myself. I take jujitsu and taekwondo lessons for situations like this. You want to be prepared when a mugger comes at you, or a drunk leers at a girl you care about, or swastika-wearing white folk come screaming "Dotbusting time!!" or some such thing. But I wasn't. I could barely notice the car make or colour, let alone the number. And I knew even at that point, that there was no real point chasing a car on a bicycle, specially on an uphill road. But the inner me screams out. It's the voice of every critic who ever criticized me on strength or speed or stability or weight.It calls me a slow dimwitted fatass darpok. What the fuck is the point of your learning aikijujitsu, it asks. What could I have done? I reply, and it yells out "Something!!!" And I dunno what will silence it. The conscious me can only surmise that you anticipate situations like this only by going through them once, and figuring out what can happen, and more importantly, how to respond.

The second thing is the nature of the miscreants. We all know the type. They're the generic chutiyas - the ones who hit and run, the ones who take pleasure in the fact that they could annoy you, the ones you could chase forever, tire out and (If you've energy left) stamp out altogether (and face a subsequent manslaughter charge), or ignore. The least dangerous of potential attackers, in short, but also the ones who incite the most anger in you. They're to be found in bars and beach roads and maidans and any sort of broad public space from Rio to Reykjavik. But right now, the image of four white guys sticks in my head. I see four white bullies. And now, for I don't know how long, white folks are potential rind-throwers and spitters and callers of names and what not. White people are, in short the enemy now. Even my neighbour. Even the Spanish guy two rooms down. Even my major professor. Anyone and everyone who doesn't have skin colour medium brown or shades darker must now have an eye kept on.

Fuck. You spend a lot of effort keeping your life exactly in control. One fucking incident can toss your world about like this. It's scary

2007-04-01T18:41:00.000-07:00

The Bloghouse.. or Arbit Thoughts of An Arbit Fellow

Taking a leaf out of Tarantino's and Rodriguez's book/books, I will be featuring a double feature this time. What are presented below are further arbit thoughts of, as you know, a very arbit fellow. So lets get to them without further delay.

Thought I:

Dollar Bill Marxism, or Looping Right Back Round

There was this "Will and Grace" episode I saw once, where Jack (look him here, if you don't know) is astonished and distressed upon being aroused by a woman. When he tells Will, the latter proposes he's turned so gay as to "loop right back to straight".

I was in Boston two weeks ago. I got the air ticket from Northwestern Airlines - found through CheapAir.com. It was among a handful of airlines with varying fares in the 250-400 dollar range, and happened to have convenient dates. Print a ticket, go to the check in counter, and punch in your codes. Show somebody an id to prove you're you, and the job's done. You're likely to meet an employee of Northwestern only if some thing's wrong with your number or reservation, and far from smiling with pleasure bordering on sycophancy, he/she's going to be bleary eyed and irritable. No cheery "How can I help you sir ?". This is like "Bhainchod it's not my fault your maader e-ticket number isn't right. Why the fuck are you eating my bheja, bhosadeekey?" [If you don't understand any of the Indian words, I am NOT going to translate for you] Oh and something else. You'd better have landed at least two hours in advance. If you don't, you'll probably set next to the single toilet on board. Chances are, even, you'll lose your seat.

Get in the plane and more surprises in stock. For starters, chances are your flight isn't really Northwestern or America West or whatever, but run by a smaller service leased/hired by Big Air. Little Air, in effect. 'Little' is the leitmotif of the corridor, the seats, the single toilet on board, and overhead bag storage space (Which is why you want to (I) beat the shit out of anyone who (a) is ahead of you in line (b) has anything that might be put in the overhead bin (c) both or (II) print out your boarding card 6 hours before you arrive, beating out all the others who had enough initiative to print it out 5 hours before) The silver lining is that your flight lasts only a couple of hours.

Ok, you're gonna tell me, so it isn't Jet Airways. You're in the US, and you have to take the equivalent of Air Deccan there. Here's the thing. Northwestern isn't the only one that trades flight comfort for economy. The truth is, there just isn't a Jet Airways equivalent here. There's no such airline service at all, not unless you have your own private jet or all willing to shell out like 1000+ dollars to go from Chicago to New York. The cozy system, that is so much the addictive staple in India, is all but non-existent here. Low cost airlines have dominated airlines so much, that they are now the norm rather than the exception. So, except for the really wealthy, everyone travels extreme economy-class. Sure, there's 15 different airlines to choose from, but they all offer essentially the same features, given the price range.

I started to find the same thing applies to food. Unlike India, where McD's and Pizza Huts are meant for pleasure, a burger or slice of pizza are the everyday man's lunch. Arby's tuna melt at 5$, with fries and a Coke. The all new Wendy's Hot Pepper burger at 4.50$, with chipotle sauce, jalapeno peppers and chili cheese. On average again, meals fall into the 5-20$ range. They're the type you order at a counter, and pick up in a tray or plastic box. Ok, Taste of China and Shanghai Surprise may have varying decor and sure, their meals aren't the cheap 4.99$ things at Arby's, but they both offer 10$ General Tsao's Chicken with rice and vegetables. And General Tsao's stays General Tsao's everywhere. If you really want high quality General Tsao's, meaning "Fried breast and sternum of chicken served in a delicately spiced bean, nutmeg and pepper sauce with dill, fresh aubergines and courgettes and Jinpo Southern China Rice" (Incidently, I've just made that up) you'll have to go to Han's, where there are waiters, and in white coats at that, a tuxedoed maitre'd who explains the recipes to you, asks you if you'd like Evian or Irish spring water, and finally charges you close to 100 dollars for two. And guess what, even special Frank (as opposed to average Joe) doesn't go there unless he's proposing to his girlfriend or wants to discuss a really special business proposal with his boss.

The same goes for just about anything under the sun. Clothing - Between TJ Maxx, Burlington Coat Factory, Target and Macy's, you can pick up anything you need. But again, there's no real difference between a Columbia Sportswear and an American Eagle one (beyond functionality of course, you don't want to wear a rain jacket on a frosty winter or vice versa). You can get any number of Televisions for 100 - 500$, but again, no real difference. High Definition ones are different, but THEY are inaccessible to most.

With the exception of books and broadband, all the things we look on as luxuries in India are to be taken for granted here. But they're all the same everywhere. The vast class of everymen live lives wherein their material possessions, from an external view, are homogeneous. Note that word. They're homogeneous. Like they all had the same food, clothing, shelter and travel means. Like they were living.... in a Marxist society.

Which brings me to the connection to the Will and Grace thing. The US has long been hailed as the Mecca of capitalism - the place where free enterprise rules supreme, and the market is ubiquitous, omnipresent and near omnipotent. It's my view now, that the USA, in its never ending quest for capital has looped back to Communism - perhaps not in line with Marxist theory, but surely as practiced by people in Communist states. With the exception of an elite - there it was a class of senior politicos, here it's one of uber-wealthy dudes - people's lives are uniform, on a material basis at least. [And I'm not exactly a Political Science/Economics PhD type, so absolute deference to anybody who has clearer knowledge of Marxism and Communist practice/leftist leanings/both]. Perhaps it's the nature of human economics. The ideals of left and right are yin and yang, and to be 100% of either, is to be a little of the other.

What do you think?

2007-03-07T12:56:00.000-08:00

The Sum of All Irritation

While indulging in my favourite pastime - namely, arbit Net-surfing - I came across this blog. I've no idea who this dude is, but this particular post of his struck me as exactly what I find wrong with Virgin comics, or Spiderman:India or new media. It's not not Indian, but it's too worked up on being Indian.
"Why is "Indian fiction" a bookstore section, separate from fiction in general?"

Check this post out. Vulturo really got it right!!

2007-03-05T13:02:00.000-08:00

OMG!!!!

This came in on IBNlive:
"

By IBNlive.com

Saturday March 3, 07:22 PM

New Delhi: Director Ram Gopal Varma’s controversy-ridden Nishabd has crash-landed into yet another row and this time it’s the Congress which is playing spoilt sport.

The Congress in Uttar Pradesh on Saturday demanded a ban on Varma’s latest release in which superstar Amitabh Bachchan romances Jiah Khan, who is more than 40 years younger to him.

Congress Spokesman Pervez Ahmed Khan told PTI that the film is against Indian culture and the screening should be banned immediately.

In a letter to Information and Broadcasting Minister Priyaranjan Dasmunsi, Khan said Bachchan is regarded as a role model in India and the film's screening will have an adverse impact on the people and the society.

“It would be in people's interest if the screening of the film is banned immediately," he said in the letter.
"
Gosh!! What a perverse idea!! Imagine all those poor impressionable 55-year olds who have a poor grip on reality and decide that since Amitabh can get turned on by the sight of a young girl, they can too!! I mean, they look up to him, right? And he's doing something horrible on screen, isn't he? I mean, remember the string of obsessive boyfriends that cropped up saying "Kkkkkirran" ? And that was just SRK. What could AB baby do? Dear Lord Almighty!!! Will someone please think of the 55 year olds? Or the 20 and 30 year olds who will become dirty old men of sorts in 30 years time, their even more impressionable minds scarred and perverted through this awful idea. Hai Ram, this is truly Kaliyug!!!

2007-03-04T19:31:00.000-08:00

Of Taeguks and Taalams

Friend Pavan, who can be caught deconstructing zaniness every now and then, is famous for his comparison of cyclohexane and the blues, a comparison that calls for deep and out-of-the-box thinking and/or a chillum of really good Manipuri to make sense. Seeing as how my belt exam's just done (I passed!!! I am now a green belt with blue tip!! Only like 7 exams before I'm a black belt!!) it occurred to me to make such a comparison of music and martial arts (something you'd have figured by clicking the Wikipedia links in the heading)

To those who may not know, I took classical music for a good deal longer than I should have. I started to learn to play the mridangam, and continued to learn to play, till Amma and Appa figured out why all neighbours in a mile's radius took simultaneous strolls and drives precisely when my teacher arrived. Class X pretty much wound up everything, what with JEE and whatnot. It didn't help that my guru seemed to come one step closer to a stroke with each class.

Anyway, whatever I didn't learn, there was one thing that he drilled into me. Each taalam (and there were a lot of them) was made of a set of notes (again, a lot of them) Now, when playing, the idea was to have what you were playing as a set. But, he said, do not memorize them at once. Nor try to play them at high speed. To do so would simply mean to remember a single
compositional word. The important thing was to remember each note, so as to fluidly transition from one to the other. And that came from slow practice. If you didn't practice slowly, aiming for continuity, you wouldn't see the bigger picture, and be stuck. Practice the notes slowly. Slowly increase speed, and for God's sake Arun, practice harder.

All good. Fast forward a half dozen years. Exit mridangam, turn through IIT and finally enter Purdue. More importantly, Purdue Taekwondo and Purdue Aikijujitsu club. And keep on till you reach a few days ago. When I had my Taekwondo green-blue tip exam.

I'd been chafing in class for a while. Prep for the exam seemed to consist of doing Inner-Outer, Upper and Chop-hand blocks continuously. What a bore. And the stances. It lacked a point. So, when my exam came up, I was excited and more than a little dismissive. I was a bit nervous, but mostly confident of doing very well. Right up to the point when I noticed that there were three students with me taking the exam, and a gang of parents watching. Ok, squiggly-wiggly's in the belly, but still OK.

It was when the examining instructor called out the first form to be demonstrated that things started not to go as planned "Inner outer, Upper and Chop-hand blocks" she said. Whoa!! Three at once? Well that's OK, I figured. Right foot out first, Inner-outer, bring your other hand about and cross it and...."One" came the call. Hey, wait a minute, I wanted to say. I managed to do it though. "Two!!" Now with the left side, move and ... Oh shit the others have done it already. "Three!!" and "Four!!" and "Five!!" and so on. Three minutes and a cold sweat later, second form demonstration "Inner-Outer, and turning kick!!" Oh God, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

It was at this point that I realized the whole point of my teacher's instructions. The stance and the position may come naturally to you when doing a single one, but when in a situation where you have to use several, how do you switch between them? You don't want to be stuck between two stances, wondering about whether it's your left foot that goes forward or your right. Not only does that flunk you an exam, but it also keeps you stuck in any situation that requires MA application. Not desirable in a street corner when there's a punk with brass knuckles and/or a bicycle chain. That's why you practice several, so as to be able to switch between them with ease.

The experience also brought to mind something that my Aikijutsu teacher mentioned in class. A key difference between Aikijutsu and Taekwondo is the latter's emphasis on grips and takedowns, as opposed to Taekwondo's strikes alone. As our teacher explained, a lock technique may be broken down into a block, a stance and position shift, a counter-strike and finally the lock or takedown, but try doing each separately, and you'll end up with frustration (in the dojo) or a broken nose (in the street). A lock or takedown technique is more than the sum of it's parts, and so you have to remember its components, but not to the point of it's being just a sequence. It's something more in itself, and is but one component in the whole range of techniques that exist. So to master the art, again do your techniques slowly, but make sure you're fluid throughout (Here "fluid" has a definite meaning - keep moving!!!). Practice them slowly and with patience, till remembering technique X is remembering X, and not X = A + B + C + D.

To those who think I'm getting overly abstruse and/or pretentious, here's like a summary. What all this really showed me, and will show anyone who does both, is the importance of rhythm in martial arts as well as music. Rhythm and flow (the new Terrence Howard sequel) is vital to both, and comes from detailed practice. Practicing to the point where as above X = X and not X =ΣA, is how you don't see, but eventually feel, the bigger picture. Instinctively. The point where an Ikkiyo takedown or a back-piercing kick is second nature, and you're not aware you're doing it. Rhythm and flow are the same when practicing music, martial arts, pottery, swimming, hell even room sweeping if you see art in it. There's like one rhythm in all of 'em, the feel one.

Fucking disappointing, isn't it?

2007-02-11T18:25:00.000-08:00

Shekhar Kapur's Devi:
Jackasses all the Way 2

Y'know, if I'd thought of doing this say 6 months earlier, I could have made a really neat pop culture reference, what with the Johnny Knoxville movie and all.... I suppose I'll have to be content with the humour of the dissection alone.Here’s to the Virgin Fuckers (neat phraseology there, don’t you think?) and issue 1 of Devi. Pardon the small size of the pics, you may have to open 'em in a parallel tab. But, those of you who appreciate this sort of thing won't mind. Do comment on this by the way, whether good, bad or ugly. Pictures courtesy of Newsarama.

Devi - Divine Virgin Protector or Whatever

“Devi” – Created by Shekhar Kapur and starring Rekha, if the red sketch is anything to go by.
Boy, I haven’t seen so many credits roll before a presentation begins, nor titles such as VP Operations, Studio Chief, Chief Creative Officer, CEO and Publisher…… for any comic book. It’s the content that people wanna read, fuckwads, not the illustrious names of those behind it!!! Even Stan Lee doesn’t stamp every Marvel product with his name and rank.

Chief, ahem Visionaries – a businessman with a flair for sexing up, the inventor, proprietor and propagator of “quantum healing”, and an almost Oscar-winning director who hasn’t come up with anything in a hell of a long time. I feel pity tingeing my disdain.

Ok, so this is the story so far, there's a divine woman formed somehow by the Gods, and you know she's divine from the fact she's "clothed in light" or something.

"Bring It Down" - Are there Oliphaunts around? Is this the battle of Pelennor Fields?

"The second century of mankind" - Evidently before they invented clothing for women, though after they invented blasters, gas-masks and giant castles with ramparts and bridges.

Something's not right, apart from the whole naked goddess thing. Why are people using arrows and crossbows when there're blasters to be had? Did they forget to invent gunpowder? And who are these purple dudes? Brahmins of the Shaolin-gotra?

Panel 1: Ah, so here we have the Dark Lord, who looks all saturnine and black-hearted and batty and even has his speech bubble as black with white lettering. How absolutely dark.

Panel 2: Re: "They call themselves the Durapasya - the Warriors of Light" I know what the fuck Durapasya's supposed to mean, idiot!!! I speak both English and Fake Sanskrit!!!

Panel 3: "The mongrels... take on the wolf" Hey, our Dark Lord's a racist too. Not to mention a Kennel Club enthusiast from the looks of it, if he knows of mongrels and what not. Seriously, Virgins, you ought to come up with a guy who uses cliches a bit less.

Panel 3: "The gods have a new champion. She's 36D size. They call her Jugs-A-Popping!! I mean, Devi"

Panel 4: "Haw Haw Haw!! No woman can take me down!! Don't you know that no man can kill me? So what could a woman do? Oh, and don't you think my shiny black skull and glowy red eye-sockets look awesome? I call it "the Terminator look" One of those sudden inspirations"

Panel 1&2: "Lord, I mean it. This one's like... Xena. Or Wonder Woman. Only more naked. She could kick butt"

Panel 3&4: "WTF!! Mader@#(*!! Dark Lords do not flee. Not until the stronghold's stormed and the enemy's right in and... Oh, there you go. Confrontation time!!"

Re: "You should have run..." "What, and miss this? You were right, General Sidekick, she's hot. Y'know sweetie I have a real thing for lightning brassiere. Let's chat"

Is she remotely Indian? Apart from brown skin and a common American Indian name, there's nothing to really make her one of us. Or a goddess for that matter.

And I'd like to know what these warrior dudes intend to pull off, kneeling behind her with swords. Perform "Crouching Tigers and their Suddenly Rising Dragons: The Musical"?

Panel 2:
Sidekick: "Charge!!!" Monks: "Countercharge!! Climb him and and we'll do to him what we've wanted to do with her!!"
Panel 3: Re:"Death's cold .....": When you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk!!

Panel 4: Re: (Dark Lord's RE:): You too!!

Panel 1: Re: "...slow and painful..": (Yawn) When you have to shoot.....

Panels 3and4: I wonder if he's really possessing them or they just became aware of their gonads. Either would produce the same effect

"Baalaaaa!! Y'know how hard it is to develop a booty like this? Even harder than shooting lightning from one's naked body!!"

Panel 1/2: "Coward!! Hide behind...Fight your own...!!" Well, duh!! D'yu expect the uber-evull dude to play fair? Follow Queensbury rules perhaps?

Panel 5:
"Your ego.." So Freudian psychology was invented in the second century as well.
"In about two minutes you'll kneel before me. Till then let's get some coffee and play chamma-chakka" Jeez, does it get any cheesier than this?

Panel 1: "Pathetic. Though not as pathetic as my yakking my bat ears off rather than finishing you once and for all when I have you groggy and knocked out. When will I learn "When you have to shoot...." ? And what do you think of my metallic black glove? I got it at an LOTR convention. The Witch King actually wore this, y'know!!"

Panel 3: "....only human" What is he, an Agent of the System now?

Following panels:
Suddenly... WHUMP!!! "OMG!! WTF!! HTF did you WHUMP me? And WyTF am I still doing nothing but staring at you while you go about WHUMPing??"

Panel 1/2: "Arrrrgh" Ok, power moment. Where's the temple bells? They ought to be ringing now, as "Jai Ma Devi" or something plays in the background.

So, this all-powerful Dark God can like possess people, fly a bit, make his eyes glow and throw a punch or two. That's it? Gods ain't what they used to be, huh?

Panel 2: I was wondering what the Martial-munis were doing with the flunky. Well, looks like they're back in.

Panel 3: So by re-invented, Virgin means they figured Devi would make a great Spiderwoman. Or Sheena. Or anyone who could swing.

Panel 1: "OMG!! She got him" - Martial munis.
"Know this... Not that it's going to make any difference at this point. I am the power of the pantheon. I am the force. I am the person who's knocked you down and is going to crow over you verbosely. I am the power of the cliche." Power of the pantheon. More re-invention I suppose.

Panel 2: "If it were upto me....Unfortunately it isn't, so all I can do is rant at this point and wait for your inevitable escape in subsequent issues"

Panel 3:
"How could you? You were the chosen one!! It was said you would bring balance to the Force, not turn to the Dark Side" And to top it off, Father Odin the Henko-White Fairy-Pope is also carrying a double bladed lightsaber.

The pantheon in the meantime, consists of a purple translucent dude with cancerous blue bubbles, grieving Daddy Whitebeard, Wonderbra-Woman, an Eagle, Ganesha's twin who went on Atkins and some guy with a Donkey's head. Inventive. More than anything so far.

Dying ninjas: "Dammit, I thought we were going to be in Kill Bill volume 3. WTF is this?"

Panel 1:
Ninjas: "We were sure this was Kill Bill. See, we even came to fight without any guns"
Phone: "Hello XYZ. What's your favourite scary movie?"
Re: "Who is this? I am busy killing professional bodyguards and can't spend too much time talking on the phone, let alone inquiring when absolute strangers call"

Panel 2: "Apsara: Heaven's assassin" Right. So naked lightning brunettes aren't enough to take out Heaven's targets. They also need leather clad red-heads.

Panel 3: She kills bodyguards to get to a target who happens to be a yakuza? Is this the House of Blue Leaves? Tarantino oughtta sue. Or send Jules and Vincent.

Panel 4: "...art form". Right. Can you like get more oily? Or cliched? Or hackneyed? Or ass-licky? [I'm asking the guy who wrote the dialogue]

Panel 1: "Hey Yoshi, guess what? Your wife hates you. Ever since you contracted gonorrhea and syphilis right in the face. How you got her sister is like a real mystery"

Panel 2/3: So our heavenly angel killer is like a feminist as well, huh? I can see her enacting the Vagina Monologues tomorrow.

"Call me Lord Baala. Or rather Lo-Baa-Diddy. Wanna get ya freak on my ride, Mama? Check the bling-bling out" Sitapur is in East LA, it seems. And for some reason, this dude attracts bats even when in his real estate office or wherever. Now that's an effective disguise. As effective as his changing his speech bubble so it's white inside now.

The fucknuttery continues.... what will happen next? Will Devi reborn beat this guy? Will the redhead take her out first? Will the hot chicks share sexually tense action sequences. Find out by putting cash in Virgin pockets. Or not.