I have to admit, amongst all the books that I received on my birthday this year, I was attracted to this book first, only because of its catchy title. Goes to show that good branding and naming of your product is half the battle won. Similarly in the world of books too, any experienced publisher will tell you that having an attention grabbing title is a prerequisite. 'Stay Hungry Stay Foolish' as a title for Rashmi Bansal's first book is an excellent choice. It is borrowed from Apple's Steve Jobs' now famous commencement address made to the 2005 graduating class at Stanford University. 'Stay Hungry Stay Foolish' were the famous last words of the speech, which meant that all of us have this innate, burning desire, something like a hunger to do something great and big in our lives. We need to work on this hunger, to achieve greatness in our lives. If we do not work on it, we will stay hungry, and stay foolish.
For reference sakes, following is an excerpt of the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005, in the concluding part of which he mentioned these now famous words.
"When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish."
The book captures the lives and times of 25 such IIM (Indian Institute of Management) Ahmedabad graduates who chose the rough road of entrepreneurship. These guys worked on their hunger, and did things that people of their times deemed foolish and even after that they remained hungry for something more. This is a brilliant concept, and especially in today's recessionary times, when the world has a bleak vision of economy and salaried jobs in general, it could come as an inspiration to those who want to set out on their own. That is not to say that entrepreneurship is a cushy path, as a matter of fact, all the entrepreneurs in the book did what they did not for the sake of money, and some did not even end up making that much money, but they were in it for creative satisfaction.
In a sense of achieving what the author had set out to achieve, Rashmi has made an inspiring book out of 25 different tales. The 25 entrepreneurs are from different strata of society, started off at different stages of their lives - some started right after their IIM stint, some started after 20 years of working as corporate honchos, and they are from different industries - Retail, Sugar, BPO, Education, Healthcare, etc just to mention a few. It seems a good selection of inspiring personalities and tales, and probably it does propagate the message that as a predominantly young country (as per the latest census, more than 50% of India is less than 25 yrs of age), we should look beyond placements, jobs and salaries; rather we should believe in the power of our dreams.
But whether the book is a good research effort of the lives and times of these 25 individuals is highly debatable. There is an inevitable sense of anguish when one finishes the book, because the research done is really very poor. What Rashmi has effectively done is just write what the interviewee said. Each of the interviews have the same set of questions and after the 5th or 6th tale, most entrepreneurs sound the same. 'First 3-4 years were difficult times, starting a business in India is a behemoth task especially because of the bureaucracy involved, family life suffered, partners moved on, finally somewhere along the 4th or 5th year the business began to break even'. What would have helped better would have been a different perspective rather than just that of the individual. In many cases what the entrepreneur says sounds pretty much like blowing his own trumpet. Rather if Rashmi had chosen to interview the entrepreneur's family, friends, partners, co workers, juniors, etc. we could have seen a different picture emerge.
But that would mean years of research in itself, and maybe coming up with a volume which would cost more (the book is priced at a very economic Rs 125), and would need more time and insight to come out with. Maybe that is what an IIM degree equips you with (IIM-A is Rashmi's alma mater as well). More sense while it comes to producing, branding, marketing and pricing your book. With a minimum production time of about 2 years (and that too with a very active full time job in hand), and a very economic cost, Rashmi is aiming for massive sales of her book to make money, rather than charge more a better quality. Looks like she has cracked the formula. In that respect, we can easily equate her with the Chetan Bhagat (known for 'Five Point Someone' and 'A Night at the Call Center' amongst other books) from the school of Indian Fiction writing. Chetan comes out with very pedestrian potboilers in quick succession (every year or two, he has a new book out), prices them moderately and makes quick and easy bucks. His books sell because the plots relate to and reach out to the entire computerized, gizmoized, Indian IT/BPO geek community who are used to getting away with introductory sentences like "Myself IT Gizmo" every time they are asked to do so. It's a sad, but true fact, that as a country we write complex computer code better than a simple, gramatically correct sentence. Incidentally Chetan went to IIM-A as well. That makes me think, why didn't she include Chetan also in one of the 25 entrepreneurs? Hmmm...Inclusion might mean admitting that his is a successful formula which she is out to replicate with this book of hers, and maybe she doesn't want to do that.
Other than being poorly researched, the book is also poorly written. Rashmi introduces herself as as a writer, entrepreneur and youth expert in the book. Just because you write a blog about youth, which probably a few hundred young guys read, doesn't make you a youth expert. I write reviews on movies and books on my blog, that doesn't make me a movie or a book expert (ya, I know my place!). I don't even understand what being a youth expert means and entails. Maybe she advises young girls what beauty cream to apply when there's a pimple situation, but wait, doesn't that make you a skin expert? Similarly the entire book is riddled with phrases, usages and acronyms which make it a very substandard showcase for Indian English writing. There are entrepreneurs in the book describing their IIM A days saying they took "a few courses like LEM and PPID". Sorry dear reader, this book was meant as a year end scrap book for all my IIM A classmates. Too bad, if you can't understand what it means. Then there are abundant Hindi words and sentences making their way into the book. "Aur itni jagah mein bhi ek 14" ka TV kone mein laga diya tha jahan par cricket dekhte the. So it was a lot of fun. Those were the real days I think...." After every second sentence written in English she feels compelled to break into Hindi. Sample this entrepreneurship mantra: "Find something you want to do, that you are passionate about and paisa to koi na koi dega. Unless it’s a stupid idea!" By now you get the drift of how she writes, I guess.
Maybe if Rashmi had focussed more on doing a better job of what she set out to, it would have been an enjoyable read. All in all it is indeed a great concept, which deserved more research and patience, rather than being put together hurriedly.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Is war the only solution?
As a layman, unknown to the world of politics, war, terrorism, and security, here are my thoughts, questions and comments regarding the goings on in India, a week after the 26/11 attacks on Mumbai:
1) By now, it's amply clear that the terrorists who had laid seige on Mumbai were LeT operatives. LeT is an outfit named amongst the terrorist outfits in both India and the US, and is banned even in Pakistan.
2) It is not clear though whether the Pakistan government had any role to play in this. And it is wrong to assume that they had, inspite of the LeT indeed operating from Pakistan.
3) Immediately after the lone captive terrorist confessed that he is from Pakistan, India had put up a demand with the Pakistani government to hand over 20 of its most wanted criminals who are residing in Pakistani soil now. This list includes Dawood Ibrahim, the mastermind behind the 1993 serial blasts in Mumbai, and the chief of the LeT group as well. It is not the first time that India had made this demand, it has been made many times before, but India upped the ante this time.
4) Pakistan has refused to hand over the 20 most wanted guys to India saying that they have no extradition treaty with India, and if India provides sufficient proof, they will be tried in Pakistan itself based on the laws of the Pakistani land. This despite Pakistan promising full support to India during the investigation and complete transparency.
5) India has got back to Pakistan saying that most of the guys in the list are actually Indian citizens who have just escaped from India to avoid being prosecuted. Indeed the list includes Indians like Dawood, Tiger Memon and some 6 Sikhs. But now this brings an interesting counterpoint, which India will need to answer if we keep pressing with the demand. The Dalai Lama is Tibetan (now Chinese) and is seeking refuge in India right now. The Chinese claim that the Dalai Lama is a splittist, someone actually looking to split Tibet from China, and has asked India to hand over him to China many times. This was even one of the reasons for the Indo-China war in the 60s. During those days, the then Prime Minister of India refused to hand over the Lama to China saying that India has a special emotional connection with Tibet. Today, although India is still smarting from the wounds inflicted during the Indo-China war, we yet refuse to toe the Chinese line. We do not actively support the Tibetan protest for a separate state, in fact, there were special provisions made and Tibetan protesters arrested when the Olympic torch was making its way through Delhi. This is because we know better than to engage in another war with the Chinese. But if India presses for the 20 guys from Pakistan (which I am pretty sure Pakistan will not follow), we can expect a Chinese call someday pretty soon with a similar demand. Are we ready to then hand over the Lama? Have we thought of the consequences? Off the top of my head, if yes we do hand over the Lama, there will be wide spread Buddhist and Dalit protests all over the country. Note that the Buddhists form the 5th major religious group in the country. If no we don't hand over the Lama, the Chinese response could be ranging from anywhere as minimal as a diplomatic tiff to something as severe as strikes along the North Eastern border or who knows, another Indo-China war?
6) So with Pakistan refusing to hand over the 20 most wanteds to India, what options does India have? A war?
7) The media sure seems to think so. One point which I really want to make here is against media sensationalism. Against the media's arm twisting tactics, of putting words into the mouths of ministers and public servants and misinterpreting and broadcasting them later. It's great that the media has considerable freedom in India, that is one of the few privileges that an Indian is used to and takes for granted. The media here is not a mouthpiece of the Government and is considerably free and fair. But in the wake of an issue of tremendous national importance as this, the media definitely goes overboard and does not know where to pull the reins. Just yesterday I was watching on TV the interview of the external affairs minister of India, Mr Pranab Mukherjee by a journalist from NDTV. Couple of times during the interview, the journalist asked whether Mr Mukherjee thinks a war is the solution to this type of a terror strike, to which Mr Mukherjee replied saying that it was not ruled out, but the Indian course of action depended on the Pakistani response. The immediate next headline all over the channel said "India does not rule out a war if need be". Seriously guys, temper down the tone a bit. Today when Mr Mukherjee appeared again in front of the media saying "We will take all steps possible to protect India's territorial integrity", all news channels have gotten into a frenzy decoding and dissecting the message and interpreting that only a war is the solution to tame these rogue terrorist groups operating out of Pakistan.
8) The media seems to forget that a large section of common populace like me, have no idea of what would entail in a war. Never has a war affected me in my lifetime. The only war which India had gotten into since I gained consciousness was the Kargil war. And that was in response to the Pakistani attacks, and that too was limited primarily to the area in and around Kargil in Kashmir. The vast majority of India remained unaffected by the war. But as a person with reasonably decent common sense, I can only imagine the rigors of a life during war. And seriously, what problems in the world have been solved with wars? The palpable anger in the minds of common man is given fuel to by this kind of views echoed by a section of the media, and like I mentioned in my yesterday's and day before yesterday's posts, the internet is rife with gullible young Indians declaring that this is the time for a war. I do not agree, but then I also do not know better as to what the alternative to war is.
9) In the middle of all this, US Secretary of State, Ms Condoleeza Rice came to India today and after prolonged meetings with the Indian contingent of ministers she appeared in front of the media and said that even if non-state actors were involved in the terror strikes, it was the responsibility of the Pakistani state to rein in the terror growing in their backyard. It is really commendable that the US sent its representative to India to guide and advise us, but if this is the only thing that Ms Rice had to say, then I have my doubts whether this was the only thing discussed between Ms Rice and Mr Mukherjee, the Indian external affairs minister. Behind closed doors with the Indian ministers, she might have condoned the idea of a war. The US knows it best when it comes to the ill effects of long-drawn and futile wars. True, there has been no terror strike on US since 9/11, and in many ways, the war probably did act as a deterrent. But not just the war, it was also a better security system, less corruption, a well stocked and well armed police force, modern ammunitions to fight the war and above all a very transparent and accountable political body at the top of the system. Maybe behind closed doors, that's the message she relayed to the Indians - War is not the only solution, strengthen yourself first and then bully Pakistan. And God knows, Pakistan has its own share of problems with these terrorists. But this is just my speculation, and I am just speculating based on all that I am seeing and hearing and reading.
10) Even if war is a good solution to such strikes, I feel that the present government might not engage with Pakistan in a war. For simple reasons, the first and foremost being the tenure of the present government is limited to just another 6 months. India goes to vote in another 6 months, and the present government might decide against a war, just because if the gamble backfires, then whatever little chances remain of it winning the election, even that will get flushed away. As it is, the common sentiment is very much against the present Congress Government and it is highly likely that the next election might see them losing the election battle bitterly. Along with the already sour mood, they don't want to be in a pickle with a war situation.
11) And seriously, if we go to a war with a democratically elected government, aren't we fulfilling the very purpose of the terrorist strikes by the non-state rogue groups? These groups are intent on seeing democracy taking a brow beating in Pakistan. Since the government was sworn in, there have been numerous terrorist strikes in Pakistan itself with the latest one being as debilitating as the bomb blast in front of the Mariott hotel in Islamabad. And really as little as I know about Pakistan and world politics and foreign affairs, it seems kind of likely to me that the State Government is genuinely not able to control the terrorist groups operating from their soil. It does not seem like a case of Pakistan discreetly supporting the terrorist groups, rather it looks like a case of Pakistan unable to contain the terrorist groups in their backyard. With Indians getting into a war with them, we are just forwarding the cause of the terrorists. If India does succeed in the war, democracy goes down the drain in Pakistan, and then we can forget any future peace making attempts with Pakistan.
So like I mentioned many times during this piece, for sure, I think war is not the solution to these terrorist strikes. It is a befitting answer, and a strong one, but will it solve the problem? I don't think so. And if not a war, I do not even know what the possible alternative is. Only the next few days will reveal how things develop, I hope for the better.
1) By now, it's amply clear that the terrorists who had laid seige on Mumbai were LeT operatives. LeT is an outfit named amongst the terrorist outfits in both India and the US, and is banned even in Pakistan.
2) It is not clear though whether the Pakistan government had any role to play in this. And it is wrong to assume that they had, inspite of the LeT indeed operating from Pakistan.
3) Immediately after the lone captive terrorist confessed that he is from Pakistan, India had put up a demand with the Pakistani government to hand over 20 of its most wanted criminals who are residing in Pakistani soil now. This list includes Dawood Ibrahim, the mastermind behind the 1993 serial blasts in Mumbai, and the chief of the LeT group as well. It is not the first time that India had made this demand, it has been made many times before, but India upped the ante this time.
4) Pakistan has refused to hand over the 20 most wanted guys to India saying that they have no extradition treaty with India, and if India provides sufficient proof, they will be tried in Pakistan itself based on the laws of the Pakistani land. This despite Pakistan promising full support to India during the investigation and complete transparency.
5) India has got back to Pakistan saying that most of the guys in the list are actually Indian citizens who have just escaped from India to avoid being prosecuted. Indeed the list includes Indians like Dawood, Tiger Memon and some 6 Sikhs. But now this brings an interesting counterpoint, which India will need to answer if we keep pressing with the demand. The Dalai Lama is Tibetan (now Chinese) and is seeking refuge in India right now. The Chinese claim that the Dalai Lama is a splittist, someone actually looking to split Tibet from China, and has asked India to hand over him to China many times. This was even one of the reasons for the Indo-China war in the 60s. During those days, the then Prime Minister of India refused to hand over the Lama to China saying that India has a special emotional connection with Tibet. Today, although India is still smarting from the wounds inflicted during the Indo-China war, we yet refuse to toe the Chinese line. We do not actively support the Tibetan protest for a separate state, in fact, there were special provisions made and Tibetan protesters arrested when the Olympic torch was making its way through Delhi. This is because we know better than to engage in another war with the Chinese. But if India presses for the 20 guys from Pakistan (which I am pretty sure Pakistan will not follow), we can expect a Chinese call someday pretty soon with a similar demand. Are we ready to then hand over the Lama? Have we thought of the consequences? Off the top of my head, if yes we do hand over the Lama, there will be wide spread Buddhist and Dalit protests all over the country. Note that the Buddhists form the 5th major religious group in the country. If no we don't hand over the Lama, the Chinese response could be ranging from anywhere as minimal as a diplomatic tiff to something as severe as strikes along the North Eastern border or who knows, another Indo-China war?
6) So with Pakistan refusing to hand over the 20 most wanteds to India, what options does India have? A war?
7) The media sure seems to think so. One point which I really want to make here is against media sensationalism. Against the media's arm twisting tactics, of putting words into the mouths of ministers and public servants and misinterpreting and broadcasting them later. It's great that the media has considerable freedom in India, that is one of the few privileges that an Indian is used to and takes for granted. The media here is not a mouthpiece of the Government and is considerably free and fair. But in the wake of an issue of tremendous national importance as this, the media definitely goes overboard and does not know where to pull the reins. Just yesterday I was watching on TV the interview of the external affairs minister of India, Mr Pranab Mukherjee by a journalist from NDTV. Couple of times during the interview, the journalist asked whether Mr Mukherjee thinks a war is the solution to this type of a terror strike, to which Mr Mukherjee replied saying that it was not ruled out, but the Indian course of action depended on the Pakistani response. The immediate next headline all over the channel said "India does not rule out a war if need be". Seriously guys, temper down the tone a bit. Today when Mr Mukherjee appeared again in front of the media saying "We will take all steps possible to protect India's territorial integrity", all news channels have gotten into a frenzy decoding and dissecting the message and interpreting that only a war is the solution to tame these rogue terrorist groups operating out of Pakistan.
8) The media seems to forget that a large section of common populace like me, have no idea of what would entail in a war. Never has a war affected me in my lifetime. The only war which India had gotten into since I gained consciousness was the Kargil war. And that was in response to the Pakistani attacks, and that too was limited primarily to the area in and around Kargil in Kashmir. The vast majority of India remained unaffected by the war. But as a person with reasonably decent common sense, I can only imagine the rigors of a life during war. And seriously, what problems in the world have been solved with wars? The palpable anger in the minds of common man is given fuel to by this kind of views echoed by a section of the media, and like I mentioned in my yesterday's and day before yesterday's posts, the internet is rife with gullible young Indians declaring that this is the time for a war. I do not agree, but then I also do not know better as to what the alternative to war is.
9) In the middle of all this, US Secretary of State, Ms Condoleeza Rice came to India today and after prolonged meetings with the Indian contingent of ministers she appeared in front of the media and said that even if non-state actors were involved in the terror strikes, it was the responsibility of the Pakistani state to rein in the terror growing in their backyard. It is really commendable that the US sent its representative to India to guide and advise us, but if this is the only thing that Ms Rice had to say, then I have my doubts whether this was the only thing discussed between Ms Rice and Mr Mukherjee, the Indian external affairs minister. Behind closed doors with the Indian ministers, she might have condoned the idea of a war. The US knows it best when it comes to the ill effects of long-drawn and futile wars. True, there has been no terror strike on US since 9/11, and in many ways, the war probably did act as a deterrent. But not just the war, it was also a better security system, less corruption, a well stocked and well armed police force, modern ammunitions to fight the war and above all a very transparent and accountable political body at the top of the system. Maybe behind closed doors, that's the message she relayed to the Indians - War is not the only solution, strengthen yourself first and then bully Pakistan. And God knows, Pakistan has its own share of problems with these terrorists. But this is just my speculation, and I am just speculating based on all that I am seeing and hearing and reading.
10) Even if war is a good solution to such strikes, I feel that the present government might not engage with Pakistan in a war. For simple reasons, the first and foremost being the tenure of the present government is limited to just another 6 months. India goes to vote in another 6 months, and the present government might decide against a war, just because if the gamble backfires, then whatever little chances remain of it winning the election, even that will get flushed away. As it is, the common sentiment is very much against the present Congress Government and it is highly likely that the next election might see them losing the election battle bitterly. Along with the already sour mood, they don't want to be in a pickle with a war situation.
11) And seriously, if we go to a war with a democratically elected government, aren't we fulfilling the very purpose of the terrorist strikes by the non-state rogue groups? These groups are intent on seeing democracy taking a brow beating in Pakistan. Since the government was sworn in, there have been numerous terrorist strikes in Pakistan itself with the latest one being as debilitating as the bomb blast in front of the Mariott hotel in Islamabad. And really as little as I know about Pakistan and world politics and foreign affairs, it seems kind of likely to me that the State Government is genuinely not able to control the terrorist groups operating from their soil. It does not seem like a case of Pakistan discreetly supporting the terrorist groups, rather it looks like a case of Pakistan unable to contain the terrorist groups in their backyard. With Indians getting into a war with them, we are just forwarding the cause of the terrorists. If India does succeed in the war, democracy goes down the drain in Pakistan, and then we can forget any future peace making attempts with Pakistan.
So like I mentioned many times during this piece, for sure, I think war is not the solution to these terrorist strikes. It is a befitting answer, and a strong one, but will it solve the problem? I don't think so. And if not a war, I do not even know what the possible alternative is. Only the next few days will reveal how things develop, I hope for the better.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Something new that I learnt today
A friend...no, sorry, an acquaintance of mine, has been very active on the web and online messenger services and social networking sites posting inflammatory messages and articles, suggesting that a war is the only answer to the 26/11 attacks on Mumbai(refer to my previous post on war whores, here, which also applies to him) and getting into an argument with anyone who does not agree with him. On discussing with others as to what should be the reason for such a behavior on his part, I learnt a new term 'Internt troll' which is applicable to him. Here is wikipedia on Internet trolls. Quite interesting!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
What's with the indecorum, Mr Politician?
I got a text message last night, which was the funniest amongst all the messages that are doing the rounds since the 26/11 attacks. It read "Ram Gopal Verma ki bas yahi kamaai; do sarkar banaayi aur ek giraayi". This might very well be the case, given that the CM has refused to see light even after repeated arguments by the common populace and the media that what he has done was improper. Mr Deshmukh justified his action by saying "Mr Verma is not a terrorist".
RGV (though he is not a minister) was equally blunt when he continuously went on justifying himself and the CM in an interview with Sreenivasan Jain from NDTV. Finally Vasu gave him one last chance to redeem himself, and asked him given the public reaction to the "terror tourism" that he indulged in, if such an opportunity arose again in the future, would he do it? RGV answered very much assertively that he would. There is a thin line between being candid and going overboard, that was when RGV crossed the line.
The ex-Deputy CM, RR Patil went one step ahead and said "Bade bade shahron mein aise ekaadh haadse hote rahte hai". With that comment he made the 26/11 attacks as another common place accident, nothing that the media and common man should get hyper about. The insensitivity was one of the many reasons, he lost his position, that's why the ex besides his designation. His followers tried to make light of it by saying Mr Patil was not well versed in Hindi, and hence he might have misworded what he actually meant. The explanation was too little, too late.
The crudest and the most unexplicable gaffe, now being called 'the lipstick gaffe' came from BJP member, Mr Mukhtar Abbas Naqvi. If I remember well his version when translated in English read as "Ladies wearing lipstick, applying talcum powder and following western culture, light a candle and protest against the politicians. They are similar to the terrorists in Kashmir, demonising politicians, and bad mouthing democracy". Obviously women's groups are in a furore all over the country. So apparently ladies wearing lipstick and applying talcum powder have no right to protest or voice their opinion, they can be equated with terrorists. What a liberating thought!
The biggest and unforgivable statement is the one coming from Kerala's CM, Mr Achutanandan. Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan who is a Malayalee was killed in the 26/11 attacks, when he was rescuing the people trapped in the Taj. After his body made it to Bengaluru, and after even the Karnataka CM made it to his house to offer condolences, there was a media frenzy in Kerala, prompting Mr Achutanandan to express his desire to pay his last respects to the Major's family. Apparently saddened by his son's loss, the Major's father made it clear to the CM that he did not wish to meet anyone. Even then the next day, the CM with his entourage reached the Major's house to pay his respects. Shaken because of his son's death and angered by the politics around something as trivial as paying respects to him, the Major's father drove out the entire group from out of his house and shouted out aloud "Get out of my house, you dogs!" After going back to Kerala, the Kerala CM tells in an interview "A soldier's father should be more sensible. If it was not the house of Major Sandeep (a martyr), not even a dog would have turned up there". It is ridiculous that a person at such a responsible position can utter such insensitive statements and even refuse to apologize.
The politicians and ministers have to understand that they are public servants and not drown in the highrises of their chairs. Emotions are running high all over the country nowadays, and the dirty politics which seem to follow every such event just seem to be beginning. The boiling point of people's emotions seems not too far off now, if the heat does not die soon, and the first ones to get scalded might be the politicians.
RGV (though he is not a minister) was equally blunt when he continuously went on justifying himself and the CM in an interview with Sreenivasan Jain from NDTV. Finally Vasu gave him one last chance to redeem himself, and asked him given the public reaction to the "terror tourism" that he indulged in, if such an opportunity arose again in the future, would he do it? RGV answered very much assertively that he would. There is a thin line between being candid and going overboard, that was when RGV crossed the line.
The ex-Deputy CM, RR Patil went one step ahead and said "Bade bade shahron mein aise ekaadh haadse hote rahte hai". With that comment he made the 26/11 attacks as another common place accident, nothing that the media and common man should get hyper about. The insensitivity was one of the many reasons, he lost his position, that's why the ex besides his designation. His followers tried to make light of it by saying Mr Patil was not well versed in Hindi, and hence he might have misworded what he actually meant. The explanation was too little, too late.
The crudest and the most unexplicable gaffe, now being called 'the lipstick gaffe' came from BJP member, Mr Mukhtar Abbas Naqvi. If I remember well his version when translated in English read as "Ladies wearing lipstick, applying talcum powder and following western culture, light a candle and protest against the politicians. They are similar to the terrorists in Kashmir, demonising politicians, and bad mouthing democracy". Obviously women's groups are in a furore all over the country. So apparently ladies wearing lipstick and applying talcum powder have no right to protest or voice their opinion, they can be equated with terrorists. What a liberating thought!
The biggest and unforgivable statement is the one coming from Kerala's CM, Mr Achutanandan. Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan who is a Malayalee was killed in the 26/11 attacks, when he was rescuing the people trapped in the Taj. After his body made it to Bengaluru, and after even the Karnataka CM made it to his house to offer condolences, there was a media frenzy in Kerala, prompting Mr Achutanandan to express his desire to pay his last respects to the Major's family. Apparently saddened by his son's loss, the Major's father made it clear to the CM that he did not wish to meet anyone. Even then the next day, the CM with his entourage reached the Major's house to pay his respects. Shaken because of his son's death and angered by the politics around something as trivial as paying respects to him, the Major's father drove out the entire group from out of his house and shouted out aloud "Get out of my house, you dogs!" After going back to Kerala, the Kerala CM tells in an interview "A soldier's father should be more sensible. If it was not the house of Major Sandeep (a martyr), not even a dog would have turned up there". It is ridiculous that a person at such a responsible position can utter such insensitive statements and even refuse to apologize.
The politicians and ministers have to understand that they are public servants and not drown in the highrises of their chairs. Emotions are running high all over the country nowadays, and the dirty politics which seem to follow every such event just seem to be beginning. The boiling point of people's emotions seems not too far off now, if the heat does not die soon, and the first ones to get scalded might be the politicians.
Monday, December 1, 2008
War and Vocab
There are two new words that the 26/11 terror attacks on Mumbai taught me.
1) Terror tourism - When people visit sites torn by terrorist attacks not for apparent heritage tourism or nature tourism purposes, but to revel in the glory of disaster caused by mankind very intentionally and brutally. It was most frequenty referred to in the case of the chief minister of Maharashtra, Mr Vilasrao Deshmukh who apparently took director Ram Gopal Verma with him to visit the Taj Mahal Hotel which was the most struck by the 26/11 attacks. Accompanying RGV was Mr. Deshmukh's son, Riteish Deshmukh (yes he has added an 'i' in his name, as suggested by his numerologist), an actor by profession, who has starred in couple of movies made by RGV. This action of terror tourism encouraged by Mr Deshmukh set the rumor tongues wagging that probably RGV is planning a movie on the recent terror attacks on Taj, being a "realistic" movie maker that he is (I don't buy that), and Vilasrao Deshmukh is promoting his own son to be cast as an actor in that movie, and hence the opportunity to see the Taj in its now shambles situation as a sop provided by Mr Deshmukh. The apparently insensitive "terror tourism" promoted by Mr Deshmukh might cause him his position, his head might be the one to roll next.
2) War Whores - All the people who are up-to-date and keep others updated with all news related to the war and terrorist attacks. These people post graphic details of heads, arms, legs, and other bloody body parts disengaged from the rest of the body on social networking sites. They are brazen proponents of the idea that the answer to the 26/11 terrorist attack is another war with Pakistan, just so that they get an opportunity to slut in the bloody aftermath. They are glued to TV all times during such attacks, and rather than providing helpful information, they spread news without waiting to ascertain whether they are certified facts or just rumors. It's not that this set of people have a criminal bent of mind, or anything of that sort, but in their excitement to show solidarity with the victims of the terrorists attacks, they go overboard and make themselves sound as if they are enjoying the war tidbits.
Whoring on the war news in the dailies has definitely increased my language skills.
1) Terror tourism - When people visit sites torn by terrorist attacks not for apparent heritage tourism or nature tourism purposes, but to revel in the glory of disaster caused by mankind very intentionally and brutally. It was most frequenty referred to in the case of the chief minister of Maharashtra, Mr Vilasrao Deshmukh who apparently took director Ram Gopal Verma with him to visit the Taj Mahal Hotel which was the most struck by the 26/11 attacks. Accompanying RGV was Mr. Deshmukh's son, Riteish Deshmukh (yes he has added an 'i' in his name, as suggested by his numerologist), an actor by profession, who has starred in couple of movies made by RGV. This action of terror tourism encouraged by Mr Deshmukh set the rumor tongues wagging that probably RGV is planning a movie on the recent terror attacks on Taj, being a "realistic" movie maker that he is (I don't buy that), and Vilasrao Deshmukh is promoting his own son to be cast as an actor in that movie, and hence the opportunity to see the Taj in its now shambles situation as a sop provided by Mr Deshmukh. The apparently insensitive "terror tourism" promoted by Mr Deshmukh might cause him his position, his head might be the one to roll next.
2) War Whores - All the people who are up-to-date and keep others updated with all news related to the war and terrorist attacks. These people post graphic details of heads, arms, legs, and other bloody body parts disengaged from the rest of the body on social networking sites. They are brazen proponents of the idea that the answer to the 26/11 terrorist attack is another war with Pakistan, just so that they get an opportunity to slut in the bloody aftermath. They are glued to TV all times during such attacks, and rather than providing helpful information, they spread news without waiting to ascertain whether they are certified facts or just rumors. It's not that this set of people have a criminal bent of mind, or anything of that sort, but in their excitement to show solidarity with the victims of the terrorists attacks, they go overboard and make themselves sound as if they are enjoying the war tidbits.
Whoring on the war news in the dailies has definitely increased my language skills.
Friday, November 28, 2008
The dark night
The dark night
Nov 27 2008 - 1.50 pm
It's been 12 hours now since I last spoke with Shibu. It's been about 8 hours since he last communicated with his parents. It's been about 16 and half hours since he has been out there on the streets covering the brazen terrorist attacks on Mumbai. Just a day after returning back from our very very pleasant stay in Gangtok, we were thrown right deep into the vagaries of tough life in a city like Mumbai. A night when an iconic landmark and a beautiful edifice was turned into a battle zone. Lack of sleep, overflowing tears and constantly watching reruns of the same terror shots on TV all night made my eyes weary. That's when the phone rang and I got to hear from him that all's well and he is back in the office. Thank God for a feeling called relief.
Nov 27 2008 - 1.50 pm
It's been 12 hours now since I last spoke with Shibu. It's been about 8 hours since he last communicated with his parents. It's been about 16 and half hours since he has been out there on the streets covering the brazen terrorist attacks on Mumbai. Just a day after returning back from our very very pleasant stay in Gangtok, we were thrown right deep into the vagaries of tough life in a city like Mumbai. A night when an iconic landmark and a beautiful edifice was turned into a battle zone. Lack of sleep, overflowing tears and constantly watching reruns of the same terror shots on TV all night made my eyes weary. That's when the phone rang and I got to hear from him that all's well and he is back in the office. Thank God for a feeling called relief.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Book Review: The Preservationist
The Preservationist is an interesting first novel by David Maine. Unlike other first novels, this one is not purely or semi autobiographical, rather it is inspired by the age old Biblical story of Noah and his ark from the book of Genesis. Like your childhood school task of 'Create a story from the outline given', David Maine takes the few outlines of the story from the Bible and creates a full fledged first novel out of it. The characters which are just names in the Bible are now characters which breathe, eat, drink, fight, gossip, rut, go through the entire gamut of emotions that all of us as human beings go through.
Born in 1963, and having travelled and lived all over the world primarily the desertscapes of Arizona, Morocco and Pakistan, it is interesting to see Maine's knowledge of vast deserts and the animals and insects that inhabit the desert plains make their way into the book. Maine's writing style is so simple but elaborate that picturesque images of the entire episode get created in your mind instantly. The book is an elegant retelling of the ancient story which captures people's efforts and hopes at a time of global disaster.
The names and quotations in the book are taken from the 1914 printing of the Douay Bible, which was an English translation from the Latin version. All names are spelled as in that edition. So Noah becomes Noe, and the God he answers to becomes Yahweh. We are also introduced to a string of characters belonging to the family of Noe: his wife (who incidentally is unnamed throughout the book and the Bible as well, even the wife herself can't remember her name in the novel), his sons - Sem, Cham and Japheth and their wives Bera, Illya and Mirn respectively. These three women are never named in the Bible; Maine names them, gives them voices, and turns them into his most fascinating characters, much more tougher than any of the muscled men. We see the Forrest Gumpian effort that Noe had to entail to bring this family of distinct personalities together to build a huge ark as God had instructed without being able to explain to his family why exactly the ark was being built. The book is awaiting a Mel Gibson to pick up the rights to make it into a spectacular movie laden with special effects.
Maine writes the entire episode in a very simplistically funny vein, for e.g.: In the following passage where he explains Noe's situation in the ark when he was unconscious for about 6 weeks:
"His day is simplified to its most basic elements:
1. Breathe.
2. Sleep.
3. Wake, or half-wake, into a foggy semi-delirium in which he chokes out half-intelligible words: Nigh tangles! or possibly Night angles! or maybe even Nightingales! Or perhaps something else entirely - nice angels? - or nothing.
4. Sip a little water from the cup the wife holds to his chin. Sip a little broth.
5. Chew a piece of carrot or flatbread, swallow it or spit it to dribble down his chin."
The great thing about the novel is that it is not preachy at all. Not about the Christian faith, not even about humanity in general. Maine could easily have slipped into a prophetical mode, where he draws parallel between the evils that plagued the society then with the ones today, and probably mention a similar catastrophe in waiting. But he avoids doing so. Instead he treats the novel just as if he is narrating a story to his kids.
Each of the characters in the family are as individualistic as any of the members in a real life joint family. So while Noe is the crazy guy who hears voices from above, his wife is this submissive, reticent lady who only does as she is instructed and expected of her. Sam is the obedient son, obedient to the point where he has no thought of his own and only listens to his father. Cham is the knowledgeable son, who has travelled far and wide and learnt more about the world outside. He is the primary boat builder. Japheth is a useless, accident prone no-gooder who can't see beyond the basic necessities of life. Sam's wife Bera is a calm, persistent and a firm believer in Yahweh. Ilya is an outsider to the family, who looks different from all the others and constantly has to face the discrimination. But since she is from a different land way up in the north, she has better knowledge of the world outside. Mirn is just a young girl, but with lots of common sense and a deep sense of curiousity for the happenings around her. While the characters are distinguished from one another by quirks and obsessions, their voices are not a problem, as the chapters alternate points of view. Every character in the story other than Noe narrates some chapters from their point of view, and then there is a narrator for Noe's part. So the story alternates between different people's first person views of the story to a third person view from time to time.
While the Bible only mentions that there was a flood and Noah and his family were entrusted with building an ark and filling it up with a male and female animal of all the species known to mankind, it offers little detail on how they actually built the ark or collected those many animals. Which Maine interestingly builds up in this novel. Maine also provides intricate details of the suffering that the family had to undergo on the boat. Writing in a breezy present tense, Maine imagines how they spend their time: telling stories, feeding larvae to birds, getting bummed out, rutting. He writes of the ship's interior: "From the darkness around them rises a dull effulgence of elephant dung, of rhino shit and wet hippo gas."
As the story progresses and the flood subsides, we even see the characters maturing as they set out to different corners of the earth to procreate and populate the earth again. And Noe's desperation as he realizes that Yahweh is no longer communicating with him, he has become one of the commoners who is left to do things on his own without any instructions. Slowly his wife grows old and dies and later he also dies a lonely death. These are the facts of the story as mentioned in the Bible, and they remain mysterious both to the characters and to the reader. Maine hasn't attempted to explain these mysteries, rather he leaves the reader wondering whether at the end of it all the entire episode was worth the trouble at all.
Born in 1963, and having travelled and lived all over the world primarily the desertscapes of Arizona, Morocco and Pakistan, it is interesting to see Maine's knowledge of vast deserts and the animals and insects that inhabit the desert plains make their way into the book. Maine's writing style is so simple but elaborate that picturesque images of the entire episode get created in your mind instantly. The book is an elegant retelling of the ancient story which captures people's efforts and hopes at a time of global disaster.
The names and quotations in the book are taken from the 1914 printing of the Douay Bible, which was an English translation from the Latin version. All names are spelled as in that edition. So Noah becomes Noe, and the God he answers to becomes Yahweh. We are also introduced to a string of characters belonging to the family of Noe: his wife (who incidentally is unnamed throughout the book and the Bible as well, even the wife herself can't remember her name in the novel), his sons - Sem, Cham and Japheth and their wives Bera, Illya and Mirn respectively. These three women are never named in the Bible; Maine names them, gives them voices, and turns them into his most fascinating characters, much more tougher than any of the muscled men. We see the Forrest Gumpian effort that Noe had to entail to bring this family of distinct personalities together to build a huge ark as God had instructed without being able to explain to his family why exactly the ark was being built. The book is awaiting a Mel Gibson to pick up the rights to make it into a spectacular movie laden with special effects.
Maine writes the entire episode in a very simplistically funny vein, for e.g.: In the following passage where he explains Noe's situation in the ark when he was unconscious for about 6 weeks:
"His day is simplified to its most basic elements:
1. Breathe.
2. Sleep.
3. Wake, or half-wake, into a foggy semi-delirium in which he chokes out half-intelligible words: Nigh tangles! or possibly Night angles! or maybe even Nightingales! Or perhaps something else entirely - nice angels? - or nothing.
4. Sip a little water from the cup the wife holds to his chin. Sip a little broth.
5. Chew a piece of carrot or flatbread, swallow it or spit it to dribble down his chin."
The great thing about the novel is that it is not preachy at all. Not about the Christian faith, not even about humanity in general. Maine could easily have slipped into a prophetical mode, where he draws parallel between the evils that plagued the society then with the ones today, and probably mention a similar catastrophe in waiting. But he avoids doing so. Instead he treats the novel just as if he is narrating a story to his kids.
Each of the characters in the family are as individualistic as any of the members in a real life joint family. So while Noe is the crazy guy who hears voices from above, his wife is this submissive, reticent lady who only does as she is instructed and expected of her. Sam is the obedient son, obedient to the point where he has no thought of his own and only listens to his father. Cham is the knowledgeable son, who has travelled far and wide and learnt more about the world outside. He is the primary boat builder. Japheth is a useless, accident prone no-gooder who can't see beyond the basic necessities of life. Sam's wife Bera is a calm, persistent and a firm believer in Yahweh. Ilya is an outsider to the family, who looks different from all the others and constantly has to face the discrimination. But since she is from a different land way up in the north, she has better knowledge of the world outside. Mirn is just a young girl, but with lots of common sense and a deep sense of curiousity for the happenings around her. While the characters are distinguished from one another by quirks and obsessions, their voices are not a problem, as the chapters alternate points of view. Every character in the story other than Noe narrates some chapters from their point of view, and then there is a narrator for Noe's part. So the story alternates between different people's first person views of the story to a third person view from time to time.
While the Bible only mentions that there was a flood and Noah and his family were entrusted with building an ark and filling it up with a male and female animal of all the species known to mankind, it offers little detail on how they actually built the ark or collected those many animals. Which Maine interestingly builds up in this novel. Maine also provides intricate details of the suffering that the family had to undergo on the boat. Writing in a breezy present tense, Maine imagines how they spend their time: telling stories, feeding larvae to birds, getting bummed out, rutting. He writes of the ship's interior: "From the darkness around them rises a dull effulgence of elephant dung, of rhino shit and wet hippo gas."
As the story progresses and the flood subsides, we even see the characters maturing as they set out to different corners of the earth to procreate and populate the earth again. And Noe's desperation as he realizes that Yahweh is no longer communicating with him, he has become one of the commoners who is left to do things on his own without any instructions. Slowly his wife grows old and dies and later he also dies a lonely death. These are the facts of the story as mentioned in the Bible, and they remain mysterious both to the characters and to the reader. Maine hasn't attempted to explain these mysteries, rather he leaves the reader wondering whether at the end of it all the entire episode was worth the trouble at all.
Dostana
The stars of the movie Dostana - Ass, Legs, and Pink Shirt in conversation with the producer of the movie, Mr Pink Money.
Pink Money (PM) : Let's start with you Ass. I hear you have a great role in the movie. Wanna talk about it?
Ass: You know I generally let my work do the talking. And I knew I would look great on John what with all of his months of exercising in preparing for this role. After Ranbir showed me off gleefully in all parts of the world other than India, John had been waiting for a while for someone to offer him a similar role. I am so glad that PM you walked along and offered him this role. Never has anyone taken me more seriously than him. John royally pampered me and prepared me for the opening shots of the movie. So you have a great opening sequence with John and me in the movie. Anyways I was always more emotive than his face. PM, it was only because of you that I got this favorable role. Although I could show very less of myself from under those briefs of his, I never looked better. Actually there are many shots of me even on Piggy Chops, but for Piggy Chops I am fashionably draped around. You always liked me more on John.
PM: That's so not true Ass, you ass! Even Piggy Chops shows off a good amount of you in the golden bikini scene in the movie. I like you on both John and Piggy.
Ass: I didn't stand a chance to be noticed in that golden bikini. I looked like such a bummer. And c'mon the bikini scene was more to show off Miss Legs.
Legs: Well, Piggy wanted to show off more of me than you anyways, Ass. Since Kareena's Tashan days, Piggy's been wanting to get one up on Kareena. And both in Fashion and Dostana she showed off lots of me. This has been the golden part of my careeer. Everyone wants to show off more of me. Ass, it will be a while more for the Indian audiences to mature and move on to you. Until then you will have to satisfy showing small peek-a-boos of yours. And trust me, the men in the audience want to see more of me than you, other than maybe PM's loyal pink fan following.
PM: Ah! my pink fans! I have so much to be thankful to them. They royally lap up anything made by my banner, thinking that it will add more razzmatazz to the pink power movement. It leads to more pink money for me, so I am not the one to complain. It's only because of my pink money that I can make all of you top stars work in my movies, even in the most ridiculous outfits. Don't you agree Pink Shirt?
Pink Shirt: What kind of a question is that? You are equating me with bad fasion sense? Didn't I look gorgeous on Abhishek in this movie? And with the pink scarf around his neck. All of it looked great. Indian men have always been comfortable with their pink shirts. I looked great even on Akshay in his last movie 'Singh is King'. He wore a floral version of me and a deep pink lungi. It was just perfect. Abhishek was a bit more resistant to wearing pink in this movie though. Actually those were just tantrums on his side to get hands on more of your pink money. He was getting no good roles and no money anyways. He had to accept this one, and I am so glad he did. He carried me off well, and I am sure I will see more Indian men turning the city and the country pink soon. Only Indian men wear their hearts on their sleeves and their shirts to match that color on their sleeves.
PM: That's great PS. Here's more to pink power. And you guys don't go anywhere, we are still in conversation with Ass, Legs and Pink Shirt, the stars of the movie Dostana.
AND NOW FOR A REVIEW OF THE MOVIE...
Yes, that's what the movie is all about. It's a showcase for John's ass, Priyanka's legs and Abhishek turning pink. It will be a hit for sure and audiences will lap it up, Karan is quite the manipulator. Even the gays in the audience will walk out of the movie thinking that this movie does showcase them positively. Obviously with two top heroes and beefcakes being paired together as a couple in the movie, no one can complain that gays are being given a raw deal in the movie. Look clearly guys, whenever they have to act gay, they go all flamboyant and loud and OTT and all they talk about is sex. And all the other gay characters in the movie are again just caricatures of everything the straight world expects when they hear the word gay. Even if all the flamboyant gay characters in the movie had been at least a bit peppered with a couple of regular, normal gay guys like the ones we see in real life, I wouldn't have complained. But clearly that is not what Karan Johar had in his mind. Ultimately the movie has to make money, and Karan also never claimed that the movie is about gay rights. So no complaints against him. I have a problem with the gay audience who are saying that the movie is the most gay-friendly movie to come out. Seriously?
The movie is indeed historical and will be talked about for ages to come. For the word gay has never been uttered in Hindi movies. And here you have an entire movie based on a gay sub plot. Just for pushing gay into Hindi mainstream cinema, I think, Karan Johar and the director of the movie, Tarun Mansukhani deserve some credit. They could have easily touched any other topic and made as much, if not more money.
If only, the makers had stuck with the gay theme and thought of a better plot to move the story forward in the second half it would have been more satisfying. So we have a very funny first half where John and Abhishek take up two rooms in Priyanka's apartment on rent. Priyanka needs the money and John and Abhishek are desperate to get the rooms. Since Priyanka would have only girls as her room mates, the two put up an act as a gay couple to get the room. This part of the plot and the jokes are heavily borrowed from the English movie 'I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry'. I must admit though that this movie is only a tad better than that one. At least here we have a great cast, and great songs.
As they discover the benefits of putting up this act, there are more and more people around who come to know that they are gay. So you have an overacting, but very funny Kirron Kher who discovers that her son is gay; you have a hideous Sushmita Mukherjee hamming all her way to Sindhi stardom; a gora gay immigration officer; and a flamboyant Boman Irani (great, again) who plays Priyanka's gay boss and hits on her supposedly gay roommates. So far, so good. It's when the jokes dry down in this part of the movie, that probably the makers realized that there is only so much of stretching that they can do with the Kantaben subplot from Kal Ho Na Ho. And that's where the story begins to falter. Enter Bobby Deol who is also a competition for Priyanka's attention and his kid (who is that overacting kid?) who is clamoring for his father's attention, and you have such gaping holes in the plot line that even John's ass can pass through them.
The movie is funny, yes, but largely because it is irreverent to the accepted social norms of Hindi movie making. But I beg to differ if anyone says it is a sensible, or a well made or even a genuinely funny movie. It is everything that I expect from Bollywood when I go for the movies - great looking actors, glamorous costumes, great music, great dances, and lavish sets. If all this comes with a tight script and good performances, then nothing like it. This movie gives me all of my first set of requirements, can't say much of the second set. So I end up not being disappointed in the great tradition of Bollywood movies, but that's just about it.
The movie is about friendship as the title suggests, and I must mention that all three - John, AB junior and Priyanka - look like they genuinely share a great friendship. The chemistry between the three of them shows on the screen, and especially John and Abhishek do look great together. Bobby Deol does not fit in the proceedings, no matter how much he tries, and with that irritating no-gooder son of his, he better stay away from the main story. The fast-paced songs are great and well choreographed. Especially the grand finale song - Maa Ka Laadla. The song is hugely funny especially because it cares a rat's ass about any societal norms and is hugely politically incorrect, I guess Karan Johar is coming out to his mom through the song. I hope she sess it at least now...
Pink Money (PM) : Let's start with you Ass. I hear you have a great role in the movie. Wanna talk about it?
Ass: You know I generally let my work do the talking. And I knew I would look great on John what with all of his months of exercising in preparing for this role. After Ranbir showed me off gleefully in all parts of the world other than India, John had been waiting for a while for someone to offer him a similar role. I am so glad that PM you walked along and offered him this role. Never has anyone taken me more seriously than him. John royally pampered me and prepared me for the opening shots of the movie. So you have a great opening sequence with John and me in the movie. Anyways I was always more emotive than his face. PM, it was only because of you that I got this favorable role. Although I could show very less of myself from under those briefs of his, I never looked better. Actually there are many shots of me even on Piggy Chops, but for Piggy Chops I am fashionably draped around. You always liked me more on John.
PM: That's so not true Ass, you ass! Even Piggy Chops shows off a good amount of you in the golden bikini scene in the movie. I like you on both John and Piggy.
Ass: I didn't stand a chance to be noticed in that golden bikini. I looked like such a bummer. And c'mon the bikini scene was more to show off Miss Legs.
Legs: Well, Piggy wanted to show off more of me than you anyways, Ass. Since Kareena's Tashan days, Piggy's been wanting to get one up on Kareena. And both in Fashion and Dostana she showed off lots of me. This has been the golden part of my careeer. Everyone wants to show off more of me. Ass, it will be a while more for the Indian audiences to mature and move on to you. Until then you will have to satisfy showing small peek-a-boos of yours. And trust me, the men in the audience want to see more of me than you, other than maybe PM's loyal pink fan following.
PM: Ah! my pink fans! I have so much to be thankful to them. They royally lap up anything made by my banner, thinking that it will add more razzmatazz to the pink power movement. It leads to more pink money for me, so I am not the one to complain. It's only because of my pink money that I can make all of you top stars work in my movies, even in the most ridiculous outfits. Don't you agree Pink Shirt?
Pink Shirt: What kind of a question is that? You are equating me with bad fasion sense? Didn't I look gorgeous on Abhishek in this movie? And with the pink scarf around his neck. All of it looked great. Indian men have always been comfortable with their pink shirts. I looked great even on Akshay in his last movie 'Singh is King'. He wore a floral version of me and a deep pink lungi. It was just perfect. Abhishek was a bit more resistant to wearing pink in this movie though. Actually those were just tantrums on his side to get hands on more of your pink money. He was getting no good roles and no money anyways. He had to accept this one, and I am so glad he did. He carried me off well, and I am sure I will see more Indian men turning the city and the country pink soon. Only Indian men wear their hearts on their sleeves and their shirts to match that color on their sleeves.
PM: That's great PS. Here's more to pink power. And you guys don't go anywhere, we are still in conversation with Ass, Legs and Pink Shirt, the stars of the movie Dostana.
AND NOW FOR A REVIEW OF THE MOVIE...
Yes, that's what the movie is all about. It's a showcase for John's ass, Priyanka's legs and Abhishek turning pink. It will be a hit for sure and audiences will lap it up, Karan is quite the manipulator. Even the gays in the audience will walk out of the movie thinking that this movie does showcase them positively. Obviously with two top heroes and beefcakes being paired together as a couple in the movie, no one can complain that gays are being given a raw deal in the movie. Look clearly guys, whenever they have to act gay, they go all flamboyant and loud and OTT and all they talk about is sex. And all the other gay characters in the movie are again just caricatures of everything the straight world expects when they hear the word gay. Even if all the flamboyant gay characters in the movie had been at least a bit peppered with a couple of regular, normal gay guys like the ones we see in real life, I wouldn't have complained. But clearly that is not what Karan Johar had in his mind. Ultimately the movie has to make money, and Karan also never claimed that the movie is about gay rights. So no complaints against him. I have a problem with the gay audience who are saying that the movie is the most gay-friendly movie to come out. Seriously?
The movie is indeed historical and will be talked about for ages to come. For the word gay has never been uttered in Hindi movies. And here you have an entire movie based on a gay sub plot. Just for pushing gay into Hindi mainstream cinema, I think, Karan Johar and the director of the movie, Tarun Mansukhani deserve some credit. They could have easily touched any other topic and made as much, if not more money.
If only, the makers had stuck with the gay theme and thought of a better plot to move the story forward in the second half it would have been more satisfying. So we have a very funny first half where John and Abhishek take up two rooms in Priyanka's apartment on rent. Priyanka needs the money and John and Abhishek are desperate to get the rooms. Since Priyanka would have only girls as her room mates, the two put up an act as a gay couple to get the room. This part of the plot and the jokes are heavily borrowed from the English movie 'I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry'. I must admit though that this movie is only a tad better than that one. At least here we have a great cast, and great songs.
As they discover the benefits of putting up this act, there are more and more people around who come to know that they are gay. So you have an overacting, but very funny Kirron Kher who discovers that her son is gay; you have a hideous Sushmita Mukherjee hamming all her way to Sindhi stardom; a gora gay immigration officer; and a flamboyant Boman Irani (great, again) who plays Priyanka's gay boss and hits on her supposedly gay roommates. So far, so good. It's when the jokes dry down in this part of the movie, that probably the makers realized that there is only so much of stretching that they can do with the Kantaben subplot from Kal Ho Na Ho. And that's where the story begins to falter. Enter Bobby Deol who is also a competition for Priyanka's attention and his kid (who is that overacting kid?) who is clamoring for his father's attention, and you have such gaping holes in the plot line that even John's ass can pass through them.
The movie is funny, yes, but largely because it is irreverent to the accepted social norms of Hindi movie making. But I beg to differ if anyone says it is a sensible, or a well made or even a genuinely funny movie. It is everything that I expect from Bollywood when I go for the movies - great looking actors, glamorous costumes, great music, great dances, and lavish sets. If all this comes with a tight script and good performances, then nothing like it. This movie gives me all of my first set of requirements, can't say much of the second set. So I end up not being disappointed in the great tradition of Bollywood movies, but that's just about it.
The movie is about friendship as the title suggests, and I must mention that all three - John, AB junior and Priyanka - look like they genuinely share a great friendship. The chemistry between the three of them shows on the screen, and especially John and Abhishek do look great together. Bobby Deol does not fit in the proceedings, no matter how much he tries, and with that irritating no-gooder son of his, he better stay away from the main story. The fast-paced songs are great and well choreographed. Especially the grand finale song - Maa Ka Laadla. The song is hugely funny especially because it cares a rat's ass about any societal norms and is hugely politically incorrect, I guess Karan Johar is coming out to his mom through the song. I hope she sess it at least now...
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Truth
For the past two weeks, every Tuesday has been a rush-rush affair for me. I try to wind up my work before 7 pm, have dinner by 8 pm and I am back home on the couch in front of the TV to catch the latest episode of 'The Moment of Truth' by 9 pm. There has been no other show that has captured my imagination so much, as far as memory serves me. Probably after Project Runway, this is the only show that I have made time for diligently week after week.
Deep within my heart, I am actually ashamed that I am so fond of this show. It's because I am aware that it's voyeuristic, exploitative, and makes a great viewing experience of someone else's misery. But I have to admit, it's hugely entertaining. So much that in the last episode that was aired in India, I had my heart racing and I was actually jumping on my seat answering on behalf of the participant. It's actually very unfortunate and extremely sad that the contestant had to lose both her husband and her money at the end of the show. Yes, the questions broke the contestant's marriage and she also ended up getting no money because of one mistake.
The basic premise of the show is that you have to answer truthfully, all the questions posed to you. The questions range from the mundane to the silly to the personal types. There are 21 questions posed, at the end of which you go back home with half a million dollars. The only catch being that you have to answer only the truth. If God forbid, the lie detector marks any of your answers as false, you end up going home with nothing. If you are wondering to yourself how could this be so difficult, let me assure you it is probably much more difficult than enduring all those physical tribulations on the Survivor series. The questions get far way too personal, much beyond the comfort levels of even the host of the show. And the farthest any contestant has reached so far in the show is Question no 16. I can't imagine how personal and tricky the last few questions on the show would be if anyone were to ever face it.
For e.g.: Suppose someone asked me, would you donate one of your kidneys to your sister in case both her kidneys failed and yours is a match? Sure, Of course, Without any doubt, I would say if someone were to randomly ask me this question on the street. But what if deep within my heart somewhere I am not so sure whether that is a good idea. Subconsciously, my answer would be hmmmm....I don't know. If I am now strapped to a lie detector and asked the same question on the show, and if I were to answer Yes sure, Of course, then I would be out of the show with no money gained from my previous truthful answers.
Another question to which you might just not know the answer is of the types "Do you think you are a good person?". Again our immediate tendency might be to answer Yes. None of us are that great sinners who have done such horrible things, that we would call ourselves bad people. But even for a fraction of a second when you are asked this question, if your mind trespasses to any of your previous wrong doings, like the time you stole some money from your dad's pocket, or the time when you quite purposefully did something wrong against one of your colleagues at work, so that you get to outshine him at work, then this would be captured by the lie detector. And then if you answer affirmatively to the question, the lie detector would disagree with you.
That was the question at which the last contestant lost all her money. And that after she had answered truthfully to the other 15 hugely personal and difficult questions. Questions which broke her marriage, questioned her fidelity, and labelled her as a thief. It's extremely unfortunate that she lost her money to a question that looks so simple and straightforward on the outside, but we all know how difficult it could be to answer.
And as entertaining as it might be, it still troubles me that it's extremely exploitative. It's sad that I am enjoying the spectacle of someone else's misery. Maybe if I am asked the same question "Do you think you are a good person?", my mind might trespass to this grey area and my lie detector would beep.
Deep within my heart, I am actually ashamed that I am so fond of this show. It's because I am aware that it's voyeuristic, exploitative, and makes a great viewing experience of someone else's misery. But I have to admit, it's hugely entertaining. So much that in the last episode that was aired in India, I had my heart racing and I was actually jumping on my seat answering on behalf of the participant. It's actually very unfortunate and extremely sad that the contestant had to lose both her husband and her money at the end of the show. Yes, the questions broke the contestant's marriage and she also ended up getting no money because of one mistake.
The basic premise of the show is that you have to answer truthfully, all the questions posed to you. The questions range from the mundane to the silly to the personal types. There are 21 questions posed, at the end of which you go back home with half a million dollars. The only catch being that you have to answer only the truth. If God forbid, the lie detector marks any of your answers as false, you end up going home with nothing. If you are wondering to yourself how could this be so difficult, let me assure you it is probably much more difficult than enduring all those physical tribulations on the Survivor series. The questions get far way too personal, much beyond the comfort levels of even the host of the show. And the farthest any contestant has reached so far in the show is Question no 16. I can't imagine how personal and tricky the last few questions on the show would be if anyone were to ever face it.
For e.g.: Suppose someone asked me, would you donate one of your kidneys to your sister in case both her kidneys failed and yours is a match? Sure, Of course, Without any doubt, I would say if someone were to randomly ask me this question on the street. But what if deep within my heart somewhere I am not so sure whether that is a good idea. Subconsciously, my answer would be hmmmm....I don't know. If I am now strapped to a lie detector and asked the same question on the show, and if I were to answer Yes sure, Of course, then I would be out of the show with no money gained from my previous truthful answers.
Another question to which you might just not know the answer is of the types "Do you think you are a good person?". Again our immediate tendency might be to answer Yes. None of us are that great sinners who have done such horrible things, that we would call ourselves bad people. But even for a fraction of a second when you are asked this question, if your mind trespasses to any of your previous wrong doings, like the time you stole some money from your dad's pocket, or the time when you quite purposefully did something wrong against one of your colleagues at work, so that you get to outshine him at work, then this would be captured by the lie detector. And then if you answer affirmatively to the question, the lie detector would disagree with you.
That was the question at which the last contestant lost all her money. And that after she had answered truthfully to the other 15 hugely personal and difficult questions. Questions which broke her marriage, questioned her fidelity, and labelled her as a thief. It's extremely unfortunate that she lost her money to a question that looks so simple and straightforward on the outside, but we all know how difficult it could be to answer.
And as entertaining as it might be, it still troubles me that it's extremely exploitative. It's sad that I am enjoying the spectacle of someone else's misery. Maybe if I am asked the same question "Do you think you are a good person?", my mind might trespass to this grey area and my lie detector would beep.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My travel-o-rama
You know it's been long since you blogged when you want to get to your blog site to begin to type in your new post, but you just can't seem to remember the URL of your blog site...
It's been that long, yes, but for a reason. Actually it's because I've been busy. Busy travelling across the world, catching up with friends and family in different parts of the world, settling in and acclimatizing in new locations, and trying to catch up with work and career, which I had been neglecting for a while now.
So I decided to maintain a blog post abt all the travelling that I have been doing in 2008, starting with my small 3 week vacation to India starting May 23 2008
May 23 2008 - Leave New York for Mumbai
May 24 2008 - Reach Mumbai
May 26 2008 - Leave Mumbai in train for Kerala with parents
May 27 2008 - Reach my hometown, Thumpamon, Kerala with parents
May 29 2008 - Leave Kerala in train for Chennai with parents to visit my sister and her family
June 2 2008 - Fly from Chennai with parents back to Mumbai
June 8 2008 - Fly from Mumbai for Bangalore for a small vacation with Shibu
June 11 2008 - Fly from Bangalore back to Mumbai
June 15 2008 - Fly from Mumbai back to New York
June 16 2008 - Reach New York and resume work the same day
July 3 2008 - Take a bus down to Boston along with Ari, and from Boston meet up with Mayur and drive down in his car along with Keiko, Ari and Mayur to Montreal for a small vacation
July 6 2008 - Drive down back from Montreal to Boston, and again take the bus back from Boston to NYC
July 11 2008 - Fly from NYC back to Mumbai for a 3 month long work based assignment in Bangalore
July 12 2008 - Reach Mumbai and wait at the airport for 5 hrs for a transit flight to Bangalore
July 13 2008 - Reach Bangalore and report to work next day on July 14 2008
July 25 2008 - Leave Bangalore in a rickety bus to Goa for a 2 day Goa experience
July 26 2008 - Reach Goa and meet up with Shibu in Goa
July 27 2008 - Leave Goa in a bus back to Bangalore
July 28 2008 - Reach back to Bangalore
August 1 2008 - Leave Bangalore for Chennai in train to meet sister and her family
August 2 2008 - Reach Chennai
August 3 2008 - Leave Chennai in train back to Bangalore
August 4 2008 - Reach Bangalore
August 8 2008 - Leave Bangalore for Chennai in train again to meet sister and her family
August 8 2008 - Reach Chennai
August 10 2008 - Drive down from Chennai to Pondicherry and Mahabalipuram in car along with sis, bro-in-law, the 2 kids and Mom
August 11 2008 - Leave Chennai for Bangalore in train and report to work the same day
August 14 2008 - Catch a late night flight to Mumbai
August 15 2008 - Reach Mumbai
August 18 2008 - Catch an early morning flight back to Bangalore and report to work the same day
August 22 2008 - Leave Bangalore for Kerala in train to attend cousin sis's wedding on August 24
August 23 2008 - Reach Thumpamon Kerala
August 24 2008 - After the wedding leave the same evening in a rickety bus, back to Bangalore
August 25 2008 - Reach Bangalore and report to work the same day
I will be updating my travel-o-rama as and when I do more of travelling in the days to come. Phew! This looks pretty exhausting in itself...
It's been that long, yes, but for a reason. Actually it's because I've been busy. Busy travelling across the world, catching up with friends and family in different parts of the world, settling in and acclimatizing in new locations, and trying to catch up with work and career, which I had been neglecting for a while now.
So I decided to maintain a blog post abt all the travelling that I have been doing in 2008, starting with my small 3 week vacation to India starting May 23 2008
May 23 2008 - Leave New York for Mumbai
May 24 2008 - Reach Mumbai
May 26 2008 - Leave Mumbai in train for Kerala with parents
May 27 2008 - Reach my hometown, Thumpamon, Kerala with parents
May 29 2008 - Leave Kerala in train for Chennai with parents to visit my sister and her family
June 2 2008 - Fly from Chennai with parents back to Mumbai
June 8 2008 - Fly from Mumbai for Bangalore for a small vacation with Shibu
June 11 2008 - Fly from Bangalore back to Mumbai
June 15 2008 - Fly from Mumbai back to New York
June 16 2008 - Reach New York and resume work the same day
July 3 2008 - Take a bus down to Boston along with Ari, and from Boston meet up with Mayur and drive down in his car along with Keiko, Ari and Mayur to Montreal for a small vacation
July 6 2008 - Drive down back from Montreal to Boston, and again take the bus back from Boston to NYC
July 11 2008 - Fly from NYC back to Mumbai for a 3 month long work based assignment in Bangalore
July 12 2008 - Reach Mumbai and wait at the airport for 5 hrs for a transit flight to Bangalore
July 13 2008 - Reach Bangalore and report to work next day on July 14 2008
July 25 2008 - Leave Bangalore in a rickety bus to Goa for a 2 day Goa experience
July 26 2008 - Reach Goa and meet up with Shibu in Goa
July 27 2008 - Leave Goa in a bus back to Bangalore
July 28 2008 - Reach back to Bangalore
August 1 2008 - Leave Bangalore for Chennai in train to meet sister and her family
August 2 2008 - Reach Chennai
August 3 2008 - Leave Chennai in train back to Bangalore
August 4 2008 - Reach Bangalore
August 8 2008 - Leave Bangalore for Chennai in train again to meet sister and her family
August 8 2008 - Reach Chennai
August 10 2008 - Drive down from Chennai to Pondicherry and Mahabalipuram in car along with sis, bro-in-law, the 2 kids and Mom
August 11 2008 - Leave Chennai for Bangalore in train and report to work the same day
August 14 2008 - Catch a late night flight to Mumbai
August 15 2008 - Reach Mumbai
August 18 2008 - Catch an early morning flight back to Bangalore and report to work the same day
August 22 2008 - Leave Bangalore for Kerala in train to attend cousin sis's wedding on August 24
August 23 2008 - Reach Thumpamon Kerala
August 24 2008 - After the wedding leave the same evening in a rickety bus, back to Bangalore
August 25 2008 - Reach Bangalore and report to work the same day
I will be updating my travel-o-rama as and when I do more of travelling in the days to come. Phew! This looks pretty exhausting in itself...
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Movie Review: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian
The Narnia royalty is back with a big bang and how! Admitted - I was not one of the billions of fans that "the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" gathered, but count me in this mutli billion fold with this new outing. Yes, I can't stop raving about this film. This time around the Narnia quartet and Aslan, the lion with the brooding voice (Liam Neeson) are joined with Prince Caspian, a fascinating new addition to the series.
The story starts where the previous installment ends. The Narnian quartet are getting used to their drab lives in the real world, while back in their fantasy world Narnia has been conquered by the Telmarines and is now under the control of the evil King Miraz, who rules the land without mercy. One year after the events of "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," the four kids are recalled back to Narnia, only to discover that more than 1300 years have passed in Narnian time. Things have changed, Narnians are not as loving, forgiving and trusting as earlier under the regime of King Miraz. The four children soon meet an intriguing new character: Narnia's rightful heir to the throne, the young Prince Caspian, who has been forced into hiding as his uncle Miraz plots to kill him in order to place his own newborn son on the throne. And therein begins the machinations of this movie, which seems more or less like a war- movie. The story also includes other new fascinating characters, like Reepicheep - the courageous, chivalrous and courteous (but not cute in his own words) talking mouse, a kindly dwarf, a honey badger called Trufflehunter and many others.
With this second installment the series has taken a much darker, grittier, action-packed and adult tone that really ups the ante and blows the first film out of the water. It is obvious from the first frame that this is going to be a different adventure than the previous one, and what makes it better is how this film expands the mythology and widens the scope of the world of Narnia. Now, being written by C.S. Lewis, expectedly the religious themes of Cain and Abel, Moses and others are present in this story. Andrew Adamson needs to be commended for his direction with this film because he has definitely grown from the first. He easily handles the darker change of tone, the more complicated action and effects, and guides all the new characters very nicely. No one seems out of place. Speaking of characters, the four actors from the first film have all grown up since we've last seen them and it bodes good for the story, in the sense that you could spice up the story with some romantic tension between Prince Caspian and the Queen, which of course does happen. Ben Barnes, the new addition playing Prince Caspian, fits in very well and certainly carries charisma. Now, not only is the cinematography gorgeous and the effects improved, but also, as I mentioned before, the action in this film is intense, notably the sword fighting duel at the very climax of the movie. It is to Adamson's credit that I must say that this climatic sword fighting duel is probably one of the very best ever captured on screen. Even the epic final battle is very well shot and it reminds you of Peter Jackson's brilliant battle scenes from LOTR. It is all spectacular! By the end of the movie, I even began to care for the characters, long for Aslan (I must mention here, when he finally appeared on the screen, the kiddies all around me began clapping and hooting loudly, such is his screen presence) I will go as far as to say that this is one of most best fantasy films ever made. It easily comes on my list of favorite fantasy movies, up there with LOTR. An instant classic!
The story starts where the previous installment ends. The Narnian quartet are getting used to their drab lives in the real world, while back in their fantasy world Narnia has been conquered by the Telmarines and is now under the control of the evil King Miraz, who rules the land without mercy. One year after the events of "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," the four kids are recalled back to Narnia, only to discover that more than 1300 years have passed in Narnian time. Things have changed, Narnians are not as loving, forgiving and trusting as earlier under the regime of King Miraz. The four children soon meet an intriguing new character: Narnia's rightful heir to the throne, the young Prince Caspian, who has been forced into hiding as his uncle Miraz plots to kill him in order to place his own newborn son on the throne. And therein begins the machinations of this movie, which seems more or less like a war- movie. The story also includes other new fascinating characters, like Reepicheep - the courageous, chivalrous and courteous (but not cute in his own words) talking mouse, a kindly dwarf, a honey badger called Trufflehunter and many others.
With this second installment the series has taken a much darker, grittier, action-packed and adult tone that really ups the ante and blows the first film out of the water. It is obvious from the first frame that this is going to be a different adventure than the previous one, and what makes it better is how this film expands the mythology and widens the scope of the world of Narnia. Now, being written by C.S. Lewis, expectedly the religious themes of Cain and Abel, Moses and others are present in this story. Andrew Adamson needs to be commended for his direction with this film because he has definitely grown from the first. He easily handles the darker change of tone, the more complicated action and effects, and guides all the new characters very nicely. No one seems out of place. Speaking of characters, the four actors from the first film have all grown up since we've last seen them and it bodes good for the story, in the sense that you could spice up the story with some romantic tension between Prince Caspian and the Queen, which of course does happen. Ben Barnes, the new addition playing Prince Caspian, fits in very well and certainly carries charisma. Now, not only is the cinematography gorgeous and the effects improved, but also, as I mentioned before, the action in this film is intense, notably the sword fighting duel at the very climax of the movie. It is to Adamson's credit that I must say that this climatic sword fighting duel is probably one of the very best ever captured on screen. Even the epic final battle is very well shot and it reminds you of Peter Jackson's brilliant battle scenes from LOTR. It is all spectacular! By the end of the movie, I even began to care for the characters, long for Aslan (I must mention here, when he finally appeared on the screen, the kiddies all around me began clapping and hooting loudly, such is his screen presence) I will go as far as to say that this is one of most best fantasy films ever made. It easily comes on my list of favorite fantasy movies, up there with LOTR. An instant classic!
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Finding Neverland
You were told that the train to Neverland - that land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness - started from Platform 9 3/4. You spent ages just looking for Platform 9 3/4. You went to that Platform 9 and the other Platform after it, the one with no number, which you figured would be Platform 10. But there was no Platform 10. At least there was no board assigning it the title 'Platform 10'. You stood around for quite a while, you walked the length and the breadth of the platform looking for some board, some paint on the wall, some graffiti, just some symbol which said that you were standing on Platform 10. You asked people around whether it was Platform 10, no one responded. They just shrugged their shoulders in a non-chalant way. Some looked at you and shuddered 'coz you had asked for the unthinkable - how can anyone in their right frame of mind be looking for Platform 10? You then asked people whether they knew where the station master sits, so that you can then enquire whether you are on Platform 10...but no one knew. Finally when you had spent hours and days looking for Platform 10, you saw a man in uniform. You assumed that should be the station master. You rushed to him to ask, Am I standing on Platform 10? He said, Use your brains fella. If the previous one is Platform 9, and the one before that is 8, then of course this is 10. That's when you realized, Of course, how foolish. All the last few days, you stood where you thought you wanted to be. But you could attain nothing, 'coz you were unsure of yourself. You went and asked all the wrong people whether what you thought was right, but of course, they refused to help. Everybody had their own problems and they could not bother less about a new fella with his own new set of questions.
You were happy that you were on Platform 10. Oh that's when you realized that the search did not end here. Where you actually wanted to be was Platform 9 3/4, and catch a train from there which took you to Neverland.
You stood from Platform 10, and gazed over to that Platform 9. From where you stood, you could clearly see a sign painted in red and blue and white which read platform 9. There was no other platform in between the two platforms, 9 and 10. Where is Platform 9 3/4, you wondered? That's when the idea struck you. Probably you can just run through the walls of Platform 9, just like Harry Potter and his friends did in J K Rowling's fantasy world. You took your luggage cart and rushed to the walls. As you were rushing to the walls, you had this entire fantasy illusion of how the walls would part and just let you in. Or maybe the walls would suddenly turn transparent and you could just walk into it. As your speed increased, you had this fabulous view of how you would get into Platform 9 3/4 successfully and how you would rave about it to all your friends and family. As your luggage cart almost touched the walls, you were shocked to see that the walls were not parting. It still seemed as solid as ever. Your cart bumped into the walls with a loud thud, your luggage fell over. People around began to laugh at you, on your seeming foolishness. You got up embarassed, shook the dust off your pants, collected your bags, arranged them again on the cart and began to walk back. You remembered in the book that Harry had to do it multiple times. You tried again. Sigh! With the same result.
As you tried again and again, and made yourself the butt of the others' jokes, you realized that this is not the same as JK Rowling's fantasy world. This was your own world and you had to make your own rules. So you jumped from that Platform 9, and walked 3/4th of the distance between Platform 9 and 10. You awaited the train. People around began shouting at you, began calling you names, began asking you to get back up on the platform. This way you would kill yourself, they were saying. Some sounded genuinely concerned. But you could not bother less, you had made up your mind. You had to catch the train from Platform 9 3/4 and this made complete sense.
You could hear the train coming. The screaming of the people around reached boombastic decibels. They were all calling for you to get out of the train's way. First the wind blew - that smoky, petrol-smelling wind that presages the arrival of the train - and then the twin lights pierced the darkness, and then there it was, gray and white, the train. As the lights neared, your eyes began to feel blinded, you clenched your eyes shut tight, for what seemed like almost a minute. The train began honking, the driver began screaming, but you still did not move. With luggage cart in tow, you stood there stoic, ready to face the consequences of your own actions. And then you could feel the thud. In what seemed like an eternity, you could feel the train snaking through your spine. The pain was too much to bear, and you opened your eyes to a new world.
As you opened your eyes, you noticed that you were no longer on the train tracks. You were within the train, and there was a pretty hostess treating you to goodies. There was lots of food. It was the land of plenty. Milk and honey was flowing freely everywhere. You asked the hostess whether this was the train to Neverland. She nodded with that smug smile of someone who knew it all, and was often faced with the same question. You ate some, drank some, slept some, seemed to enjoy the ride.
But as you rode more and more in the train, you began to feel lonely. You wanted to make some friends. You had left your family and friends in the land of that Platform 9, 10 and 9 3/4. You took up the friendship of the first guy who came and introduced himself to you. He promised you wealth, goodness, friendship, loyalty and in short, the works, for ages to come. You were new in the train, you knew nobody. You took up his offer of friendship. Those were some happy days. You ate together, drank together, went to all fun places in the train together, flirted with the hostesses together. You thought that this was to last for all times. But then sadly his destination was not Neverland, and he got down before the destination.
You were heartbroken, you cried for days with no end. You took up on chocolate and booze. Sadly those two never satisfied your loneliness pangs. There were still some more acquaintances who offered you their friendship, but this time you made it sure to ask them their destination before they started on the journey with you. You noticed that most of them were getting down before Neverland and hence you chose not to get too close with them.
Along the journey you met some people who were planning to get down at Neverland as well. They were also looking for contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness. Neverland was that promised land. You struck a bond with these guys. You became friends. You did all fun things together. Other people in the train were getting jealous of your friendship. It was excellent company throughout the journey towards Neverland. All that you could wait for, was Neverland now.
But Neverland never came. You had been on the train for months together now, but there was no trace of Neverland. Your friends began getting dissatisfied. Some of them began bonding with other people on the train who were getting off at stops that were approaching in the next few days. They found that their promised land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness was with this new companion of theirs. They got down with their new found accomplices at stops before Neverland. And really it was not their fault. Neverland was not be seen at all. And whenever you asked the hostesses where Neverland was, they had no answer. You had the patience to wait until Neverland approached. Not everyone else had the same level of Patience.
That was when you realized that your land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness was probably where you caught the train from.
You were distressed when that realization struck you. You had made months of journey on this train now. And it would take you as much time to get back. You began to panic as this realization struck you. And as you were already panicking through this one thought, another thought struck you. You had not seen a train going back in the reverse direction in all your months of journey towards Neverland. So how do you get back from Neverland? Do you stay put in the train until Neverland comes, no matter how long it takes? Or do you get down and begin looking for alternate approaches to get back to where you think Neverland actually is?
You were happy that you were on Platform 10. Oh that's when you realized that the search did not end here. Where you actually wanted to be was Platform 9 3/4, and catch a train from there which took you to Neverland.
You stood from Platform 10, and gazed over to that Platform 9. From where you stood, you could clearly see a sign painted in red and blue and white which read platform 9. There was no other platform in between the two platforms, 9 and 10. Where is Platform 9 3/4, you wondered? That's when the idea struck you. Probably you can just run through the walls of Platform 9, just like Harry Potter and his friends did in J K Rowling's fantasy world. You took your luggage cart and rushed to the walls. As you were rushing to the walls, you had this entire fantasy illusion of how the walls would part and just let you in. Or maybe the walls would suddenly turn transparent and you could just walk into it. As your speed increased, you had this fabulous view of how you would get into Platform 9 3/4 successfully and how you would rave about it to all your friends and family. As your luggage cart almost touched the walls, you were shocked to see that the walls were not parting. It still seemed as solid as ever. Your cart bumped into the walls with a loud thud, your luggage fell over. People around began to laugh at you, on your seeming foolishness. You got up embarassed, shook the dust off your pants, collected your bags, arranged them again on the cart and began to walk back. You remembered in the book that Harry had to do it multiple times. You tried again. Sigh! With the same result.
As you tried again and again, and made yourself the butt of the others' jokes, you realized that this is not the same as JK Rowling's fantasy world. This was your own world and you had to make your own rules. So you jumped from that Platform 9, and walked 3/4th of the distance between Platform 9 and 10. You awaited the train. People around began shouting at you, began calling you names, began asking you to get back up on the platform. This way you would kill yourself, they were saying. Some sounded genuinely concerned. But you could not bother less, you had made up your mind. You had to catch the train from Platform 9 3/4 and this made complete sense.
You could hear the train coming. The screaming of the people around reached boombastic decibels. They were all calling for you to get out of the train's way. First the wind blew - that smoky, petrol-smelling wind that presages the arrival of the train - and then the twin lights pierced the darkness, and then there it was, gray and white, the train. As the lights neared, your eyes began to feel blinded, you clenched your eyes shut tight, for what seemed like almost a minute. The train began honking, the driver began screaming, but you still did not move. With luggage cart in tow, you stood there stoic, ready to face the consequences of your own actions. And then you could feel the thud. In what seemed like an eternity, you could feel the train snaking through your spine. The pain was too much to bear, and you opened your eyes to a new world.
As you opened your eyes, you noticed that you were no longer on the train tracks. You were within the train, and there was a pretty hostess treating you to goodies. There was lots of food. It was the land of plenty. Milk and honey was flowing freely everywhere. You asked the hostess whether this was the train to Neverland. She nodded with that smug smile of someone who knew it all, and was often faced with the same question. You ate some, drank some, slept some, seemed to enjoy the ride.
But as you rode more and more in the train, you began to feel lonely. You wanted to make some friends. You had left your family and friends in the land of that Platform 9, 10 and 9 3/4. You took up the friendship of the first guy who came and introduced himself to you. He promised you wealth, goodness, friendship, loyalty and in short, the works, for ages to come. You were new in the train, you knew nobody. You took up his offer of friendship. Those were some happy days. You ate together, drank together, went to all fun places in the train together, flirted with the hostesses together. You thought that this was to last for all times. But then sadly his destination was not Neverland, and he got down before the destination.
You were heartbroken, you cried for days with no end. You took up on chocolate and booze. Sadly those two never satisfied your loneliness pangs. There were still some more acquaintances who offered you their friendship, but this time you made it sure to ask them their destination before they started on the journey with you. You noticed that most of them were getting down before Neverland and hence you chose not to get too close with them.
Along the journey you met some people who were planning to get down at Neverland as well. They were also looking for contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness. Neverland was that promised land. You struck a bond with these guys. You became friends. You did all fun things together. Other people in the train were getting jealous of your friendship. It was excellent company throughout the journey towards Neverland. All that you could wait for, was Neverland now.
But Neverland never came. You had been on the train for months together now, but there was no trace of Neverland. Your friends began getting dissatisfied. Some of them began bonding with other people on the train who were getting off at stops that were approaching in the next few days. They found that their promised land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness was with this new companion of theirs. They got down with their new found accomplices at stops before Neverland. And really it was not their fault. Neverland was not be seen at all. And whenever you asked the hostesses where Neverland was, they had no answer. You had the patience to wait until Neverland approached. Not everyone else had the same level of Patience.
That was when you realized that your land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness was probably where you caught the train from.
You were distressed when that realization struck you. You had made months of journey on this train now. And it would take you as much time to get back. You began to panic as this realization struck you. And as you were already panicking through this one thought, another thought struck you. You had not seen a train going back in the reverse direction in all your months of journey towards Neverland. So how do you get back from Neverland? Do you stay put in the train until Neverland comes, no matter how long it takes? Or do you get down and begin looking for alternate approaches to get back to where you think Neverland actually is?
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
India to get younger politicians
I stumbled on this great news today. Apparently Basu and Surjeet have expressed their desires to be relieved. I am sure the nation breathes a sigh of collective relief as well. It's high time that the Communist party gets infused with some fresh thoughts and fresh blood. The age old moralistic, retrograde Communist thoughts will not work for a brand new India.
Maybe, it's just hoping for too much to expect fresh blood to stream into the Indian political arena.
'Coz the youth wing of the party is still led by the relatively younger 70+ year old Bardhan. And it is the 75+ year old Somnath Chatterjee who will take over the mantle from Basu and Surjeet. It's time for maybe another 20-30 year old reign by Chatterjee over the party. Sigh!
I had heard this somewhere once:
Secret of a long life: Become a politician.
Secret of a longer life: Become a politician with the Communist Party.
So true!
Maybe, it's just hoping for too much to expect fresh blood to stream into the Indian political arena.
'Coz the youth wing of the party is still led by the relatively younger 70+ year old Bardhan. And it is the 75+ year old Somnath Chatterjee who will take over the mantle from Basu and Surjeet. It's time for maybe another 20-30 year old reign by Chatterjee over the party. Sigh!
I had heard this somewhere once:
Secret of a long life: Become a politician.
Secret of a longer life: Become a politician with the Communist Party.
So true!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
What's my word?
An excerpt from Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love":
If you could read people's thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be - that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don't really belong there.
"What's Rome's word?" I asked.
"SEX", he announced.
"But isn't that a stereotype about Rome?"
"No."
"But surely there are some people in Rome thinking about other things than sex?"
Giulio insisted: "No. All of them, all day, all they are thinking about is SEX."
"Even over at the Vatican?"
"That's different. The Vatican isn't part of Rome. They have a different word over there. Their word is POWER."
"You'd think it would be FAITH."
"It's POWER," he repeated. "Trust me. But the word in ROME - it's SEX."
Now if you are to believe Giulio, that little word - SEX - cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome, runs through the fountains here, fills the air like traffic noise. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it - that's all anybody is doing. Which would make a bit of sense as to why, for all its gorgeousness, Rome doesn't quite feel like my hometown. Not at this moment in my life. Because SEX isn't my word right now. It has been at other times of my life, but it isn't right now. Therefore, Rome's word, as it spins through the streets, just bumps against me and tumbles off, leaving no impact. I'm not participating in the word, so I'm not fully living here. It's a kooky theory, impossible to prove, but I sort of like it.
Giulio asked, "What's the word in New York City?"
I thought about this for a moment, then decided. "It's a verb, of course, I think it's ACHIEVE."
(Which is subtly but significantly different from the word in Los Angeles, I believe, which is also a verb: SUCCEED. Later, I will share this theory with my Swedish friend Sofie, and she will offer her opinion that the word on the streets of Stockholm is CONFORM, which depresses both of us.)"
___________________________________________________________
So what's my word?
Now that, I definitely cannot answer.
It's not SEX for sure. I can't even seem to remember the last time. SEX must have been my word some years back. It's not MARRIAGE, that's evident too. FAMILY? Nah. I am staying alone in NYC and happy about it. Am I entirely inhabiting New York City's word - ACHIEVE? I guess to some extent..maybe, I am not sure. Is my word PATIENCE? I am patiently awaiting the next few months, for decisions to be made, for new commitments to be made, for things to change, for new things to happen, for old bad occurences to pass. Yes, PATIENCE, maybe that's my word. It does not overall fit into NYC's word, and maybe that's why I am not that happy here. But yes, PATIENCE, it is....
If you could read people's thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be - that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don't really belong there.
"What's Rome's word?" I asked.
"SEX", he announced.
"But isn't that a stereotype about Rome?"
"No."
"But surely there are some people in Rome thinking about other things than sex?"
Giulio insisted: "No. All of them, all day, all they are thinking about is SEX."
"Even over at the Vatican?"
"That's different. The Vatican isn't part of Rome. They have a different word over there. Their word is POWER."
"You'd think it would be FAITH."
"It's POWER," he repeated. "Trust me. But the word in ROME - it's SEX."
Now if you are to believe Giulio, that little word - SEX - cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome, runs through the fountains here, fills the air like traffic noise. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it - that's all anybody is doing. Which would make a bit of sense as to why, for all its gorgeousness, Rome doesn't quite feel like my hometown. Not at this moment in my life. Because SEX isn't my word right now. It has been at other times of my life, but it isn't right now. Therefore, Rome's word, as it spins through the streets, just bumps against me and tumbles off, leaving no impact. I'm not participating in the word, so I'm not fully living here. It's a kooky theory, impossible to prove, but I sort of like it.
Giulio asked, "What's the word in New York City?"
I thought about this for a moment, then decided. "It's a verb, of course, I think it's ACHIEVE."
(Which is subtly but significantly different from the word in Los Angeles, I believe, which is also a verb: SUCCEED. Later, I will share this theory with my Swedish friend Sofie, and she will offer her opinion that the word on the streets of Stockholm is CONFORM, which depresses both of us.)"
___________________________________________________________
So what's my word?
Now that, I definitely cannot answer.
It's not SEX for sure. I can't even seem to remember the last time. SEX must have been my word some years back. It's not MARRIAGE, that's evident too. FAMILY? Nah. I am staying alone in NYC and happy about it. Am I entirely inhabiting New York City's word - ACHIEVE? I guess to some extent..maybe, I am not sure. Is my word PATIENCE? I am patiently awaiting the next few months, for decisions to be made, for new commitments to be made, for things to change, for new things to happen, for old bad occurences to pass. Yes, PATIENCE, maybe that's my word. It does not overall fit into NYC's word, and maybe that's why I am not that happy here. But yes, PATIENCE, it is....
Time
So Google came up with a new feature today, that allows you to go back in time. http://mail.google.com/mail/help/customtime/index.html
By the way, I am yet to believe this. I think this is an April Fool’s day hoax. But it just gives rise to a larger discussion about the sacredness of that one human invention that cannot go wrong – Time.
This is as close to a time-machine that you will ever get, a mass produced time-machine. You can send emails today to somebody wishing them for their birthday last month, and when the dear one accuses you of forgetting to wish them on their birthday, you can always claim innocent. In fact you can use the feature to blame the accuser of neglecting your emails and get a higher hand in the argument.
Already we have the facility of sending emails in the future. We can save an email in the drafts folder, and program to send it sometime in the later future.
With both these capabilities in place, today we can successfully claim to having achieved at least a semblance of Time Travel – the ability to travel back and forth in time similar to travelling back and forth between different points in space.
Here is more information on Time Travel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_travel
This is definitely an interesting feature as an experiment. But I do not support having this feature out in the public for everyone to misuse. In today’s virtual world, emails are considered sacred. It’s almost equivalent to written and signed off documents. Once you hit the send button, you are bound by your written word. Imagine a scenario like this: You are awaiting a response to an important query from one of the sponsors or vendors or the millions of other teams that you have to interface with in today’s collaborative world. The person who has to respond back is out playing golf or surfing or watching a movie or just in general being irresponsible. You reach a bottleneck and cannot proceed without the other team member’s input. Lots of money, time, energy and peace of mind is wasted in the meantime. Finally the person responds, but backdates his email response, so that it seems that he responded back in time. Now the gun is on your forehead, for having neglected the response.
This looks like one of those many features, which has an ample scope to be misused.
Even Gmail is limiting this feature to only 10 emails/year to any user. Their findings:
[(N x P) - /φ]/L = 10
N = Total emails sent
P = Probability that user believes the time stamp
φ = The Golden Ratio
L = Average life expectancy
I don’t know how the Gmail researchers came up with this formula, but my head tells me not at all. Not 10, not 1, not any. It’s a feature, which, if it falls into the wrong hands, can cause mass havoc. I like the comment left my one Mr. Michael L. on Gmail’s site: "This feature allows people to manipulate and mislead people with falsified time data. Time is a sacred truth that should never be tampered with."
On a more philosophical note, we are all aware of the direct, straightforward concept: time is motion. Time has a direction, and it is in that direction that it moves. This means that we live life according to a passing present moment. I am sure, ancient scholars, came up with the concept of time, and hours and days and months and years for some purpose. And by providing this feature of moving back and forth in time according to one’s free will, we are questioning the age old truth of the uniformity of time. That, there are 24 hours to each and every human being, regardless of your age, sex, nationality, race, educational background, etc. With this feature though, gmail users will have the additional facility of going back in time upto April 2004, at least 10 times a year. This means that gmail users have just added another (4*10) 40 years to their lives. So now think about this – Does time remain a uniform entity any more?
We need time. We need time to work, to eat, to sleep, and to accomplish all the daily chores of living. We also need time to know and understand our mates, our children, and our friends. Most of our relationships, daily tasks and other commitments, in fact, require more time than we have, and it is difficult to avoid the feeling that we could never have enough. Nor is our list of demands on our time complete. We have ignored the time we need to be alone, a necessary but invariably short- changed period.
With the increasing demand for more time, and the reducing supply of it, can the non-uniformity of time be counted as ethical anymore? Time was the last unfailing bastion of uniformity. Already monetary and physical sources of energy are no longer uniform. With time too falling prey to this, the future looks too bleak, from where we are standing today and looking at the past.
By the way, I am yet to believe this. I think this is an April Fool’s day hoax. But it just gives rise to a larger discussion about the sacredness of that one human invention that cannot go wrong – Time.
This is as close to a time-machine that you will ever get, a mass produced time-machine. You can send emails today to somebody wishing them for their birthday last month, and when the dear one accuses you of forgetting to wish them on their birthday, you can always claim innocent. In fact you can use the feature to blame the accuser of neglecting your emails and get a higher hand in the argument.
Already we have the facility of sending emails in the future. We can save an email in the drafts folder, and program to send it sometime in the later future.
With both these capabilities in place, today we can successfully claim to having achieved at least a semblance of Time Travel – the ability to travel back and forth in time similar to travelling back and forth between different points in space.
Here is more information on Time Travel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_travel
This is definitely an interesting feature as an experiment. But I do not support having this feature out in the public for everyone to misuse. In today’s virtual world, emails are considered sacred. It’s almost equivalent to written and signed off documents. Once you hit the send button, you are bound by your written word. Imagine a scenario like this: You are awaiting a response to an important query from one of the sponsors or vendors or the millions of other teams that you have to interface with in today’s collaborative world. The person who has to respond back is out playing golf or surfing or watching a movie or just in general being irresponsible. You reach a bottleneck and cannot proceed without the other team member’s input. Lots of money, time, energy and peace of mind is wasted in the meantime. Finally the person responds, but backdates his email response, so that it seems that he responded back in time. Now the gun is on your forehead, for having neglected the response.
This looks like one of those many features, which has an ample scope to be misused.
Even Gmail is limiting this feature to only 10 emails/year to any user. Their findings:
[(N x P) - /φ]/L = 10
N = Total emails sent
P = Probability that user believes the time stamp
φ = The Golden Ratio
L = Average life expectancy
I don’t know how the Gmail researchers came up with this formula, but my head tells me not at all. Not 10, not 1, not any. It’s a feature, which, if it falls into the wrong hands, can cause mass havoc. I like the comment left my one Mr. Michael L. on Gmail’s site: "This feature allows people to manipulate and mislead people with falsified time data. Time is a sacred truth that should never be tampered with."
On a more philosophical note, we are all aware of the direct, straightforward concept: time is motion. Time has a direction, and it is in that direction that it moves. This means that we live life according to a passing present moment. I am sure, ancient scholars, came up with the concept of time, and hours and days and months and years for some purpose. And by providing this feature of moving back and forth in time according to one’s free will, we are questioning the age old truth of the uniformity of time. That, there are 24 hours to each and every human being, regardless of your age, sex, nationality, race, educational background, etc. With this feature though, gmail users will have the additional facility of going back in time upto April 2004, at least 10 times a year. This means that gmail users have just added another (4*10) 40 years to their lives. So now think about this – Does time remain a uniform entity any more?
We need time. We need time to work, to eat, to sleep, and to accomplish all the daily chores of living. We also need time to know and understand our mates, our children, and our friends. Most of our relationships, daily tasks and other commitments, in fact, require more time than we have, and it is difficult to avoid the feeling that we could never have enough. Nor is our list of demands on our time complete. We have ignored the time we need to be alone, a necessary but invariably short- changed period.
With the increasing demand for more time, and the reducing supply of it, can the non-uniformity of time be counted as ethical anymore? Time was the last unfailing bastion of uniformity. Already monetary and physical sources of energy are no longer uniform. With time too falling prey to this, the future looks too bleak, from where we are standing today and looking at the past.
It's all bull @#$!
I wake up feeling perplexed. I grab the cell phone lying by the bed and look at the time - 2.27 am. I was dreaming about....shit???!!!
I have a bucket full of shit with me. I am running around my apartment block trying to hide it from others. People are walking up and down the stairs and some are going up and down using the elevators, and here I am dodging from one corner to another carrying this bucket with me. I am hiding it from all prying eyes, who are wondering what is it that I am hiding. And on top of that everybody's wondering what the stink is!
Anyone who knows how to interpret dreams? What does this one mean?
I have a bucket full of shit with me. I am running around my apartment block trying to hide it from others. People are walking up and down the stairs and some are going up and down using the elevators, and here I am dodging from one corner to another carrying this bucket with me. I am hiding it from all prying eyes, who are wondering what is it that I am hiding. And on top of that everybody's wondering what the stink is!
Anyone who knows how to interpret dreams? What does this one mean?
Friday, March 21, 2008
Silly bliss, busy love, silly busy
I dunno why - but these 3 phrases have been churning through my head all day today. The day started with me singing in the shower and thinking to myself when was the last time I just casually spent time massaging shampoo through my hair strands, my palm going over and over the same few strands of hair, again and again, enjoying the warmth of the water drops on my cold and fat body? I stood deep in thought under the shower for a while more. The time passed, I thought more about my last week at work, how silly busy I was. Yes, silly busy, not busy busy.
I thought of myself about 4 years back, when I was starting out on the fresh throes of undiscovered love. The feeling then was like probably when Columbus (was it Columbus? I might be wrong, well you will get the picture as you read along) discovered America. A sinking feeling that I know there is land somewhere, I just wish I land on it. And then bang, suddenly after days of sea wrecked fatiguing travel, a piece of land appears from nowhere. That feeling of exhilaration as he and the rest of his troupes might have felt as the ship approached land, with the mist settling on the green and brown chunk. And as you first step on the land, that feeling of discovering something new, something which only he has access to. Something, exploring which will take up the rest few weeks, or months of his life. Busy Love, yes that's the word. Love and catching up with that feeling that everyone talks about, keeps you busy for the next few months of your life.
And then again I thought how I was behaving at the end of Friday last week. I was happy for no apparent reason. Everything might not be going oh-so-right in your life at some time, but you might still feel those pangs of happiness. It feels good, but it is choking when you are at work. You cannot concentrate on work. You feel like picking up the phone and talking with anybody who is ready to listen. You feel like going shopping, eating out, singing, watching a movie, anything and everything that makes you happy. You are lucky if that feeling lasts for more than a few hours. But actually when it does, at the end of it, you begin wondering what was that about? I think it is called 'silly bliss'.
These phrases, they are still churning in my head. Wonder what it is about? Today is over, I wonder how I will feel tomorrow, I don't see any chance for busy love, anyways. Silly bliss? Maybe. Silly busy? Most probably.
I thought of myself about 4 years back, when I was starting out on the fresh throes of undiscovered love. The feeling then was like probably when Columbus (was it Columbus? I might be wrong, well you will get the picture as you read along) discovered America. A sinking feeling that I know there is land somewhere, I just wish I land on it. And then bang, suddenly after days of sea wrecked fatiguing travel, a piece of land appears from nowhere. That feeling of exhilaration as he and the rest of his troupes might have felt as the ship approached land, with the mist settling on the green and brown chunk. And as you first step on the land, that feeling of discovering something new, something which only he has access to. Something, exploring which will take up the rest few weeks, or months of his life. Busy Love, yes that's the word. Love and catching up with that feeling that everyone talks about, keeps you busy for the next few months of your life.
And then again I thought how I was behaving at the end of Friday last week. I was happy for no apparent reason. Everything might not be going oh-so-right in your life at some time, but you might still feel those pangs of happiness. It feels good, but it is choking when you are at work. You cannot concentrate on work. You feel like picking up the phone and talking with anybody who is ready to listen. You feel like going shopping, eating out, singing, watching a movie, anything and everything that makes you happy. You are lucky if that feeling lasts for more than a few hours. But actually when it does, at the end of it, you begin wondering what was that about? I think it is called 'silly bliss'.
These phrases, they are still churning in my head. Wonder what it is about? Today is over, I wonder how I will feel tomorrow, I don't see any chance for busy love, anyways. Silly bliss? Maybe. Silly busy? Most probably.
Whine up!
Warning: Today's one of those days when I get whiney. It happens often. At such times I suffocate my instincts to write, talk and socialize. But I just can't today. You are forewarned.
********************************
I constantly get into arguments with friends and acquaintances who say they have had a difficult life, and they went through lots of struggles. People who (I sincerely believe) had lives just very easy and when they get a small setback, they think they have had to go through a very rough patch. Well to each his own! But sometimes it just really pisses me off. I can't help it, I think mean at times.
At times I really think such people are kidding themselves - they get too airy-fairy, or stupid, on account of their easy and protected lives or their education. They lose touch with reality. Educated people, literary people, some rich people they lose touch with reality. Due to an unmerited good fortune or due to an innate silliness.
Silly people, full of boring knowledge and protected by some fluke from the truth about life. People who don't have to worry about holding on to their house and can go around thinking their complicated thoughts. Free to dream up the fine, generous schemes that they believe would make other people happy.
Such jerks!
I feel amused by their upbringing, able to think their harsh notions quaint.
They would probably not be good in a crisis. Not good at basic survival tactics, not able to live even a single day of "28 days later", not able to scrounge for food and not able to tend to a dying friend on the street.
And inspite of all my practicality, I look at myself where I have ended. Or not ended. Probably, the better way to phrase it might be - where I am right now. With my practicality I often believed that I would be better off than where I am right now. This often happens to the practical people. Inspite of their calculations, survival instincts, they might not get as far as they had quite reasonably expected. No doubt life seems unfair. No doubt I whine.
********************************
I constantly get into arguments with friends and acquaintances who say they have had a difficult life, and they went through lots of struggles. People who (I sincerely believe) had lives just very easy and when they get a small setback, they think they have had to go through a very rough patch. Well to each his own! But sometimes it just really pisses me off. I can't help it, I think mean at times.
At times I really think such people are kidding themselves - they get too airy-fairy, or stupid, on account of their easy and protected lives or their education. They lose touch with reality. Educated people, literary people, some rich people they lose touch with reality. Due to an unmerited good fortune or due to an innate silliness.
Silly people, full of boring knowledge and protected by some fluke from the truth about life. People who don't have to worry about holding on to their house and can go around thinking their complicated thoughts. Free to dream up the fine, generous schemes that they believe would make other people happy.
Such jerks!
I feel amused by their upbringing, able to think their harsh notions quaint.
They would probably not be good in a crisis. Not good at basic survival tactics, not able to live even a single day of "28 days later", not able to scrounge for food and not able to tend to a dying friend on the street.
And inspite of all my practicality, I look at myself where I have ended. Or not ended. Probably, the better way to phrase it might be - where I am right now. With my practicality I often believed that I would be better off than where I am right now. This often happens to the practical people. Inspite of their calculations, survival instincts, they might not get as far as they had quite reasonably expected. No doubt life seems unfair. No doubt I whine.
Friday, March 7, 2008
roti, kapda aur MAKAN
Weird are the experiences that people have apartment hunting in NYC (or for that matter any big city in the world, I would say). I am sure that this is one topic which most of the commonplace populace would relate to. In 'Roti, Kapda aur Makan', it is the Makan which is the most difficult of all three to possess. It's much much more expensive, and its supply scarce, and getting a dream place to stay is well, a dream for most of us. I should be thankful to God that I have a good place to stay. That it comes with one major issue (it's far from the subway station - about a 15 minutes walk) is something that I choose to overlook nowadays, given some of my other friends' roommates / landlord / househunting situations.
A friend of mine from Mumbai had been living with me for the past 2 months. I offered that he could live with me as long as he did not find a place to stay. His previous roommate experience in Astoria, Queens was no less than a traumatic one and hence I exhorted him to rather take his time and find a good place with a good roommate and if luck is favoring him, a good landlord / landlady.
He finally found a place to stay after about 60 days of hectic searching, and he is due to move out today. It's a 300 (or 280) sq ft. studio in Soho which he has to share with another 40 (or older) yr old lady. The location is good, the facilities are good, the roommate seems decent and there is no landlord to deal with, the rent is cheap - 800 bucks, but of course there is a major catch. It's so small for Chrissakes! How can two people live happily in such a small place without constantly invading each other's space? It seems a big compromise for me, but my roomie, or rather my ex-roomie thinks that this was the best deal he could find in more than 2 months of searching and hence he is sticking with it. I have my skeptical thoughts, but I am happy for him if so less makes him so happy.
He thinks that this is the best deal, because here are some of his previous experiences when he went out apartment hunting: Another tiny apartment in Manhattan which had 6 dogs in it along with the landlord and still the landlord thought that there was room for another prospective tenant. A decent sized apartment in Manhattan, with decent rent too, which came with a catch - the landlord wanted the prospective tenant to be 'comfortable' with nudity. Hell no! I am not comfortable with my own nudity, let me speak less about somebody else's nudity. When I asked my ex-roomie, was he at least good looking, in the sense would the landlord's nudity be at least a pleasant one, he answered that that landlord was fat and old and bald and had this huge paunch. Good for him if he is comfortable with his nude body. I am not, and neither was my ex-roomie. Then there was this another huge 4 bed room apartment he found again in the city, and the rent was steep. Although the rent was steep, since it was a good location and the place was good, he was ok with it. But then it was another humongous task having to find three other roommates to share the place. Not all prospective roommates were fun. Those who were normal (and thus, fun) could not afford the steep rent. Some did not want to move in immediately, because their lease at their previous places would have ended in another 1-2 months and hence they were just looking. There were an awful huge number of variables, and finally none of the prospective roomies even moved up to being probable roomies. I forget the other apartment hunting disasters, but nevertheless they all had something wrong with them. Finally my friend here thinks that getting a 280 sq ft apartment in Manhattan to share is a 'good' deal. Well, good luck to him!
Living with a woman is not so easy. Men, when with other men can be easy going, laid back and can even change in front of other men. They can talk about sports, beer, senseless movies and they could bother less about cooking and cleaning. That is in general when it comes to men. I don't know how my ex-roomie will cope living with a woman. And not only any woman, a considerably older woman. I wished to narrate to him this anecdote from Phillip Lopate's collection of personal essays "Against Joie De Vivre":
"Another time I sublet in Tribeca from a stylishly pretty woman: her silk kimonos, her peignoirs, her sachets cohabited with my undershorts and T-shirts in the limited dresser space. Not only did I have the pleasure of sleeping in this glamorous woman's bed, albeit without her, I also experienced myself for fractions of a second as a glamorous woman. The low angle of her showerhead, the scent of her oval bath soap, the pegboard arrangement of her pots and pans, all subtly feminized me: by going through her daily motions I was camping in her psyche, my muscles mimicking her reach, my eye level learning to emulate hers."
I can only imagine my subtly feminized ex-roomie after his stint at his new place.
This reminds me of another friend of mine, who having lived as a roomie for God knows how long, decided to finally stay on his own. He had had a raise at his job and he decided to say good-bye to any roomie situations. He is a grown up man now and can live on his own. He decided that he deserves his own space, in midtown or maybe the East Village. A broker showed him a cramped, overpriced studio off Second Avenue. He balked—after all, he’s a grown fella; doesn’t he deserve a little space? He dismissed the broker and started obsessively scanning the rental listings on Craigslist (ah! What would we all do without Craigslist), determined to find an affordable one-bedroom with no fee.
After responding to hundreds of listings and visiting more than twenty apartments — all of which were either dilapidated, vermin-infested, meth-lab-adjacent, or some combination of the three — the search began to wear on him, and he started questioning why he was so fixated on getting a one-bedroom. After all, he’s a single man, and doesn’t he spend all his time at work anyway? Besides, with some creative light-palate decorating and a new flat-screen TV, a studio could look quite spacious. After a few days, this logic sinks in and he not only signs a two-year lease for the Second Avenue place but also recommended the broker to several other freinds of his. Two months later, he broke his leg tragically when he rolled out of his bed and directly into the trash compactor. He is still walking on crutches.
Phillip Lopate in "Against Joie De Vivre" had a few particularly fascinating essays on life in a rented space in the Big Apple. So in his chapter "Never live above your landlord" he narrates this particularly funny tale:
"One day this note was slipped under my door:
Please do not use the wash basin to empty the dirt and the cat litter in. Use a pail and throw it in your toilet. This past week, the Basin was Packed full of junk. And we used $9.95 worth of Drain Power. Then I had to get the Plumber to dislodge the dirt. Let the water run to clear the drain in that sink. Please throw the stuff in the toilet and flush. Next thing the pipes will get leaking.
- Mrs. Rourke
My answer:
Dear Mrs. Rourke,
What makes you think I am emptying cat litter and dirt in the wash basin!! This is an absurd contention. Please make sure you know whereof you speak before you start making baseless and frankly, fantastic accusations.
Sincerely,
Phillip Lopate
I held my breath for the next few days, thinking that perhaps I had gone too far this time. Yet when I ran into my landlady in the hallway, she was almost respectful. Not that our epistolary relationship ended there. I keep all the notes she slips under my door, among which is this quaintly worded favorite:
Please stop that
Jungle Drum Music
_________________
Or whatever it is.
_________________
I'm going out of my mind.
Bang Bang Bang
- Mrs. Rourke
Since I don't often listen to music, I was a bit insulted at the time, but I turned off the jazz station I had on."
It's my ex-roomie's last day with me today. As he is packing his stuff and leaving, I am feeling a bit elated - I have the Whole space to myself, a bit upset - who will I try and find faults about now, a bit excited - I can get more people home now, a bit generous - I helped him out when he needed some help and a bit lonely - who will I come home to? As I said previously, Good luck to him! He will need all of it.
A friend of mine from Mumbai had been living with me for the past 2 months. I offered that he could live with me as long as he did not find a place to stay. His previous roommate experience in Astoria, Queens was no less than a traumatic one and hence I exhorted him to rather take his time and find a good place with a good roommate and if luck is favoring him, a good landlord / landlady.
He finally found a place to stay after about 60 days of hectic searching, and he is due to move out today. It's a 300 (or 280) sq ft. studio in Soho which he has to share with another 40 (or older) yr old lady. The location is good, the facilities are good, the roommate seems decent and there is no landlord to deal with, the rent is cheap - 800 bucks, but of course there is a major catch. It's so small for Chrissakes! How can two people live happily in such a small place without constantly invading each other's space? It seems a big compromise for me, but my roomie, or rather my ex-roomie thinks that this was the best deal he could find in more than 2 months of searching and hence he is sticking with it. I have my skeptical thoughts, but I am happy for him if so less makes him so happy.
He thinks that this is the best deal, because here are some of his previous experiences when he went out apartment hunting: Another tiny apartment in Manhattan which had 6 dogs in it along with the landlord and still the landlord thought that there was room for another prospective tenant. A decent sized apartment in Manhattan, with decent rent too, which came with a catch - the landlord wanted the prospective tenant to be 'comfortable' with nudity. Hell no! I am not comfortable with my own nudity, let me speak less about somebody else's nudity. When I asked my ex-roomie, was he at least good looking, in the sense would the landlord's nudity be at least a pleasant one, he answered that that landlord was fat and old and bald and had this huge paunch. Good for him if he is comfortable with his nude body. I am not, and neither was my ex-roomie. Then there was this another huge 4 bed room apartment he found again in the city, and the rent was steep. Although the rent was steep, since it was a good location and the place was good, he was ok with it. But then it was another humongous task having to find three other roommates to share the place. Not all prospective roommates were fun. Those who were normal (and thus, fun) could not afford the steep rent. Some did not want to move in immediately, because their lease at their previous places would have ended in another 1-2 months and hence they were just looking. There were an awful huge number of variables, and finally none of the prospective roomies even moved up to being probable roomies. I forget the other apartment hunting disasters, but nevertheless they all had something wrong with them. Finally my friend here thinks that getting a 280 sq ft apartment in Manhattan to share is a 'good' deal. Well, good luck to him!
Living with a woman is not so easy. Men, when with other men can be easy going, laid back and can even change in front of other men. They can talk about sports, beer, senseless movies and they could bother less about cooking and cleaning. That is in general when it comes to men. I don't know how my ex-roomie will cope living with a woman. And not only any woman, a considerably older woman. I wished to narrate to him this anecdote from Phillip Lopate's collection of personal essays "Against Joie De Vivre":
"Another time I sublet in Tribeca from a stylishly pretty woman: her silk kimonos, her peignoirs, her sachets cohabited with my undershorts and T-shirts in the limited dresser space. Not only did I have the pleasure of sleeping in this glamorous woman's bed, albeit without her, I also experienced myself for fractions of a second as a glamorous woman. The low angle of her showerhead, the scent of her oval bath soap, the pegboard arrangement of her pots and pans, all subtly feminized me: by going through her daily motions I was camping in her psyche, my muscles mimicking her reach, my eye level learning to emulate hers."
I can only imagine my subtly feminized ex-roomie after his stint at his new place.
This reminds me of another friend of mine, who having lived as a roomie for God knows how long, decided to finally stay on his own. He had had a raise at his job and he decided to say good-bye to any roomie situations. He is a grown up man now and can live on his own. He decided that he deserves his own space, in midtown or maybe the East Village. A broker showed him a cramped, overpriced studio off Second Avenue. He balked—after all, he’s a grown fella; doesn’t he deserve a little space? He dismissed the broker and started obsessively scanning the rental listings on Craigslist (ah! What would we all do without Craigslist), determined to find an affordable one-bedroom with no fee.
After responding to hundreds of listings and visiting more than twenty apartments — all of which were either dilapidated, vermin-infested, meth-lab-adjacent, or some combination of the three — the search began to wear on him, and he started questioning why he was so fixated on getting a one-bedroom. After all, he’s a single man, and doesn’t he spend all his time at work anyway? Besides, with some creative light-palate decorating and a new flat-screen TV, a studio could look quite spacious. After a few days, this logic sinks in and he not only signs a two-year lease for the Second Avenue place but also recommended the broker to several other freinds of his. Two months later, he broke his leg tragically when he rolled out of his bed and directly into the trash compactor. He is still walking on crutches.
Phillip Lopate in "Against Joie De Vivre" had a few particularly fascinating essays on life in a rented space in the Big Apple. So in his chapter "Never live above your landlord" he narrates this particularly funny tale:
"One day this note was slipped under my door:
Please do not use the wash basin to empty the dirt and the cat litter in. Use a pail and throw it in your toilet. This past week, the Basin was Packed full of junk. And we used $9.95 worth of Drain Power. Then I had to get the Plumber to dislodge the dirt. Let the water run to clear the drain in that sink. Please throw the stuff in the toilet and flush. Next thing the pipes will get leaking.
- Mrs. Rourke
My answer:
Dear Mrs. Rourke,
What makes you think I am emptying cat litter and dirt in the wash basin!! This is an absurd contention. Please make sure you know whereof you speak before you start making baseless and frankly, fantastic accusations.
Sincerely,
Phillip Lopate
I held my breath for the next few days, thinking that perhaps I had gone too far this time. Yet when I ran into my landlady in the hallway, she was almost respectful. Not that our epistolary relationship ended there. I keep all the notes she slips under my door, among which is this quaintly worded favorite:
Please stop that
Jungle Drum Music
_________________
Or whatever it is.
_________________
I'm going out of my mind.
Bang Bang Bang
- Mrs. Rourke
Since I don't often listen to music, I was a bit insulted at the time, but I turned off the jazz station I had on."
It's my ex-roomie's last day with me today. As he is packing his stuff and leaving, I am feeling a bit elated - I have the Whole space to myself, a bit upset - who will I try and find faults about now, a bit excited - I can get more people home now, a bit generous - I helped him out when he needed some help and a bit lonely - who will I come home to? As I said previously, Good luck to him! He will need all of it.
Book Review: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
As you begin reading Jean-Dominique Bauby's 'The Diving Bell and the Butterfly', you realize that probably you are holding a minor piece of miracle in your hands. The observative notes penned down with Bauby's eyes are so lyrical and melodious that you take flight similar to the author's imagination like a butterfly. Bear in mind that the author was suffering from Locked-In Syndrome when the book was written, which is normally believed to prevent its victims from communicating at all. Not only is the book a living example of the author's determination to win against all odds, but also it is so beautifully written that you begin to appreciate the book not out of sympathy to the author's condition but out of sheer enjoyment from the written word.
Bauby's condition called the "locked-in syndrome" paralyzed his entire body in such a debilitating manner that the only part of his body that could move was his left eye lid. That he managed to devise a communication pattern with that eye lid in an easy to understand manner is laudable in itself. That he managed to compose all his thoughts and successfully communicate them to an interpreter and get a book published out of it, is another remarkable feat. And that rather than wallowing in self-pity, the book manages to transport the reader to another land of mystic lyricism is a complete miracle. This is a remarkable achievement for a man who was obliged to compose and refine every sentence in his head, remember it, and then dictate it letter-by-letter with coded blinks of his left eyelid - the only part of his body which he could still control. As the author says "My main task now is to compose the first of these bedridden travel notes so that I shall be ready when my publisher's emissary arrives to take my dictation, letter by letter. In my head I churn over every sentence ten times, delete a word, add an adjective, and learn my text by heart, paragraph by paragraph."
The 'Butterfly' part of the title is referring to the author's active imagination. Which, I don't need to mention again, is the master scripter of this book. The 'Diving bell' part of the title is the author's physical condition, he is imprisoned in this 'giant invisible diving bell'. The author's butterfly apirations lead him out of his desperate situation in his diving bell. This is how the author describes the constant struggle between the Diving bell and the Butterfly: "My diving bell becomes less oppressive and I take flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas' court. You can visit the woman you love, slide down beside her and stroke her still sleeping face. You can build castles in Spain, steal the Golden Fleece, discover Atlantis, realize your childhood dreams and adult ambitions"
Given his condition, it is quite expected that this crucible for the author might have driven him to the deepest gorges of despair. But rather than focus on how bad his situation is, and revel in attention out of self-pity, the author focusses on the beauty of life. How when you have an active and busy life, you do not focus on all those things that just pass by you. How life just happens to you, when you are busy making other plans. How lovely the world is, how beautiful the people are, how things are not so bad even when it seems so. How he is lucky to have at least one of his eyelids functioning, otherwise he would have had to get even his left eyelid sewn like his right eyelid. Now with one eyelid functioning, at least that one is free to blink, he is free to see and he is free to communicate. This is how he describes his inner turmoil when the doctor gets to sewing his non-functioning eyelid:
'I have known gentler awakenings. When I came to that late-January morning, the hospital opthalmologist was leaning over me and sewing my right eyelid shut with a needle and thread, just as he were darning a sock. Irrational terror swept over me. What if this man got carried away and sewed up my left eye as well, my only link to the outside world, the only window to my cell, the one tiny opening of my diving bell? Luckily as it turns out, I wasn't plunged into darkness. He carefully packed away his sewing kit in padded tin boxes.'
Reliant on others for every trivial yet painful detail of his physical existence, Bauby yet manages to joke. "They had to place a special cushion behind my head: it was wobbling about like the head of one of those African women upon removal of the stack of rings that has been stretching her neck for years." or "I can find it amusing in my forty-fifth year, to be cleaned up and turned over, to have my bottom wiped and swaddled like a newborn's. I even derive a guilty pleasure from this total lapse into infancy." In one of the chapters he even contemplates the extermination of an irritatingly noisy toy duck. More than anything else, his determination, spirit and inner energy shine through, as he invents film scenarios, travel adventures and a play, he even makes up an inventive new fruit cocktail (the recipe for which is not mentioned in the book).
Jean-Dominique Bauby died in March, 1997, at the age of forty-five, fifteen months after suffering the massive stroke which damaged his brain-stem and left him with an active mind in a paralysed body. He died in a span of less than a week after his book was published. His book is a remarkable achievement by a brave and determined man. His book speaks volumes about the indefatigable spirit of the human soul, which refuses to cow down even in the bleakest of scenarios.
Bauby's condition called the "locked-in syndrome" paralyzed his entire body in such a debilitating manner that the only part of his body that could move was his left eye lid. That he managed to devise a communication pattern with that eye lid in an easy to understand manner is laudable in itself. That he managed to compose all his thoughts and successfully communicate them to an interpreter and get a book published out of it, is another remarkable feat. And that rather than wallowing in self-pity, the book manages to transport the reader to another land of mystic lyricism is a complete miracle. This is a remarkable achievement for a man who was obliged to compose and refine every sentence in his head, remember it, and then dictate it letter-by-letter with coded blinks of his left eyelid - the only part of his body which he could still control. As the author says "My main task now is to compose the first of these bedridden travel notes so that I shall be ready when my publisher's emissary arrives to take my dictation, letter by letter. In my head I churn over every sentence ten times, delete a word, add an adjective, and learn my text by heart, paragraph by paragraph."
The 'Butterfly' part of the title is referring to the author's active imagination. Which, I don't need to mention again, is the master scripter of this book. The 'Diving bell' part of the title is the author's physical condition, he is imprisoned in this 'giant invisible diving bell'. The author's butterfly apirations lead him out of his desperate situation in his diving bell. This is how the author describes the constant struggle between the Diving bell and the Butterfly: "My diving bell becomes less oppressive and I take flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas' court. You can visit the woman you love, slide down beside her and stroke her still sleeping face. You can build castles in Spain, steal the Golden Fleece, discover Atlantis, realize your childhood dreams and adult ambitions"
Given his condition, it is quite expected that this crucible for the author might have driven him to the deepest gorges of despair. But rather than focus on how bad his situation is, and revel in attention out of self-pity, the author focusses on the beauty of life. How when you have an active and busy life, you do not focus on all those things that just pass by you. How life just happens to you, when you are busy making other plans. How lovely the world is, how beautiful the people are, how things are not so bad even when it seems so. How he is lucky to have at least one of his eyelids functioning, otherwise he would have had to get even his left eyelid sewn like his right eyelid. Now with one eyelid functioning, at least that one is free to blink, he is free to see and he is free to communicate. This is how he describes his inner turmoil when the doctor gets to sewing his non-functioning eyelid:
'I have known gentler awakenings. When I came to that late-January morning, the hospital opthalmologist was leaning over me and sewing my right eyelid shut with a needle and thread, just as he were darning a sock. Irrational terror swept over me. What if this man got carried away and sewed up my left eye as well, my only link to the outside world, the only window to my cell, the one tiny opening of my diving bell? Luckily as it turns out, I wasn't plunged into darkness. He carefully packed away his sewing kit in padded tin boxes.'
Reliant on others for every trivial yet painful detail of his physical existence, Bauby yet manages to joke. "They had to place a special cushion behind my head: it was wobbling about like the head of one of those African women upon removal of the stack of rings that has been stretching her neck for years." or "I can find it amusing in my forty-fifth year, to be cleaned up and turned over, to have my bottom wiped and swaddled like a newborn's. I even derive a guilty pleasure from this total lapse into infancy." In one of the chapters he even contemplates the extermination of an irritatingly noisy toy duck. More than anything else, his determination, spirit and inner energy shine through, as he invents film scenarios, travel adventures and a play, he even makes up an inventive new fruit cocktail (the recipe for which is not mentioned in the book).
Jean-Dominique Bauby died in March, 1997, at the age of forty-five, fifteen months after suffering the massive stroke which damaged his brain-stem and left him with an active mind in a paralysed body. He died in a span of less than a week after his book was published. His book is a remarkable achievement by a brave and determined man. His book speaks volumes about the indefatigable spirit of the human soul, which refuses to cow down even in the bleakest of scenarios.
War of the Words - II
Following this post of mine I had a conversation with some of my friends about what are those written communication errors that really look bad. In an effort to look smart and generally bright, we tend to be extra careful before we hit that 'Send' button on our email applications, because once sent, it cannot be retrieved. However with our hectic work schedules, we sometimes tend to overlook these common errors. I am listing these down here for my own reference, so that I do not make the same mistakes when I send out my emails:
1) Loose for lose
Wrong: I tend to loose my notes
Right: I tend to lose my notes
2) It’s for its
Wrong: Send me the details of the installation along with it's product key
Right: Send me the details of the installation along with its product key
3) They’re for their or there
Wrong: Their not happy about the repeated requests we are making
Right: They're not happy about the repeated requests we are making
4) Effect for affect
Wrong: The outage shouldn't effect the following applications
Right: The outage shouldn't affect the following applications
5) Then for than
Wrong: We had more problems then we anticipated.
Right: We had more problems than we anticipated.
Ya, and this last one which I saw and was reminded of by Mr. Truitt's character in the movie 'The Opposite of Sex' last night
Wrong: I could care less about what they think
Right: I couldn't care less about what they think
1) Loose for lose
Wrong: I tend to loose my notes
Right: I tend to lose my notes
2) It’s for its
Wrong: Send me the details of the installation along with it's product key
Right: Send me the details of the installation along with its product key
3) They’re for their or there
Wrong: Their not happy about the repeated requests we are making
Right: They're not happy about the repeated requests we are making
4) Effect for affect
Wrong: The outage shouldn't effect the following applications
Right: The outage shouldn't affect the following applications
5) Then for than
Wrong: We had more problems then we anticipated.
Right: We had more problems than we anticipated.
Ya, and this last one which I saw and was reminded of by Mr. Truitt's character in the movie 'The Opposite of Sex' last night
Wrong: I could care less about what they think
Right: I couldn't care less about what they think
Requirements Engineering
I have often been asked by many of my non IT colleagues about what I do for a living. And when I tell them what I do, it often makes no sense with anyone. When it comes to IT, the most that the layman can follow is either writing the code to develop applications, or maybe the bit about testing the application. And while requirements analysis is an integral part of software development, it is considered as one of the less glamorous cousins of the technical architecture designing or even the development. The BAs in a project are considered as talkers who do nothing else but talk, and if any project needs to cut costs, its generally the BA who faces the axe. After all, anyone can talk...and thereby gather and analyse the requirements.
So I was quite happy to come across this white paper online today.
While it says exactly what I do for a living, the bit which impressed me the most was the problems that I face during the process of requirements engineering. Here is that excerpt which talks about these hurdles, and which science to approach to overcome those:
1) Cognitive psychology provides an understanding of the difficulties people may have in describing their needs. For example, problem domain experts often have large amounts of tacit knowledge that is not amenable to introspection; hence their answers to questions posed by requirements analysts may not match their behaviour. Also, the requirements engineer may need to model users’ understanding of software user interfaces , rather than relying solely on implementers’ preferences.
2) Anthropology provides a methodological approach to observing human activities that helps to develop a richer understanding of how computer systems may help or hinder those activities. For example, the techniques of ethnomethodology have been applied in RE to develop observational techniques for analysing collaborative work and team interaction.
3) Sociology provides an understanding of the political and cultural changes caused by computerisation. Introduction of a new computer system changes the nature of the work carried out within an organisation, may affect the structure and communication paths within that organisation, and may even change the original needs that it was built to satisfy. A requirements gathering exercise can therefore become politicised. Approaches to RE that address this issue include the “Scandinavian” approach, which aims to involve in the requirements definition process those most affected by the outcomes.
4) Linguistics is important because RE is largely about communication. Linguistic analyses have changed the way in which the English language is used in specifications, for instance to avoid ambiguity and to improve understandability. Tools from linguistics can also be used in requirements elicitation, for instance to analyse communication patterns within an organisation.
Requirements Engineering must concern itself with an understanding of beliefs of stakeholders (epistemology), the question of what is observable in the world (phenomenology), and the question of what can be agreed on as objectively true
(ontology)."
Interesting!
So I was quite happy to come across this white paper online today.
While it says exactly what I do for a living, the bit which impressed me the most was the problems that I face during the process of requirements engineering. Here is that excerpt which talks about these hurdles, and which science to approach to overcome those:
1) Cognitive psychology provides an understanding of the difficulties people may have in describing their needs. For example, problem domain experts often have large amounts of tacit knowledge that is not amenable to introspection; hence their answers to questions posed by requirements analysts may not match their behaviour. Also, the requirements engineer may need to model users’ understanding of software user interfaces , rather than relying solely on implementers’ preferences.
2) Anthropology provides a methodological approach to observing human activities that helps to develop a richer understanding of how computer systems may help or hinder those activities. For example, the techniques of ethnomethodology have been applied in RE to develop observational techniques for analysing collaborative work and team interaction.
3) Sociology provides an understanding of the political and cultural changes caused by computerisation. Introduction of a new computer system changes the nature of the work carried out within an organisation, may affect the structure and communication paths within that organisation, and may even change the original needs that it was built to satisfy. A requirements gathering exercise can therefore become politicised. Approaches to RE that address this issue include the “Scandinavian” approach, which aims to involve in the requirements definition process those most affected by the outcomes.
4) Linguistics is important because RE is largely about communication. Linguistic analyses have changed the way in which the English language is used in specifications, for instance to avoid ambiguity and to improve understandability. Tools from linguistics can also be used in requirements elicitation, for instance to analyse communication patterns within an organisation.
Requirements Engineering must concern itself with an understanding of beliefs of stakeholders (epistemology), the question of what is observable in the world (phenomenology), and the question of what can be agreed on as objectively true
(ontology)."
Interesting!
Friday, February 22, 2008
Jodha Akbar, Khoda Pahaad, Phoda Dimaag...
I was thinking of more expletives to express my frustration at this ridiculously lengthy movie, but I decided to restrain myself. At the intermission I told my friend who was accompanying me at the movie "This seems to be the longest day of my life and I can't believe that there are still 2 more hours to go". After more than 12 hours of roaming about the city for whatever reasons, another 3 and a half hours of Bollywood just killed my spirits for the day. I had a throbbing headache by the end of it and while the movie hall was just a few minutes' walk from home, I could no longer walk. In the cab back from the theatre to home, I was blessing the cab driver for the ride home. Yes, it is thaaaaat long.
Don't get me wrong. This is not a bad movie, it is just too long. It could have been easily cut short to a 120 - 150 minutes sweet romantic movie about love blossoming between a married couple, who were initially not in love. What killed the movie is the unnecessary wandering of the story along tangential sub-plots not core to the heart of the movie.
The basic premise of the movie is a very touching and not much heard of love story - the marriage (for administrative reasons) and the subsequent love affair between the Moghul Moslem King Akbar (played by Hrithik Roshan) and the Rajput Hindu Princess Jodhabai (played by Aishwarya Rai). The ice princess and the handsome prince meet again (post Dhoom 2) in this brand new effort by the director, Ashutosh Gowariker (Lagaan, Swades). At the very outset, it should be mentioned both the lead actors sizzle in this role which looks almost tailor-made for them. It's not that they have done their career-best acting in this movie, but both of them definitely look the part. They have also acted reasonably well, lending tremendous credence to their casting as Jodha and Akbar.
I would not get into the plot nitty-gritties, because truly there is not too much of a story to be told here. Not being a great history buff myself, I do not know how factually true or false the movie is. I would give Gowariker his freedom for artistic creativity, and move on. The alliance between Jodha and Akbar was due to administrative and political reasons. The Rajput King of Amer, Jodha's father (played by Khulbhushan Kharbanda) had to seek for protection from the great Moghul empire to prevent other warring forces from entering his kingdom. Also since the rest of the Rajput Kings refused to let any alliances happen between people from their kingdoms and the people of Amer, Jodha's Rajput King was left with no suitable princely alliance for Jodha. In what seemed to make political sense, Jodha's father promised Jodha's hand in marriage to King Akbar in return for his promise to protect his kingdom of Amer if there were any battles with the opposing camps. For obviously other political reasons which the story unfolds, Akbar decides to take up the offer. How the marriage of convenience actually blossoms into love, given the religious and cultural differences between the two in the 16th century royalty forms the crux of the story.
When the story sticks to this basic premise, it works. Maybe in those bits and pieces primarily when the movie focusses on the blossoming romance between its protagonists - their attraction towards each other, their little squabbles, their dilemmas, etc. The rest of the film seems weighed down by a pressing need to live up to the proclaimed scale. In what seems to be one of the major troubles of the movie making lore of the day, big-budget films are hyped to be big in every scale even while they are being written. That Gowariker fell prey to the sales pitch and expectations, and chose to follow them rather than his own inner vision when the idea for this movie might have sprung in his head, is unfortunate. Hence the romance works, but the history, seems to be getting laboriously in the way. We have long drawn battle sequences, directing which does not seem to be Gowariker's forte. For evidently cheaper labor wage reasons in India as compared to using CGI wizardry to create the battle forces, I feel Gowariker must have chosen to use real-life people in the battle sequences. And that brings to the screen one of the few cringeworthy sequences in the movie. I'm sure thousands of extras are impossible to control, but the battle sequences are childish to an embarassing extreme. While they are well captured on the camera (thanks to excellent cinematography by Kiran Deohans), it is poorly executed. It seemed like a rerun of the centuries old Ramayana days from Doordarshan - ill-equipped soldiers listlessly moving their swords in thin air while also restraining themselves. Robotic movements where the swords are swung first left, then right, then left again, and pow! one of the battling duo pumps the sword into the other and you throw some tomato sauce on the slit soldier's torso.
And that brings me back to my main gripe with this movie - its devastating lack of budgeting with the financial resources and with the longevity of the movie. Mr. Gowariker needs to be taught the art of editing, and the art of learning how to cut the crap from your reels. If it takes 3 hours of reel time in a 3 hr 28 minute movie for your hero to woo the heroine and merely get to touch her, I guess I am smarter than Emperor Akbar. I definitely take less than 3 hours in real life.
I could go on about the length of the movie, but there are of course many masterful strokes too in this movie. That Ms Rai is not a great actress at any level, is something most of us are aware of. If directed well, she can do a reasonably good job (case in example - Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Provoked). In what seems to be telling tall tales of Gowariker's cinematic prowess, he has given very few dialogues to be mouthed to Aishwarya. He has left her beautiful eyes to do all the talking. And Ms Rai is beautifully restrained in the movie, which works wonders for the movie. Hrithik Roshan also looks valiant and macho in the role of Akbar. He simply has to smoulder and brood in many scenes in the movie, which he does a good job of. He seems to be getting better with each of his newer movies that I see. The movie also has a great supporting cast. Raza Murad (as Emperor Akbar's advisor Khan Baba) is brilliant, just his vocal inflections and the deep baritone of his voice sounds like magic. Ila Arun (as Emperor Akbar's foster mother) almost hams it up, but also manages to steal the scenes from Aishwarya when the two of them are face-to-face. However I was terribly dissatisfied with the 3-4 scenes in which Suhasini Mulay (as Jodha's mother) was present. A brilliant actress that she is, she seems totally wasted in this role and seems to have an ineffective smile plastered on her face throughout.
What brings this movie to an entirely upper level is A R Rahman's lilting music. The songs are not too many and rightly placed in the movie, and while I believe when heard in isolation the songs might not seem that great, in the context of the movie and the way it is picturised the songs are simply beautiful. The beautiful 'Khwaja mere Khwaja' and the melodic 'Kehne ko jashne - bahara hai' really take your breath away. And 'Khwaja mere Khwaja' is indeed lyrically picturised as well. When the Sufi-esque tunes of this song reach heights, Gowariker pulls off a magical scene in which Hrithik enchanted by the music gets up from his throne and begins to sway to the tune, going round and round, lending a heavenly touch to the scene.
And once more I would like to mention the brilliant cinematography by Kiran Deohans in the movie, especially the palace's beautiful interiors and the breathtaking desert scenes, so also the warfront. Costumes by Neeta Lulla and Nitin Desai's sets also deserve ample praise. Being the period epic that it is, never once did the sets draw attention away from the main course of the movie (unlike the pointless monstrosities erected in SLB's Black and Saawariya).
The more I think about it, the more I feel that there are quite a few good scenes and many other positives in this movie, and I hate it lesser and lesser as I write more. Maybe I was just tired through a hectic day's activities that this long movie simply did not work for me anymore. How I wish Ashutosh had focussed on the romance between Jodha and Akbar, and not fallen into the big-budget trappings. That would truly have been a great movie. Sigh!
Don't get me wrong. This is not a bad movie, it is just too long. It could have been easily cut short to a 120 - 150 minutes sweet romantic movie about love blossoming between a married couple, who were initially not in love. What killed the movie is the unnecessary wandering of the story along tangential sub-plots not core to the heart of the movie.
The basic premise of the movie is a very touching and not much heard of love story - the marriage (for administrative reasons) and the subsequent love affair between the Moghul Moslem King Akbar (played by Hrithik Roshan) and the Rajput Hindu Princess Jodhabai (played by Aishwarya Rai). The ice princess and the handsome prince meet again (post Dhoom 2) in this brand new effort by the director, Ashutosh Gowariker (Lagaan, Swades). At the very outset, it should be mentioned both the lead actors sizzle in this role which looks almost tailor-made for them. It's not that they have done their career-best acting in this movie, but both of them definitely look the part. They have also acted reasonably well, lending tremendous credence to their casting as Jodha and Akbar.
I would not get into the plot nitty-gritties, because truly there is not too much of a story to be told here. Not being a great history buff myself, I do not know how factually true or false the movie is. I would give Gowariker his freedom for artistic creativity, and move on. The alliance between Jodha and Akbar was due to administrative and political reasons. The Rajput King of Amer, Jodha's father (played by Khulbhushan Kharbanda) had to seek for protection from the great Moghul empire to prevent other warring forces from entering his kingdom. Also since the rest of the Rajput Kings refused to let any alliances happen between people from their kingdoms and the people of Amer, Jodha's Rajput King was left with no suitable princely alliance for Jodha. In what seemed to make political sense, Jodha's father promised Jodha's hand in marriage to King Akbar in return for his promise to protect his kingdom of Amer if there were any battles with the opposing camps. For obviously other political reasons which the story unfolds, Akbar decides to take up the offer. How the marriage of convenience actually blossoms into love, given the religious and cultural differences between the two in the 16th century royalty forms the crux of the story.
When the story sticks to this basic premise, it works. Maybe in those bits and pieces primarily when the movie focusses on the blossoming romance between its protagonists - their attraction towards each other, their little squabbles, their dilemmas, etc. The rest of the film seems weighed down by a pressing need to live up to the proclaimed scale. In what seems to be one of the major troubles of the movie making lore of the day, big-budget films are hyped to be big in every scale even while they are being written. That Gowariker fell prey to the sales pitch and expectations, and chose to follow them rather than his own inner vision when the idea for this movie might have sprung in his head, is unfortunate. Hence the romance works, but the history, seems to be getting laboriously in the way. We have long drawn battle sequences, directing which does not seem to be Gowariker's forte. For evidently cheaper labor wage reasons in India as compared to using CGI wizardry to create the battle forces, I feel Gowariker must have chosen to use real-life people in the battle sequences. And that brings to the screen one of the few cringeworthy sequences in the movie. I'm sure thousands of extras are impossible to control, but the battle sequences are childish to an embarassing extreme. While they are well captured on the camera (thanks to excellent cinematography by Kiran Deohans), it is poorly executed. It seemed like a rerun of the centuries old Ramayana days from Doordarshan - ill-equipped soldiers listlessly moving their swords in thin air while also restraining themselves. Robotic movements where the swords are swung first left, then right, then left again, and pow! one of the battling duo pumps the sword into the other and you throw some tomato sauce on the slit soldier's torso.
And that brings me back to my main gripe with this movie - its devastating lack of budgeting with the financial resources and with the longevity of the movie. Mr. Gowariker needs to be taught the art of editing, and the art of learning how to cut the crap from your reels. If it takes 3 hours of reel time in a 3 hr 28 minute movie for your hero to woo the heroine and merely get to touch her, I guess I am smarter than Emperor Akbar. I definitely take less than 3 hours in real life.
I could go on about the length of the movie, but there are of course many masterful strokes too in this movie. That Ms Rai is not a great actress at any level, is something most of us are aware of. If directed well, she can do a reasonably good job (case in example - Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Provoked). In what seems to be telling tall tales of Gowariker's cinematic prowess, he has given very few dialogues to be mouthed to Aishwarya. He has left her beautiful eyes to do all the talking. And Ms Rai is beautifully restrained in the movie, which works wonders for the movie. Hrithik Roshan also looks valiant and macho in the role of Akbar. He simply has to smoulder and brood in many scenes in the movie, which he does a good job of. He seems to be getting better with each of his newer movies that I see. The movie also has a great supporting cast. Raza Murad (as Emperor Akbar's advisor Khan Baba) is brilliant, just his vocal inflections and the deep baritone of his voice sounds like magic. Ila Arun (as Emperor Akbar's foster mother) almost hams it up, but also manages to steal the scenes from Aishwarya when the two of them are face-to-face. However I was terribly dissatisfied with the 3-4 scenes in which Suhasini Mulay (as Jodha's mother) was present. A brilliant actress that she is, she seems totally wasted in this role and seems to have an ineffective smile plastered on her face throughout.
What brings this movie to an entirely upper level is A R Rahman's lilting music. The songs are not too many and rightly placed in the movie, and while I believe when heard in isolation the songs might not seem that great, in the context of the movie and the way it is picturised the songs are simply beautiful. The beautiful 'Khwaja mere Khwaja' and the melodic 'Kehne ko jashne - bahara hai' really take your breath away. And 'Khwaja mere Khwaja' is indeed lyrically picturised as well. When the Sufi-esque tunes of this song reach heights, Gowariker pulls off a magical scene in which Hrithik enchanted by the music gets up from his throne and begins to sway to the tune, going round and round, lending a heavenly touch to the scene.
And once more I would like to mention the brilliant cinematography by Kiran Deohans in the movie, especially the palace's beautiful interiors and the breathtaking desert scenes, so also the warfront. Costumes by Neeta Lulla and Nitin Desai's sets also deserve ample praise. Being the period epic that it is, never once did the sets draw attention away from the main course of the movie (unlike the pointless monstrosities erected in SLB's Black and Saawariya).
The more I think about it, the more I feel that there are quite a few good scenes and many other positives in this movie, and I hate it lesser and lesser as I write more. Maybe I was just tired through a hectic day's activities that this long movie simply did not work for me anymore. How I wish Ashutosh had focussed on the romance between Jodha and Akbar, and not fallen into the big-budget trappings. That would truly have been a great movie. Sigh!
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