Impressions 'n Expressions

Is there a greater tragedy than a promise that wasn’t given a chance?

2010-08-26T14:37:00.003Z

We all trek into the vicissitude of life awash in a kaleidoscope of promises and optimism. Even as the horizon we are hurtling or ambling toward seem to move ever so slowly away from our reach, we harbour in us a promise, a need, a desire that keeps us from giving up. There is always a reason that supports us when we are beat, a reason to make that moment last a little longer.

There is no telling how long the journey will last. A vast majority of us see the end of the road coming and prepare accordingly in own way for the inevitable. Some of us are pushed to that moment of certainty and walk into the vast void of unknown and master their own exit ...the foundation of their plunge built on broken promises, heartbreak, or an unwillingness to stretch that moment of certitude.

But a few of us are blindsided by the suddenness of the eternal black and leave in a blinding flash of ordinariness that is as abrupt as it is overwhelming. What we leave behind is inexorable sadness and a penetrating sense of loss. All that was bright and beautiful a moment ago vanishes into the magnificent void of nothingness and what remains are wisps and strands of memories of a life that was cut short.

Destiny or chance, whatever we believe in, doesn’t hold a candle to this searing unfairness of it all.

Is there a greater tragedy than a promise that wasn’t given a chance?

Will miss you. You were a beautiful person Sooraj.

Inception

2010-07-19T02:51:00.004Z

Its been a while since a movie created this sort of anticipation and it has everything to do with Christopher Nolan, who hasn't had a real misstep in his career since he announced his arrival into mainstream movies with the mindfuck of a movie, Memento. Since then there has been Insomnia, Batman Begins, The Prestige, and of course The Dark Knight. All of them have been highly accomplished features which fell into the right side of very good movies.

Inception, is another one of Nolan's winners that literally toys with us with its intricate plot structure that is structured like a heist movie while remaining at heart one man's journey to find his way back to the one thing that holds any meaning to his life.

But intricate structuring does not mean that Nolan makes it difficult for us to understand the almost straight forward narrative that is at once intellectually stimulating and yet does not condescend to the lowest common denominator among us - like most mainstream movies tend to do. Until the end everything is kept straight, though am sure the last scene will have its share of debates around it. Does this movie deserve the ambiguity at the end...I would assume so, cause it allows each one of us to carry with us our own interpretation to what actually happened.

The story line follows a group of dream stealers who invade the mind of a target to implant an idea deep into his subconscious. This involves travelling deep into a dream within a dream within a dream and effectively creates a situation wherein it becomes difficult to tell what is real and what is a dream. The plotting is an amazing exercise in playing with layer upon layer upon layer of complexities that are bound together by complex rules. After the exposition is done, the movie is one long sequence that hurtles towards the end as it intercuts between the different levels of dreams the protagonists are trapped in.

Inception features some amazing sequences, but the highlight for me was a gravity defying action setpiece set in a hotel lobby.

Hans Zimmer's music score complements the action on the screen providing the right amount of zest and suspense as the movie speeds towards the climax.

The acting for what its worth is quite good, especially Di Caprio and the always delectable Marion Cotillard. If there is a quibble, it is that the other characters are not suitably developed to provide us with any sense of emotional connect. This may be deliberate, because the central story of Inception is about Cobb's
(Di Caprio) journey at finding a way to atone for past sins and his relationship with Mal (Marion Cotillard). It was also nice to see Joseph-Gordon Levitt in an action role after his essaying of the timid Tom in the anti-romance, 500 Days of Summer.

Inception is another one of those accomplished sci-fi movies that can be grouped alongwith the likes of The Dark City and The Matrix. It also makes me wait to see what Christopher Nolan can come up with next.

Recommended.

...of Vuvuzelas and Africa

2010-07-12T19:55:00.002Z

...and that concludes another edition of the football World Cup. South Africa hosted a wonderful and memorable month of football, not pretty football most times, had its share of controversies, moments of ecstacy coupled with the cruel agony of defeats, beautiful goals and moments of magic...but that is just football, the World Cup is so much more than just football. The sheer drama, the extravagance, the flamboyance that surrounds the people's game brings so much life in these troubled and cynical times. It was nice to see the Africans unite together at least for a month and support the tournament, support each other and for a fleeting moment give rise to hope.

FIFA, despite all its issues, has done so much more to bring humanity together and build a sense of optimism. A sense of optimism to a world that is going thru tumultous times while getting increasingly fractured along racial, religious, and economic lines. I do not think any other sports organization can claim to have done as much or even aspired to. FIFA over the years has started shedding its pro-european bias and have become more inclusive. The emergence of Africa as a footballing power is the result of this inclusiveness.

Now you have thousands of Africans plying their skills in Europe. It is heartening to see the likes of Drogba and Essien not just content to make money and be a part of success stories that were built on individual skills and talent, but also get involved in trying to change the fabric of a land that was pillaged and raped for centuries, the scars of which are still left behind to erupt as communal and ethnic strife that plagues this great continent. The African footballer has become a symbol of hope for the thousands of children who have nothing better to look forward to in life. For a generation that lacks access to basic amenities like water, health services, education...football is a way out. I remember one of Essien's interviews for the Time magazine where he states that when he started playing football Ghana did not have one proper football stadium, but now Ghana is one of the powerhouses of African football...indeed world football. Sadly unlike footballers in any other part of the world, the African footballer besides trying to compete with the best in the world also carries an enormous burden...he is carrying ...hope.

I know, this is just wishful thinking on my part. How can something as trivial as a game of football even aspire to such greatness. But what do we need now more now...the naysayers like Pele or the English media - who prophesied that Africa will not be able to host an event of this magnitude - or a willingness to believe.

South Africa showed the world that, we can do it..all we need is to find out what we want as a part of the global community. Brothers and sisters from the African continent, with their vuvuzelas and enthusiasm managed to keep alive the spirit of carnival, the spirit of togetherness and showed us that if only we shed the cynicism, if only we looked beyond the shallowness of superficial differences, we can forge a world that can with all its difference be a wonderful place indeed.

Thank you South Africa.

Bring on Brazil.

Time and Identity

2010-04-15T17:26:00.001Z

Recently I had a chance to visit the Institute of Contemporary Arts at Boston. Two hours later, I felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that I am either way ahead of time or maybe way back, as I was absolutely wonderstruck by my ignorance of the contemporary art culture - at least in the Western world. That's supposed to be a joke, because I am quite clueless about art in general. At different points in my life I have come across beauty in a painting, a sculpture, or a mural and more, but I have never tried to learn more about what struck me about it and why? I guess, one can't actually define beauty...because, I believe, the state of mind plays a really important part in appreciating it, well at least, that's my argument. The concept of beauty is an idea that evolves and mutates.

The exhibits looked beautiful in a very abstract way and yet remained incomprehensible to my base sense of aesthetic sensibilities. I am sure everything on display had a reason for its existence, I am positive the two young women who were discussing From amongst the golden foil spread in a very deliberate fashion, the cuboid made of pins, cross-section of an ant farm, Emily Dickinson's lines as white solids...one section made some kind of impression on me, the lithographs titled 'Still Waters' and the solid glass sculptures by by Roni Horn.

Roni Horn uses photographs of the Thames in flow as a metaphor for the mutability of time. Using Heraclitus's postulation, 'you could not step twice into the same river, for other waters are ever flowing on to you,' Horn uses the dark swirling waters of the river to emphasize that time is transient. Each picture is annotated with references to incidents, movies, books, and more that frankly made no sense to me, but it did make me try to reach out and grasp the essence of these almost quotidian displays. Using the simply magnificent solid glass sculptures, Roni Horn evokes the changing nature of identities as a shift in light or how and where you are observing from causes the solid glass to appear liquid. The amorphous nature of identity is beautifully brought out using seemingly immutable inanimate objects, exemplifying that we are more complex than we can ever hope to understand and identity is a prisoner to perspective.

I don't know if it is what the artist intended, but for the next few hours all I could really think about was the influence of time in our lives. An abstract concept at best, time has become an integral part of how we run our daily lives. But do we really understand it, do we really even think of it as anything more or less, than as a point of reference to connect our existence with to the world around us.

The time is gone
The song is over
Thought I'd something more to say.

Sitting by the Charles River, watching the yachts trying to catch a good wind, watching life as she jogged and cycled and gathered along the path, capturing a moment here and letting go another there, I tried to see myself for who I really am. Who I am has been lost I guess, who I am is a judgement that you make, who I am is just another wisp of wind that you wish I could be, a reflection of your desire.

Another crazy take on time

I've always been fascinated by death. The feel of it, the smell of it, the quietness of it.

2010-04-09T16:39:00.002Z

Kissed

A tender and poignant love story of a necrophilic.

Sandra, a loner, works in a funeral parlor embalming corpses. What no one knows is that she connects with the cadavers she embalms in a deeply personal and spiritual way. Her obsession, 'glorious and overwhelming', involves treating the bodies that come to her with reverence and understanding, because she believes that though dead...they can feel. Sometimes the connect she feels with them also leads to engaging in sexual activities. Matt, who knows about her necrophilic tendency, loves her and tries to reach out to her without really understanding the reasons that drive her. Sandra's failure to communicate what her obsession really means to her results in a misunderstanding that leaves him frustrated and unable to convince her about his feelings until he realizes that there is only one way she will really understand what she means to him.

Movies dealing with extreme forms of fetish are not for everyone and this one more so, as necrophilia is as controversial as it is uncomfortable.

Without being exploitative or gratituous, the movie works as a conventional love story set against the backdrop of an unconventional fetish. For those who are not turned off by the nature of the subject, Lynne Stopkewich fashions a good watch.

"If a body catch a body comin' through the rye..."

2010-01-30T17:59:00.001Z

"Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be."

J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Bolt, running with the Gods

2009-08-17T09:11:00.001Z

On the 16th of August history was made...in 9.58 seconds.

Since the arrival of computerised timing, world records in 100 meters have never been beaten by more than a few hundredths of a seconds, but here we are talking about tenths...TENTHS.

Tyson Gay came in second at 9.71 and that time would have won him any of the previous World championships. Five men running under 9.93 in the same race should qualify this to be the greatest 100 meters dash of all time.

Beijing 2008 saw Usain Bolt cruise thru in 9.69 seconds and that after easing up in the last 15 meters. That should have told us that this boy will one day maybe do a sub 9.6 seconds someday...someday. But barely two years after Asafa Powell set the world record of 9.74 at the IAAF Grand Prix in Rieti, Italy, Usain Bolt has gone on and taken off almost two tenths of that time.

I guess, barring a major screw up, no one ever thought beyond Usain Bolt to win the 100 meters World Championship. Gay wanted to prove to the world that he belongs and Asafa Powell, who has lately being in the shadows of his more illustrious teammate, wanted to show the world that he has what it takes to become a world champion once again. But with absolutely no disrespect to either of these two men or anyone else who was running along with him, Usain Bolt was running his own race on this warm night in August.

9.58 seconds. This is an incredible enough record that will stand for a long long time...unless he decides to take it down even further, and one would be foolish to bet against that happening.

Now when he says that he will run the 200 meters in under 19 seconds...does it sound like a vain and cocky statement or as a statement of intent coming from a core belief in his ability.

Usain Bolt the greatest short sprinter in the modern era.

...it ends here

2009-08-14T17:58:00.003Z

The rivers runs wild. The river runs true.

The river dried up.

Too soon.

Another post on River.

Numbness

2009-08-14T17:55:00.000Z

How would you charecterize the drugged numbness of apolitical existence...Isn't living more than just existing?

The question is not when you stopped living...the question is why?

Wouldn't you would rather fight and be burned on a stake?

At least you had a reason.

One small step...

2009-07-16T08:31:00.001Z

How sad are we...to celebrate the the right to consensual sex.

But celebrate it...we must.

1958 - 2009

2009-06-26T04:49:00.003Z

Its an incredibly sad day.

Thank you for the music, Micheal Jackson.

Born to amuse, to inspire, to delight...here one day, gone one night.
Like a comet, blazing 'cross the evening sky...Gone too soon.

Baraka

2009-05-18T11:04:00.004Z

Baraka. Am amazing glimpse into life.

Without dialogues, without a story and without a conventional plot, Ron Fricke's movie manages to evoke something so innate and basic in us thru a powerful synthesis of music from across the world and stark yet vivid imagery, capturing the grandeur and simplicity of everyday life...where even the most prosaic appears surreal.

Magnificent landscapes merge seamlessly with scenes of everyday living, drawing you in as you succumb to the call of a powerful emotion that transcends time...transcends language.

Blew me away.

Fast food...

2009-04-05T17:36:00.002Z

"That bastard then asked me to get out."

"He is always like that. Chutiya fellow needs to get his head examined. I hate chem 'coz of him. Fuck."

"Abbey yaar, this taste yummm..."

Overheard at a food joint. The speakers were two school-going kids, who didn't even seem to be in their teens.

Darwin's Legacy lectures.

2009-02-26T12:26:00.003Z

Charles Robert Darwin (12 February 1809 – 19 April 1882).

On the occasion of the bicentennial year of his birth and the 150th anniversary of the publication of his book, On the Origin of Species by Natural Selection or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life, here are a series of introductory lectures conducted for the Stanford University Continuing Studies course on Darwin's Legacy.

Darwin's Legacy, Lectures 1 thru 10

Literary orgasm

2009-02-10T11:19:00.003Z

You ever wondered where you will be able to read the definitive version on Landolt-Bornstein and its co-relation to Silicon-29...worry not, my dear friends, here is where you can pick up your copy. Finally the hardcover version of 'Chemical Shifts and Coupling Constants for Silicon-29 (Landolt-Bornstein: Numerical Data and Functional Relationships in Science and Technology - New Series) is now available at Amazon.

Do read the customer review sections...provides you with more incentive to hurry.

Being happy, being peaceful

2009-01-23T18:59:00.002Z

Someone asked me the other day, 'What is more important in life...being happy or being peaceful?'

I wonder.

No excuses...

2009-01-23T18:38:00.000Z

"There are no excuses. I could blame it on a lack of match practice time, or on playing the world number 10. I had a sore stomach as well."
Sania Mirza on her second-round exit at the hands of Russian 10th seed Nadia Petrova.

She is funny...give her that.

Teri Samundar Ankhon Mein

2008-12-10T06:41:00.001Z

If this isn't soul stirringly beautiful...

Yah dhup kinara shaam dhalen,
Milte hain dono waqt jahan,
Jo raat na din, jo aaj na kal,
pal bhar ko amar, pal bhar mein dhuaan
Is dhup kinaare pal do pal.
Hothon ki lapak
Baahon ki khanak
Yah mel hamaara jhooth na sach
Kyon raar karen, kyon dosh dharen
kis kaaran jhoothi baat karen
Jab teri samandar aankhon mein
Is shaam ka suraj dubega
Sukh soyenge ghar dar waale
Aur rahi apni rah lega.

Faiz

Do you think England will go ahead with the Test match in Mumbai?

2008-11-29T15:51:00.002Z

"What did they tell you?" screamed the woman.
"they told us to stay inside and lock the door and not make too much noise".
"What did you hear?" she of the screaming voice, still screaming.
"My neighbour told me he heard gunshots".
"What did they tell you exactly?"...scream was turning into a shriek.
"You see, in the interview I gave to your Hindi channel, NDTV Hindi, I had mentioned..."

This is 'live' reporting during the standoff between the perpetrators of yet another attack in the country. The screaming voice was some bitch on NDTV talking to someone holed up in the interiors of the Taj...while the other voice is someone who is giving interviews even while he is hiding in one of the rooms. This is the Indian news media during what is one of the worst attacks of terrorism on the State.

Enough has been said and written about what is happening now and yes it is sad. But what do we take out of this?

It is not as if terrorism is new to India. The ATS chief, who was among the tragically killed, had in fact met various security agencies in the past couple of months to ensure that security was beefed up in all offices and establishments across Mumbai, but beyond the cursory checking of baggages at the entrance...was there any seriousness involved. Even major hotels like The Taj, The Trident or the ITC group of hotels, which are the the places foreign delegates and dignitaries usually stay was sadly lacking in even basic security measures. The major railway stations in most cities are soft targets even now.

It took more than nine hours for the NSG to be deployed when for all intents and purposes it is said they can be ready in a few minutes. The army was on the scene within a few hours, but there definitely seems to have been a lack of authority. Not withstanding the number of attacks in the country this year, there has been a marked lack of policies, and protocols defined or factored to handle emergencies like these. Rather than proactively assuage security consideration across major cities we are, as usual, reacting to the emergency situation.

As usual, with the media in the forefront, we are going to start the blame game over who started it and who trained these misguided group. As usual, we are going to start talking about Pakistan's involvement. As usual, we are going to go to town about how politicians are goin to use this incident to further their own interests. As usual, the spirit of Mumbaikars, or any other city unlucky to be targeted, is going to be bandied about. As usual, the media is going to shove the mikes on the faces of armchair critics and non-entities like bollywood celebs, the Shoba Des and the Alyque Padamsees and allow them to voice their incredulous anger about how the country is being fucked up by politicians. As usual, we will have to listen to the santimonious screamings from the Barkha Dutts and the Arnab Goswamis who spltter words from their mouths that barely hides their glee in the rise of the TRP ratings...you should hear Arnab Goswami utter a million times, "...another hostage has been killed. You heard it first on your news channel...Times Now." FUCK.

I agree, the politicians cannot be absolved of the crime in not being prepared. There has been knee-jerk reactions to incidents like these and yet nothing concrete is being done to have a plan to deal with it. We can't stop terrorism. It will be there as long as there is socio-economical or socio-political divide existing in this world...what we can do is to try and be prepared, so that the next time something like this happens...there will be a semblence of sanity in how it is being managed.

"Do you think England will go ahead with the Test match in Mumbai?"
This one was a gem from CNN-IBN a few hours into the attack.

Where was a stray bullet when we really need one?

Bailouts in a free-market economy

2008-11-26T15:31:00.002Z

It’s ironical...suddenly the proponents of free market and capitalism want State intervention and support. Till yesterday they were shouting hoarse about governmental regulations hampering growth and development and today we have them lined up asking for bailouts.

When you see Banks and Investment firms across the world falling like proverbial nine pins…the solidity of the nationalized Banks in India bears a testimony to the banking regulations in our country. Of course cash flow has been affected by the global recession, but the Reserve bank of India who prescribes guidelines for banking operations within which the country's banking and financial system functions has ensured that the fundamentals of our banking norms as established in its objectives are strong enough to weather the global economic gloom. The Reserve Bank of India who formulates, implements and monitors the country’s Monetary Policy ensures that liquidity is maintained in the economy and banks in the country do not have to go the Citigroup way.

One of the primary reasons why banking systems across the globe failed was…greed. ‘Greed is good’, a buzz phrase in Oliver Stone’s Wall Street, was seized upon as the mantra upon which the Investment Banks were operating and their haste to make a quick buck from an economy that was already showing signs of having reached boiling point short circuited global economy. The effect of their rash decisions did not rest within the financial sector but percolated down to other sectors…primarily the auto and textile industry and sent the world spiraling into recession.

One of the sector that was crying out the loudest in India for deregulation was the airline industry and they are the one’s who are screaming for handouts to sustain themselves. But wasn’t one of the primary principle of free-market capitalism competition and profit maximization, where creating a sustainable entrepreneurial enterprise is determined solely by the operation of a market economy that is beyond the ambit of a central economic planning. The King of Good Times is certainly not flying high right now…

Farewell dada...

2008-11-12T11:02:00.003Z

Indian cricket will not be the same again. It may go on to become the best cricket playing nation in the world and shatter all the records there is...but history will remember that it was Saurav Ganguly's young Indian team that paved the way and started the journey. It was the confidence of one man and the belief he instilled in his team members that resulted in transforming Indian cricket forever.

Farewell dada...and thank you for the music.

Trust and faith

2008-11-11T10:51:00.000Z

Recently I was forced into a situation - of my own making, I should say - to seek an understanding into the concept of truth, trust and the real world.

What is truth?

What is trust?

A dictionary might define truth as a conformity with some fact or reality. But what if reality itself is a perception that cannot be defined in anything but an abstract sense? Does truth still hold a valid and objective definition? Truth is supposed to be enlightening, but how then does it stand to reason when truth blurs the distinction between fact and reality. There are people who believe everything real to be a fact and vice versa...but how true is this assumption?

I have always believed that truth can only be subjective. Kurosawa's Rashomon, one of the pinnacles of cinema making tried to explore the objectivity of truth. Without trying to really find an answer, Kurosawa managed to show us that truth cannot be objective. The very loose nature of truth depends on the context to which it is attached.

I guess its just me and the way I look at life that precludes me from finding any real meaning to truth. This is also maybe because somewhere deep inside, the cynic in me has ruled out anything substantive to the meaning of truth. Today, truth is another word, to be used to further our needs...our pursuits. Truth is one more weapon in our arsenal to be used any which way we want. It can be bent, twisted, shortened, lengthened and altered to be the key that unlocks the door that stands in our way.

Perhaps, long ago when it was coined...it meant something, but now, the necessity of surviving in a world that is increasingly becoming a metaphor for the Darwinian principle that espouses 'survival of the fittest', truth has come to represent our crutch.

Truth has lost its meaning - if ever there was one. Today its easier to say I have faith in God than I trust you.

Yesterday truth was one of our guiding beacons. Today it's trust. Tomorrow it will be faith.

How long will it be before faith itself gets corrupted.

Rise and fall...

2008-10-06T11:56:00.002Z

The Sensex fell by over 700 points today.

Black Monday, they are calling it.

Why do I find a vicarious sense of pleasure in seeing the Sensex crash?

Of course, quite a few people stand to lose big time, but they were hardly complaining when it went thru the roof, were they? Also, all those who invested in the equity market did so out of their own volition to make a quick buck. They should have known with every rise...there is a fall. In usual circumstances, the flicking of a coin has two outcomes. Going after fast and easy money is generally accompanied by a higher risk...ask Lehman Brothers who were left holding mortgage securities that was worth even less than the toilet papers in their swanky offices.

At least, the rise and fall of the stock indices gives you some entertainment in the form of analysis from all the leading news channels. Some of the reasons these 'experts' give out are hilarious. Till now, they had the Left to blame each time there was a slight flutter...wonder what they will come up with today?

Probably Prakash Karat farted...

Youth, Stock Market and the Star Spangled Banner

2008-07-30T14:27:00.002Z

What is with our fucking obsession with youth?

Everywhere you hear that the 'youth' is the future, the ones who will alleviate all the ills of our country, the ones who have all the answers, the ones who will lead the way and take it upon themselves to transform potential to realization and we shall awake one day to the new India.

Unfortunately, little do the purveyors of the 'India Shining' campaign realize that thrusting the mantle of responsibility is one thing, but acknowledging it and understanding it is another.

'With great powers come great responsibility', went a sappy piece of line from a movie, but it emphasizes the difference between having the power and knowing what to do with it.

The future, an ephemeral concept at best, will come sooner than you think and in the blink of an eye the youth of today, spent and exhausted and past their youthfulness, will be struggling to comprehend the mistakes and missteps of the yesterdays spent in worshipping at the altar of self aggrandizements, without having once wondered about the mantle they had been entrusted by the all knowing pundits of today’s world...our national news channels, who act as the moral conscious of the nation. It is another thing that they themselves have denigrated the very ideals of journalism and pillage and scavenge on anything that remotely smacks of luridness catering to the baser instincts of the lowest common denominator.

Today's youth - and I am not painting everyone with the same brush, cause there are some who do see - are self centered, selfish and too deeply enmeshed in their own little world and don't really care about what is happening around them. Of course, they sprout homilies and sit around feeding their faces while shaking their heads and making grave statements about why they think the country is going to the dogs and why we are corrupt and why we will never change and then call for the next fucking round of drinks.

Fucking youth.

Then there are these self deluded morons who measure the quality index of life in general on the whims of the stock markets...they are also known as market analysts. The day after the Left parties had pulled out their support to the Government, the stock market rose and there was this bitch on one of the channels screaming out that the nation had responded to the roadblock that was the Left parties who were holding back Mr. Manmohan Singh from carrying out reforms and why now India can charge forward and take its place among the global economic superpowers. The next day the stock market fell and then selfsame bitch was on about how the markets are responding to global cues and oil price. I mean from under which rock these idiots crawl out. What do they use that lump of mass in their skulls for? Anyone with an iota of brains in them knows that the stock market is just another casino, a legalized gambling den. How much difference did it make in absolute sense when the BSE index was at around 21000? How many more of the over 60% of us who earn below Rs. 20 a day get to eat a full meal, drink water that was potable? How many more children got an opportunity to attend school? Fuck it...what exactly changed in our country. Oh yes, the number of millionaires doubled in one year, we have more dollar millionaires in the world now. The rise and fall of the stock markets do not change anything here...they do not. They make the rich...richer. The poor stay isolated from all this.

Oh well, Mr. MMS and Sonia ji were mentioning that the nuclear deal with the US is the panacea that we were waiting for...so let us all stand up and sing, the Star Spangled Banner.

Where’s the fucking perspective.

Choices...

2008-07-29T09:22:00.004Z

Choices hold the bewitching thought about staying with you for life. Everyday, you are forced to make choices and some of them, however trivial, however natural may end up defining the course of your life. When you look at the extent a choice can make to create the person you are now, you realize that sometimes...sometimes, you need to take a stand, you need to draw and define your own course...your own road to discovery.

Life's highway is a long lonely affair.

Sooner or later the journey ends...a journey mostly undertaken in the deeper complexities of the mind.

Weary and tired and deeply scarred, having traversed through the vagaries and vicissitudes of a life neither predestined nor built on a foundation of architectural efficacy and your body just a capsule of experiences, you look back on those innumerable victories and countless defeats, the laughter and the pain, the walk in the rains and the hot summer days, the moments of tranquil peace, the schizophrenic paradoxes and existential angst, the doubts and the realizations, shimmering passions and endogenic vacuousness, the first kiss, colours of joy, falling in love, bleakness of winters and the romance of the monsoons, friends, holding hands, letting go, emotional turbulences, endorphin rush, the valley of flowers and the forest of dreams, flirting with solitude and many more.

All along, the choice was yours...you had it in you to choose. To take the path that ultimately lead you to where you are now. You had the choice to look up at the stars above to guide you, to accompany you or to take the rap for the mistakes made.

And now, you ask...did you make the choices when you had the chance?

Did you choose the easy way out by trailing along the slipstream of choices made for you or did you really make that choice...not out of necessity, but because of the joy to be found in stumbling through the thicket of self doubt and discovery. Chances are that in the mistakes and the missteps made because of the choices you made lay so many of those very answers you were looking for. Treading the beaten path may have found you the answers...but did you ask the right questions?

"It is better to know some of the questions than all of the answers", wrote James Thurber

The song

2008-07-16T19:40:00.002Z

Played the song after a long time...a very long time.

Memories fraught with betrayal flashed deep within. Its strange how something so banal and trivial as a song can act as a catalyst to revive things you didn't want to remember and soon you are caught in it's vice like grip...memories of another day, another time.

Fuck.

'Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind'.

Would you really try and erase memories that can hurt you?

Why hurt?

But you can't, can you?

You need them, you want them, if only to remember...yesterday.

You play the song again. Loop it.

Memories you thought can only hurt, have a way of acting as a cathartic agent and soon thru the mist of pain and hurt you see what once was the pursuit of happiness...delivered.

It was a time of magic. Each day was was a day of possibilities and life was not just an amalgam of hedonistic pursuits alone, you were trying to reach higher and seek the altar of altruism.

Then you thought, life can never get better.

Prescient.

There it plays again.

The song, its haunting lyrics and melliflous rendition is powerful enough to make you want to seek forgiveness. But you have travelled a long way on the road you took and sometimes its better to live with the choices you made.

Someday, if paths converge, you can probably look him in the eye...again. Until then, you will occasionally listen to the song and remember.

Remember...yes.

Failing memory

2008-06-26T10:52:00.000Z

Last night I went to this shady place for dinner. I remembered having had dinner there a couple of years ago and I also remembered it to have been quite good.

I realize, I don't remember too well.

As Agent 86 would have said, 'That was a sucker punch to my gonads'.

The Rooster Coop trap

2008-06-25T04:38:00.005Z

India Shining was the campaign slogan for a new generation of Indians, for whom the surging stock indices, burgeoning malls, swanky office buildings, IT and mobile phones were tangible affirmation of the coming of age of a country that was mired, till yesterday, in everything retrograde...corruption, a failing health development index, poverty, inadequate health facilities, lack of potable drinking water and an apathy in looking for a solution. The biggest mechanism that brought an end to the sordidness that was old India was the medium of television and the 'national news channels'. IT revolution had made India an economic superpower and mobile phones redefined communication. India started producing millionaires and we had our own silicon city. Every mall that was built added one more brick to the success story. Urban India never had it so good and the news channels and their news stories complemented and celebrated new India. We were ready to take on the world. Health development index as a measure to gauge social and economic well being was given a short shrift, while the concerns of the industry houses and the IT czars were given paramount importance by a government who existed solely for the gratification of itself and be complicit in its pandering of big business. What can you say when the upswings and downswings of the stock market is used as a mirror to reflect the economic well being of a population of over a billion people, half of who do not have access to clean drinking water...forget health care, education and equal opportunity.

The White Tiger, Arvind Adiga's debut novel, is a story of the new India, albeit told using a protagonist who comes in from the 'Darkness'. This is the India you don't find mentioned around you. Here the villages don't resemble the virgin, verdant beauty of a Yash Raj blockbuster. This is the India that you see around you everyday, but choose to be blind about. This is the story of India you see at traffic signals in most metros, this is the India you recoil from as you watch from inside your air-conditioned cars.

The eponymous protagonist, Balram Halwai, is a driver with a rich guy in Delhi, one among the millions on whom the light hasn't shone yet. While tremulously he has learnt to accept his servility, Balram also realizes what goes on around him and though resentment is creeping in slowly he fails to act on it, caught as he is in his 'Rooster Coop' mentality. The servitude of the community bound within the 'Rooster Coop' is such that even if the 'key of his emancipation is given to him, he will throw it right back at you'. Gradually he picks up on all the traits by which servants can get back at their masters and that include inflated car maintenance bills, pilfering of petrol, lying and plotting his way up the servant chain. All this while his mind is festering with the germ of an idea to break free from such a non-existent existence. He wonders about being like his master, being able to walk into that swanky mall without being stopped. But to get out of the 'Rooster Coop'...to be the white tiger, that which comes once in a lifetime, he has to break free and that will mean rising above his servile existence, and if it means having to commit a cold blooded murder, if it means that his whole family will be killed, he has no other choices and no regrets either. It is not easy for someone who was born in the 'Darkness' with no hope, to become a part of the economic prosperity that is the new India. It will involve sacrifices.

The story narrated in the form of letters to the Chinese Premier who is about to make a visit to India, is not novel or new. We have read a lot about all the wheelings and dealings that go about in the pursuit of success. But Adiga brings to this a topicality that has been ignored by the powers that are work. His India is populated by people who come from the villages that we don't see on the NDTVs and the CNN-IBNs, his India is populated by corrupt politicians and bribe giving masters who have come to expect their superiority over others as a matter of fact. His India is not the one we see in those glossy posters given out by the tourism department. This is an India where everybody can be bought and elections are rigged and the Government exists only for the upper middle class.

Adiga's writing is quite easy and direct to the point of being too explanatory. His writing is fairly simple and quite literal in its transcription of the ideas and anger that went into the making of this epistolery piece of work. But unlike the writing, there is a lot of profundity to the the questions that arise out of this story of another successful entrepreneur. Though I found it to be digressing in parts, the core remained an angry look at the dichotomy that is our country today. This is almost a satire, except that I didn't find it to be an exaggeration and neither was it too distanced from reality. Some may complain that by highlighting the plight of the so called 'under privileged' or the 'dis-enfranchised', Adiga has missed the point about the success of the IT generation and the privileges it has accorded to the rising middle class, but at the same time one can argue that, for too long have we been wearing pink glasses and for far too long we have deluded ourselves about India having arrived...we haven't arrived when the divide between the have and the have-nots are increasing, when the gains of one section of the society does not percolate down to those who require assistance, we haven't arrived until the Balram Halwai's of our land do not need to resort to extreme measures to be a part of the India Shining campaign.

Breaking News...

2008-06-02T12:16:00.003Z

Young british tourist raped and murdered in Goa.

German woman tourist molested by cab driver in Jaipur.

Old couple murdered in their Noida home. Servant suspected.

Police arrest parents for murder of little girl.

All this when the nation is going thru a crisis of grave importance...rising oil prices. While the major oil companies are losing about Rs.600 crores daily on subsidies and Mr. Manmohan Singh has come out and told that the Government won't be able to save the consumer, the main headlines in our national news channels are about Amitabh Bachchan's new found obsession with blogging. The shrillness of news reporting is in stark contrast to the vacuousness of the content. Media's voyeristic frenzy in reporting isolated issues as national calamities coupled with playing an activist role with a crusaders zeal in protecting the rights of the urban upper middle class is disconcerting at even the surface level, but dangerous when you look deeper and consider the apathy we show towards actual issues that the country faces.

While contemplating pneumatic mode of transport that doesn't require fuel, I am forced to listen to the latest breaking news,

An American woman student found in a drugged state in Chennai...undergarments missing.
Question for the day, Does the missing undergarment expose vital clues? Please send in your sms's to...

Long ago you had magazines like Crime, Murder Weekly and it's clones...now you have NDTV, CNN-IBN, Headlines Today, Times Now and more.

Where is the green plant when I need it...

Mindfuck.

Destiny and Chance - The Three Colours, Red...not a review

2008-05-28T12:37:00.005Z

Watching Krzysztof Kieslowski’s the Three Colours trilogy back to back was one of my most satisfying experiences in recent times. Just finished watching the final part, Red, which I believe is the strongest of the trilogy.

How many times have we wondered about destiny and chance, predetermination and randomness and if we really are just playing our parts in a grand script or making it up as we go along.

Trapped in a loveless relationship, Valentina is a model leading a placid life until one day she runs over and injures a dog. The owner of the dog, a retired Judge, tells her to keep the dog if she wants and appears taciturn, blunt and dour. On the day she comes to return the excess money paid by the Judge to treat the dog's injury, she finds out that the Judge spends his time eavesdropping on his neighbour’s phone calls. Though initially repulsed by him, Valentina gradually takes to the Judge and soon they start spending time together and develop a strong platonic bond.

Told in parallel is the story of Auguste, a Law student, and Karin who are apparently in love with each other. Though Auguste is Valentina's neighbour and their paths cross on a number of occasions, they hardly acknowledge each other's presence and are barely aware about the other’s existence, but events transpire that raises questions about chance and destiny.

In one of their last meetings the Judge tells Valentina about his past and how he did love once. He speaks of how he was betrayed and how he humiliated he felt. He never loved again and he tells Valentina, '...I never met another person I could love. You are probably the woman I never met'. He tells about how his anger translated into him giving the wrong judgement to the person his lover went away with and unable to come to terms with it, sought early retirement.

Auguste, who is a Judge now, realizes that Karin is having an affair with another person and he is devastated. It becomes clear that Auguste's life mirrors the Judge's life thirty years ago...and forces are at work...why?

I liked the end where the characters from Blue and White are shown for a brief moment...it certainly brings a closure to what Kieslowski attempted with his trilogy on the three ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity (my mind goes back to my history textbook in tenth standard...where I think we had to learn about the French revolution and about Rousseau, Voltaire and Garibaldi).

This is one of the most 'visual' movies I have watched in a long time. While in Blue, it was music that grabbed hold of you in its soothing embrace, what really blew me over in this was the dark and rich look of the movie with frames saturated in red, there is always something that is 'rouge' in almost each and every frame.

Irene Jacob as Valentina, looking vulnerable and delectable, is just perfect...she is beautiful in a very cute sort of way. But I thought the standout performance was by the guy (I am ashamed to say I didn't get his name) who played the Judge. To play a cold, distant and aloof person but yet bring out a sense of warmth or niceness, if you will, without resorting to histrionics or grandness is quite...quite amazing. Beneath that subtlety there is a hint at something more...as if he is not quite the person he is.

I don't know if it was just me, but I need to watch this one couple of times more...'cause am sure I missed a lot. This is the kind of movie that demands several viewing before you can even try and understand it completely. If you look at it, a lot is thrown around to stimulate you....to make you think. Is Auguste, the Judge himself, albeit in another parallel plane...is the Judge really who he claims to be, because he seems to be moving the pieces. It looks like it is his quest to make sure that Valentina and Auguste meet up and probably complete the story of his (the Judge's) unfinished story. Remember he tells Valentina that she might the person he never met and I have a feeling he is making sure that she ends up with Auguste. Here also there is no evidence of the relationship been anything but platonic and there is not underlying strand of it being anything more than that. Just before they spilt up before Valentina is going on her vacation, he asks to see the ticket...why? Also, it was he who suggested her to take the ferry and not the flight...did he know what was going to happen...did he orchestrate it...if so, is he...? The ending itself can open up a debate on how they all got there in the first place...and what is the significance of only seven people surviving in the boat tragedy and who is the seventh person. Coincidentally the dog that was injured in the beginning of the movie also gives birth to seven puppies...is there a connection, I wonder?

There are more coincidences (?) strewn about in the movie and am sure I will catch some more of them the next time I watch the movie...it may add up to more questions, but what the hell...rarely does anything stimulate you these days and I need my fix.

Red, the third colour on the French flag signifies fraternity.

I am now looking for 'Decalogue' and the 'Double life of Veronique.'

A Krzysztof Kieslowski Retrospective

2008-05-23T10:34:00.004Z

A short film about love

What is true love...unconditional love? A feeling of emotion so intense that it can make the physical act of love...irrelevant.

This Polish movie explores this in a searingly haunting tale of a boy's obsession with a beautiful older woman, whom he watches thru a telescope. Starting of as a sexual gratification exercise, this voyeristic rendezvous turns to more than just lust and questions the very definition of love and what it means. We have seen love explored in detail in a million movies before, but rarely has its potency been this beautifully studied.

Three colours - Blue

A haunting medition on grief, lonliness and ultimately liberty. This french movie features an amazing performance by Juliette Binoche as a woman who suddenly loses her husband and her child in an accident and is trying to learn to live with the void that her life has become and the struggle she undergoes emotionally to find peace and freedom from the hurt, pain...vacuousness.

As the title suggests there is a tinge of blue that is predominant in the way the movie is shot. Blue stands for liberty and the director here is trying to portray the feeling of 'individual liberty'.

If i don't write about the music, it would be a terrible injustice. Melding into the visuals, the score is evocatively intense and intoxicating. There is a sense of caress as it fills up your conciousness.

[As an aside, there is a shot of Juliette Binoche at a cafe having coffee and I couldn't help noticing her beautiful fingers...there was a strange sensuousness in her softly delicate fingers, but this is just me and it helped in emphasising how beautiful she actually is]

Three colours - White

Though it doesn't have the same impact as the 'Three colours - Blue', White is quite good. In a strange way, at its heart this is a love story and tells about the tale of a man who is trying to plot revenge against the woman he has loved, blaming her for everything that has gone wrong between them. He is a sympathetic character and his journey to find resolution for the way life has panned out for him is quite captivating.

This is not as haunting as the previous movie, neither is it as gloomy or depressing and there is touch of lightness to the proceedings, this maybe one of the reason why I found it slightly less compelling watch.

Now I wait to see the the third part of the trilogy, Three colours - Red, next week.

Heat

2008-04-29T09:25:00.007Z

Far above, darkness is speckled with innumerable glints of shimmering embers burning itself away far beyond the realm of thought and imagination, while closer, much closer, the stillness of nightlife echoes the silences of an age gone by.

The only sound that attempts to drown out the emptiness that has made itself comfortable around you is the steady hum of an antiquated fan that tries to battle the overpowering sense of claustrophobic heat. Languidness weaves a cloak around you as the dry summer heat slowly but steadily imprints itself into your conciousness.

You need water.

Pervasive heat dissipates thoughts into random lethargic inactions and every moment is stretched to last that much longer.

Inaction spawns lonliness.

Lonliness mates with lethargy. Out of this perfect union is born a sense of vacuousness that penetrates the very core of your being, churning away at your inner self and transmutating you into a hollow shell of vacuity. You know you seek, but can't fathom why.

You need water.

When did it all ebb away, you wonder. You try hard to locate that point in time where the slide began, but the line between what could've been and what is has blurred and all that is left is a wasteland of opportunities.

Memory defines impotency.

In the collage of all things remembered, you glimpse flashes of promise and potential that mixed uneasily with hedonistic mundaneness that gradually pervaded everything that you are...have become. The frivolity of everyday existence erased existential wonder and distinction between the dark and the light got coloured, creating a twilight grey.

Life doesn't come with perfumed erasers, but there is a whole set of colouring pencils at your disposal and tomorrow you will start on your canvas. You realise that you have been thinking about this since...since yesterday...yesterday when you still had a reason, a reason that was not rooted in the mechanics of staying alive or just existing, but an yesterday when dreams were young and your's was to reason why.

But, you are running with the Gods and no one said it was going to be easy.

You look up at the stars.

Someday.

The River

2008-03-31T17:15:00.001Z

Innumerable stars wrote their own story in the skies above, stories that had been foretold since time immemorial. Moonlight shimmered on the gentle ripples, breaking into a countless number of diamonds that faded with the twinkling of an eye. The swaying of the palm trees in a dense foliage of dark shadows against the backdrop of a purple sky, far across the vast expanse of the dark and mysterious waters of the great river sang a song, a song that you have never heard, a song of longing and pain...captivating the beauty of a place where time had no meaning and eternity was forever.

I saw her as a silhouette, in perfect synthesis with nature. As I approached her moonlight appeared to be bathing her in silver and I realized that she was like no other I have ever seen...at once human and ethereal, this was divinity...an idea of perfection. Almost inaudible, yet distinct, I heard her lilting and mellifluous singing, her voice resonating with the song of nature. The closer I approached, the more I began to see of her...and each step I took, slowed down the beatings of my heart. If this was death, I wanted to die faster. Her perfect feet were being gently caressed by the waters as she slowly made her way along the shores of the river. Arms swinging in careless grace, she moved deeper into the water, allowing the glistening waters to roll against her knees. The river seemed to be telling her stories from the mysterious past...stories about the many civilizations she has seen rise and fall, stories about kings and peasants, stories about love and lovers...of people who had used her depths to take them into eternity. Lulled by the almost complete silence and perfect solitude, she waded into the inviting coldness...allowing the water to touch her, feel her and make her one with it. She dived under effortlessly and came out, her body arched backwards and for a moment before she fell back again, the moonlight caught her nakedness...an epitome of feminine pulchritude. Long hands that arched backwards, perfectly accentuated taut and firm breasts above a tapered torso that extended further to the most beautiful pair of legs I have ever seen. Even before I had seen god and nature coming together, she was back again in the water. There was an eerie sense of sensuousness about the way she allowed the water to glide over her body...the river was seducing her and she was allowing herself to be seduced, as if answering a call of primal desire. In the languidness of her supple movements, there was a sense of urgency that beat in just the right rhythm. Both of them seemed to understand each other and in the knowing they were as one single whole.

It seemed a lifetime before she came out of the water. She walked right up to where I was standing and gave me a gentle kiss. Her lips brushing against my lips like an unknown secret. I stood transfixed and my senses crumbled into a mass of absolute nothingness and thru it…I saw her. I couldn’t begin to describe her even if had wanted to, because words were incapable and could not do justice to her beauty. She came up to me and smiled and gently taking my hand, she made me sit down besides her facing the river and its magnificent and haunting loneliness. Elfin and magical, she was obviously just an idea of perfection...her hands were the softest I ever felt. My mind swirled with everything I wanted to say, but no words came out, but I guess she understood and just smiled. I didn’t know when she started talking, but suddenly I realized she was talking…talking in a voice that melted even as she spoke. She spoke to me about beauty and passion, freedom and flight, passion, desire and dreams…she talked to me about love. Hypnotized, my eyes never left her and I listened as her words fell like silent raindrops. Even as she started talking, she came forward and hugged her knees, using her hands to cup her feet. I noticed her feet looked incredibly sensuous. I don’t know when she stopped talking, all I know was that sitting beside her and looking at the huge, dark, foreboding river that had diamonds sprinkled all over...I realized that sometimes beauty is all there is and nothing else matters.

The next day as the sun was setting over the horizon, I saw you on the banks of the river...you were sitting there looking at the river, lost in thought. Your lips were mouthing the tune of a song that was vaguely very familiar. I tried hard to recollect it, but couldn’t place it. I thought I will ask you when you snap out of your reverie. From the vendor who plied his trade on the banks of this mighty river, I picked up two cups of strong black coffee and sat down beside you. That’s when you noticed me. You didn’t seem surprised to see me at all. You took the coffee from my hand and took a sip and nodded in appreciation,

"This is beautiful."
"The place or the coffee?"

The last few weeks...

2008-03-27T16:32:00.003Z

Saw a few movies over the past couple of weeks and thought I will write out a few lines about them, as it is, this space was screaming out its emptiness and I couldn't find it in myself to muster up energy to rant ;)

Will go back in chronological order...

Race
A totally mindless and stupid movie that falls under the category of 'paisa vasool' for the lobotomized junta...and I was one of them while watching it.

Micheal Clayton
Quite gripping while it lasted, well acted, and one of the better movies I have seen recently. Though it was taut, compelling and involved more than open eyes and ears, there was a sense of familiarity while it unspooled.

27 Dresses
Predictable...yes, cliched...yes, entertaining...yes. A by the book standard issue rom-com that has everything this genre of movie is made up of and gets most things right. Strong support is provided by the lead pair of the luminuos Katherine Heigl and James Marsden.

Vantage Point
An assasination attempt on the President of the US told using the vantage points of multiple characters each of whom see the same event. A commercial potboiler that had its moments and did try to do something different.

Jodha Akbar
A bum numbing torturous experience. The ONLY redeeming part of the movie was A R Rahman's surreal 'khwaja mere khwaja'. The battle scenes were hilarious...and of course who can forget the Akbar trying to cajole the young elephant to look ferocious as he tries to tame it. As usual, I was very impressed by Mrs. Rai Bachchan. She has, as one critic put it - different context - an elusive appeal...it eluded almost everyone who saw her.

Katha Parayumbol
A humorous and satirical take on celebrity worship, laced with enough melodrama to satisfy the common junta. This was one of the better malayalam movies to come out in recent times. The picturised against the idyllic and verdant backdrop of interior Kerala, the movie is inhabited by all the familiar characters that you will see in a sleepy village in Kerala. Acting is good all round and Mammotty shines in an excellent cameo.

Taare Zameen Par
A wonderful performance by the kid. But this pretensious movie is ANYTHING but an eye opener on dyslexia. With every cliches that the average hindi movie contains and characters that are an insult to cardboards, Aamir Khan's directorial venture disappoints and irritates.

Timeline...

2008-03-14T20:51:00.007Z

Indus Valley Civilization

[6000BC - 1700 BC]

Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa

[3300 BC - 1600 BC]

Asoka
[304 BC - 232 BC]

Sher Shah Suri

[1486 - 1545]

Akbar

[1542 - 1605]

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi

[1869 - 1948]

India

[1947 - ]

Wonder, Passion, Freedom, Beauty, Love

Limbo - A review

2008-02-21T20:44:00.006Z

'...and, they lived happily ever after.'

A lot of factors go into the making of a truly memorable movie. A great script, capable director, competent acting, and technically able hands behind the camera are among the main contributers in creating a work of art that can rise above the pedestrian. But, there are occasions when the ending has ruined the impact of what till then has been a compelling watch...reducing the movie from what could have been truly great to somewhat ordinary.

What is the perfect resolution...when does a story really end...what is a denouement?

These are some of the questions that go through the mind of a storyteller when he is plotting and pushing his story towards a satisfying climax. Today, in most cases studio executives - sometimes test audiences too - decide how a movie ends, because for them movie making is finally a business proposition and like any business venture even movie making is dictated by profitability, and sometimes the director's version is showcased in the directors's cut DVD. But this hasn't stopped capable and fearless auteurs from fighting to retain what they believe is in perfect synthesis with what has played out till then, and usually these are independent productions financed by art houses who give established directors the creative liberty to fashion their work the way they want to. The open ended conclusion, though not very popular with the average movie goer, is a device film makers employ allowing the audience to provide the resolution of their choice. Some may argue that the director copped out by not committing to a conclusion or didn't know what to do after a point or may have been plain lazy. But there are times when the resolution of a story demands it...rather enhances the production to a superior level.

Limbo, written and directed by John Sayles, is one such movie. Starting off as a character driven drama, the movie diverges into an adventure that can be called a thriller though it doesn't really stick to the conventional norms of how a thriller unfolds. The unhurried style of pacing and the deliberately slow peeling of layers that allow us an insight into the main characters hide a sense of languid dread.

Joe is an silent and introverted man with a past who is exploring a tentative relationship with Donna, a lounge bar singer who has been flitting in an out of relationships. Noelle, Donna's daughter is struggling with her own demons and while Joe and Donna attempt to connect in a more meaninful manner, the mother and daughter are gradually drifting away from each other. That's when Joe's brother shows up and invites him to crew a boat and Joe in turn invite Donna and her daughter on the trip. As it turns out this is no ordinary trip and soon enough Joe's brother is killed and the three protagonists find themselves on an island, cold, damp and wet. What could possibly have been a survival adventure, turns into something more as the three of them battle the elements and themselves, in the process learning more about each other. An element of danger is introduced, when supposed help might not turn out that way and redemption might be in the most unexpected manner.

The ending might not be conventional, but, even though I was for a moment caught unawares, I realized that it could not have ended any other way and I marvelled at the beautiful simplicity of it. It has been written that John Sayles himself didn't know how to end it, which is why he chose to do it this way...and I, for one, am glad he did it this way. Any other ending would not do justice to what unfolded and would have at best been an epilogue. Also, the dairy that Noelle finds on the island and which she reads out to her mother and Joe mirrors what is happening with them on the island. If you really look at it, the dairy foreshadows what becomes of the three and in a very oblique way is also one of the main reasons for bridging the divide of mistrust between the mother and the daughter.

Set against the backdrop of beautiful Alaska, the tone of the movie is certainly not that of warm bonhomie and there is a certain sense of dankness in the air. The backdrop for the main characters essentially troubled lives, find the perfect canvas in the wonderfully evocative cinematography that captures the brooding and gloomy atmosphere pervading the proceedings. Acting, including from the secondary characters, is very competent indeed. David Strathairn is as good as he always is, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio is quitely efficient, and I thought Vanessa Martinez, who played Noelle, was really good.

Limbo might not be for everyone, but for movie goers who are looking for something more than just solid entertainment, this could be for you.

Feeling...

2008-01-18T11:19:00.000Z

“When the sparrow sings its final refrain, the hush is felt nowhere more deeply than in the heart of man.”

Don Williams, Jr. (American Novelist and Poet, b.1968)

Smoking thrills

2007-10-30T12:52:00.000Z

Welcome to the new age of cinema.

No Smoking is a self indulgent journey into the mind of the artist thru' his work. This is Anurag Kashyap making the kind of movie he wants... for himself, without pandering to the expectations of an audience. He doesn't give you what you expect and he certainly is not apologetic about it either. Like all good movies, it demands audience involvement and doesn't provide you with easy answers...if it provides any answers at all. True it is not perfect and one can find a lot of faults with it, especially the second half, which tends to plod a little bit, but rest assured, this is a surreal, claustrophobic, metaphysical journey that eschews everything movie making is supposed to be in today's world of candy floss entertainment. For all those interested in movies as an experience to discuss and debate…No Smoking is your kind of movie.

The plot for whatever that can be gathered, revolves around K a self centered, successful and arrogant protagonist working in one of those anonymous swanky jobs. He is a compulsive smoker who is persuaded by one of his friends to approach Baba Bengali, who runs something like a de-addiction center, to get rid of the nicotine habit. After being forced to sign a contract, K finds that Baba Bengali uses rather unconventional methods to persuade K to give up smoking. Anurag Kashyap essentially uses the plot point of one of the short stories by Stephen King as a jumping off point and uses smoking as a plot device (ostensibly to get past the censors?) and a metaphor to address issues of 'choice', 'free will', individualism' and more while channelizing Kafka, Goethe and Ayn Rand among others. There are a host of other subplots that can probably only be best answered by Anurag himself. The narrative is linear enough, but linearity itself doesn't mean it is easy to understand. Using visual imagery Anurag conjures up a world that evokes visions of hell and nightmares, alternating between reality and dreams. The main theme is about how the individual spirit is always waging a war against a system of conformity...K stands for all those who are fighting to be an individual in a world that demands conformity. Even as K repeats to himself, 'No one tells me what to do'..we all know that for him there will be no redemption in any conventional sense...'cause in the end we have to sell our soul to follow to be a part of the system - Goethe?

In a movie that is chiefly a vehicle for the director to showcase himself, acting was always going to take a backseat, but most of the major actors acquit themselves favourably. I was impressed by John Abraham in the role of K. The protagonist, K, is not a wholly developed character...he is just an idea of a particular kind of person and John pitches it very well.

Visually the movie is stunning and an achievement by itself. This is one of Rajeev Ravi’s better works yet and arguably among the top this year in Indian cinemas. Among the highlights are K's descend to the prayogshala which is eerie and spooky and the beautiful yet mysterious imagery generated by the nightmare sequence in Siberia.

It is debatable if smoking was the right choice as a metaphor...but it works in a warped way, 'cause smoking is always associated with something that is bad and wrong and treading a path that is different has also being frowned upon. I guess No Smoking is Anurag's way of saying go fuck yourselves...this is the kind of movie I make and whether you like it or not is not my problem - though deep inside he will be hoping to find an audience for it too. Some may argue that the business of making movies is exactly that, a business and that involves commercial considerations too. But if a director finds a producer who understands the commercial (un)viability of the enterprise and is yet willing to back his vision to bring out a particular representation of art out...who are we to criticize. For too long we have been fed trite, expensive and vapid features as movies, I guess it is time we start acquiring taste for better cinemas and though movies like No Smoking may not be perfect, it is a step in the right direction towards meaningful cinemas.

Though a lot of questions will remain unanswered after the end of the screening, ultimately, No Smoking will lend itself to more discussions and dissections and will attain the status of a cult movie.

Mellow...

2007-10-25T06:32:00.000Z

jeene ke liye...socha hi na tha, dard sambhalane honge

muskuraoon to...muskurane ki, karz utaarne honge

muskuraoon kabhi...to lagata hai jaise

hontonn pe karz rakhaa hai
tujhase naaraaz nahi zindagi, hairaan hoon main

tere masoom savalon se pareshaan hoon main

Iceman at Interlagos, Brazil

2007-10-23T18:55:00.000Z

Kimi Matais Raikkonen, the World Drivers Champion 2007.

Now, who would have thought that two weeks a month back...with two races to go and 17 points behind leader 'rookie' Lewis - I use the word rookie very loosely here. No driver has come as prepared into the gruelling cauldron of F1 like Lewis Hamilton. From the age of 10 he was groomed to be formula 1 and McLaren have been polishing and fine tuning him to be their ace in the pack and on his debut season gave him a bulletproof machine that was not only fast...but extremely reliable. Deliver he did, from the first race in Australia till Japan less than a month away before self destructing magnificently, proving to most outside UK that beyond all the hyperbole of him being the greatest F1 driver ever...he was just another rookie. He screwed up twice in a matter of two sundays to handover an unlikely victory to Kimi ' the iceman' Raikkonen. McLaren and teh whole of the British will cry hoarse that it was McLaren's fault and not Lewis's, but it was apparent to everyone that it was he who drove the silver car into the gravel in Shanghai and it was he who went on to the grass when he unnecessarily tried to take back a place from Alonso losing places before accidently hit the neutral switch that lost him 30 seconds and the drivers title.

No one will grudge Kimi this title. Surely it looked like a third time unlucky for him after missing out on the 2003 and 2005 titles to Schumacher and Alonso. But driving like a dream in the second half of the season, he not only upstaged his team mate Felipe Massa, but also slowly but steadily caught up with the leaders and then amassed an amazing 26 points in the last three races to snatch the title away by just 1 point. Kimi also won 6 races this season to 4 each for Lewis and Alonso and set 7 fastest lap races for the season. Massa has to be thanked for his supporting role and though he wanted to go for the win himself, he knew that if Kimi stood a chance he had to move over...but it must be said, aided by a small mistake by Massa, Kimi on sheer pace came out in front of his team mate.

The title may yet change hands as McLaren has appealed against a technical infringment by the BMW and the Williams cars and the disqualification of the cars will elevate Lewis's points making him the 2007 WDC. It would be shame if Lewis wins the title on court when he and McLaren managed lose it on the track and F1 will not cover itself in glory if that happens.

So that brought to an end one of the most exciting of F1 season. 2008 promises and Lewis will am sure come back with experience under his belt, but it remains to be seen if McLaren can deliver a good car for two seasons in a row, else Lewis will be fighting with the midfield and then we will know how good the 'greatest' F1 driver of all time will fare, cause it was evident that he had problem making crucial decisions. Kimi as usual will be fast and will be in contention as will be Alonso whichever team he will be driving. Massa will definetly mix himself in the fray, so will Kubica, Heidfeld, Kovalainen and Vettal.

Oh, did I mention that we will have an Indian team among the lineup for the 2008 season

Formula One

2007-10-08T10:57:00.000Z

The refreshing smoothness of Old Monk, corrupted slightly by a heavy fizz of Diet Coke went quite nicely with the heavy roars of 900 bhp engines revving at almost 19000 rpms in the penultimate race of the 2007 F1 season, held at Shanghai, China...and what a race it turned out to be, setting up the finale of an intriguing season just perfectly. Interlagos, Brazil...here we come.

Dateline October 21.

Timeline 2130hrs IST.

'...and when the five red lights go out, the 2007 Brazilian Grand Prix is on to decide the WDC in one of the most closely fought F1 seasons in a long time.'

No doubt, 2006 was close after Ferrari's and a certain Schumacher's resurgence during the second half of the season, only to implode at the Japanese circuit when the normally reliable Ferrari engine failed in spectacular fashion to handover the title to Alonso in the final race at Brazil. The year before that, McLaren's incredibly quick but extremely fragile car failed to hold together for Kimi to outlast an amazingly reliable Renault, driven home to both the WCC and the WDC titles by Fernando Alonso. The three drivers in the mix to come up trumps two weeks from now include the two time world champion Fernando Alonso, rookie Lewis Hamilton and the Finn Kimi Raikkonnen. While the three of them fancy their chances, its obviously Hamilton's to lose now as he just needs to finish the race in the top four to be hailed as the 2007 WDC.

But the vagaries of sports is such that beyond making a calculated guess about the outcome, there is no certainty, as there are a host of outside parameters that can come into play. So with all to play for, the fans of F1 can look forward to a weekend that promises to bring to an end one of the most exciting championship battles in recent times.

I will be rooting for Ferrari's Kimi Raikkonnen to do the improbable and come out of this holding the WDC 2007 trophy. He is a true racing driver..not really bothered too much about the politics behind this multi-billion dollar sports. Not that he is a great advertisement for the sport...but no one can accuse him of being unfair or obnoxious. If he says he doesn't care who he drives alongside with...he truly doesn't care.

Lewis drove impeccably in most of his races, though the tag about him being in the same league as Senna, Proust or Schumacher is just hyperbole. In the first year of his F1 career, Lewis has been blessed with an amazingly reliable McLaren that was also one of the two quickest cars this year. Also, unlike Alonso, he didn't have to adapt to a new set of tyres - one of the most important component of an F1 car. He has also managed to cash in on the misfortunes of his championship contenders by being consistently able to bring his car to the finish. Reliabilty issues that dogged the Ferrari's during the early part of the season also played a part in giving Lewis enough room to play with his destiny. All this, is not intended to cast doubt on Lewis's ability, like they say, to come first you have to finish ahead of your competitors, and that he has done that. But the media frenzy with respect to Lewis has become something of a distraction and Lewis has also learned to use them to suit his interests. He has moved away from the image of a naive lil protégé to that of unctuous and occasionally smooth operator. We mustn't forget that he started the train of bitter and acrimonious chain of events that led to the feud between him and Alonso. First he complained that the team was not allowing him to race (Monaco) and then openly defied team orders in Hungary. So he can't cloak himself in the holier-than-thou attitude. Granted Alonso is as temperamental as they come - almost a caricature, but am sure he deserved the respect that is normally accorded to a world champion...especially as he has come fresh after beating The Great One.

To highlight Ferrari's slow start to the season, here are some interesting numbers.

Lewis has had an amazing start to the season, but if you look at the last 10 races, Kimi has consistently outscored or outdriven him and scored more points than him.

Last 10 races (Since Indianapolis)

Kimi : 73 [4 Wins, 2 Second, 2 Third, 1 Fourth, 1 DNF]
Alonso : 63 [2 wins, 3 Second, 2 Third, 1 Fourth, 1 Seventh, 1 DNF]
Lewis : 59 [3 Wins, 1 Second, 2 Third, 1 Fourth, 1 Fifth, 1 DNF, 1 NP]
Massa : 53 [1 Win, 3 Second, 2 Third, 1 Fifth, 1 Sixth, 1 DNF, 1 NP]

This just goes to show how a bad start to your season can have a considerable effect on the chances for Championships. Ferrari had the same problem last year and it is being repeated this year too. Last year it cost Micheal Schumacher the WDC and this year, it will cost Kimi Raikkonnen too...barring a miracle.

But, whoever wins this year...he can be proud and he will be deserved winner.

Bring on the Old Monk...

...and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls

2007-08-16T09:46:00.000Z

No man is an island, entire of itself;

every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;

if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less...

any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind...

Alone he lay, wondering if this was really the end. Was this where his journey took him...was this the destination. Alone, he lay sprawled on the plush persian carpet not able to really understand the immense heat that was spreading through his body and the constriction he felt in his chest. He lay isolated in a city of teeming millions surrounded by just flooding memories, impossible dreams and feeling of unquenchable thirst.

It was not more than a day when he sat with his friends and contemplated about the mysteries and vagaries of life and about the future that lay ahead, wrapped in a cloak of promise and potential.

It was not more than a couple of hours ago he was with her on the phone, connected to an inner longing that was manifesting itself through myriad emotions fleeting across a landscape of words that held more meaning by what was unsaid.

It was not more than a few moments ago when he laughed out at the overwhelming feeling of being alive to savour the endorphin rush of being there at last.

It was an instant ago he felt the exhilaration of knowing that he had redefined impossible.

It was at the same instant he knew that there wouldn't be any more promises. The ephemeral chase to reach out to the innate call was answered and there wouldn't be another chance to know anything...anymore. He didn't know what he was leaving back...but he knew that he wouldn't know it either. In that undefinable instant of time when the the light extinguished, a lifetime worth of sadness descended on him, scattering him among the minefield of memories.

Perchance he for whom this bell tolls, may be so ill,

as that he knows not it tolls for him;

and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am,

as that they who are about me...may have caused it to toll for me...

and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

it tolls for thee.

Rest in peace, my friend...for we are the lesser now.

Uneasy is the night

2007-07-18T13:01:00.000Z

He woke up with a start. He didn't know what had waken him, but something definitely had. Wide awake he could feel his heart thump against his chest. There was a very faint smell of something very familiar, but he couldn't place it. He wondered if anyone else was in the apartment, but then dismissed the possibility. He tried to peer around the semi darkness and didn't seem to find anything unusual. The door that led out from the bedroom to sprawling balcony that overlooked the sea was slightly ajar. He tried to recollect if he had closed it, but then decided he might've forgotten to shut it firmly. He listened hard to see if he could hear anything unusual, but other than the steady humming of the AC and the very distant rumblings of a probable thunderstorm he couldn't hear anything else.

He reached out to his watch kept on the table beside the bed. It was only a quarter past 3 am. Something was bothering him. He looked around to where he usually kept his bottle of water and felt a trifle annoyed at not finding it there. He thought he remembered seeing it there before he slept. The uneasiness increased as he felt a trail of sweat on his forehead. His mouth was parched and he needed water desperately, but something about night made him hesitate and slightly scared to move out of the relative comforts of his bed.

Finally he couldn't control the dryness in his mouth and he got up and groped for the bedside switch. The room was awash in light and for a moment the eeriness he was feeling disappeared, until he noticed a trail of water leading from his bed to the dining hall, which wasn't there when he had come in to the bedroom. His heart beat faster and he found himself following the trail of water to the room beyond. He tried switching on the light, but inexplicably the light refused to turn on. Now he was positively scared. The bedroom light coming out through the door lit a path directly to the fridge. He found that the fridge door was slightly open and water was still dripping from inside it. For a moment his mind stopped thinking and he looked at the gray-black 350 liters fridge. He stood still for a seemingly long time before a trace of smile appeared on his smile.

He realized that a bottle of water kept in the fridge must have fallen and the water must have poured out. That explained the trail of water from the fridge to the bedroom. Intense relief surged through him as he realized how irrational fears can consume you until you almost become stricken with paranoia and let your imagination take over.

He silently let out a whoop of delight and realized how scared he had become for those few moments. Feeling slightly foolish, he walked back to the bedroom and taking a cigarette, lit it and walked to the balcony. The sky certainly looked dark and the heavens were waiting to open up. Looking out to the ocean, he took a long drag and exhaled slowly. Far down below, all of 34 floors below, he could see the waves turning into froth in ribbons of faint white against the inky blackness of the ocean waters. In all the excitement, he had forgotten how thirsty he was. As he turned towards the bedroom, he suddenly caught that whiff of familiarity again. He puzzled over it as he walked back and found it strange that it seemed to be coming from the dining hall. It was certainly strange, but unlike earlier, he was not that perturbed about it.

He realized that in the relief that enveloped him, he had forgotten to close the door of the fridge properly. He walked towards it and yanked the door open...

The sharp crack of thunder did not die out the screaming.

Writer's block...a blessing?

2007-07-16T07:49:00.000Z

Then it happened.

I didn't know what to write. No, that’s not correct...I have so many ideas, but nothing that lasts. The half life of most of the stories that flit through my thoughts is infinitesimally small. Compared to it, the lifetime of most particles generated in one of those massive cyclotrons that lasts for probably some billionth of a nanosecond, seem long and interminable. Needless to say, neither do these stories - or ideas bordering on an idea for a story - generate enough electric impulses to trouble the afferent and efferent nerves to issue any command that remotely resembles acting on an impulse.

I will be flattering myself and giving even those average hacks who can concoct and come up with a few thousand words at the mention of a theme - sometimes they don't even need that - collective apoplexy followed by paroxysms of violent behaviour, if I say I am in the middle of a writer's block. But then, no one has a monopoly over a term that has outlived its use, since the advent of the Internet and more recently...the blogosphere. The BLOGOSPHERE for Nathuram Godse's sake...where did that come from. New words keep cropping up…new words, re-inventions of old English, bastardization and corruption of words and grammar that will have Wren and Martin wanting a few pills of the amphetamine variety to try and reconcile themselves to a world that has crushed, powdered, dried and repacked the English language to a new and improved front loading multi-cultural, multi-regional in your face lingua franca of the world. But, with the reliance on oh-so-pure English, with its Victorian connotations, idiosyncratic spellings and pronunciations and a structure of grammar that can make anyone scale up a wall, not really a necessity why am I not able to produce industrious amounts of literature to ram it up the conscience of unsuspecting travelers of the blog world. I, who rarely if ever, appreciated the adage about brevity being the soul of wit and would struggle to keep my comprehensions and precis writing efforts to the required minimum number of words, am struck. No one has accused me of being concise in my arguments, while I have always thought that I haven't been elaborate enough. Its another matter that occasionally my well rounded conclusion on whatever I was talking about, may not have anything to do with the topic of discussion. But just goes to show, how well versed I am and how you should give me the liberty of elaboration if only to feel enriched and feel more scholarly after spending a little time with me.

Oh well...here I am with not a clue as to what to write about and going on about something that I really don’t care about...well not too much to write about anyway. Language as they say is another mode of verbal communication or misdirection...and I have gotten lost far too many times for it to be ascribed to communication alone. Some say it has to do with my inability to condescend to understand another person, while I guess it has more to do with my own sense of exalted erudition in conflict with the average imbecility prevalent around me...well its my opinion alone and so please hold back on all those verbal assaults and insults. If you cannot desist, please mail it to my id…I can only take so much insult in a public forum.

Well, I hope to be writing soon, which I am sure might be in conflict with your wishes, but then we rarely get what we wish for anyway…and sometimes, as you are soon going to find out, it might be a blessing.

The Reluctant Fundamentalist

2007-05-29T09:35:00.000Z

That day, feeling slightly high on a rationed quantity of Old Monk and carbonated fizz, I walked in home to find my brother and my dad talking about a plane crashing into the WTC and even as I was trying to register surprise...I heard that another plane had crashed into its twin tower and suddenly there was this enormous possibility of it being deliberate. I remember feeling sad about the people trapped in the twin towers...but somewhere deep inside me, I was smiling at seeing the confusion within the American Intelligentsia...and in one fell swoop, the US of A was exposed to war on their own land.

From the second half of the twentieth century, the US has been waging wars in far off places...in the name of installing, preserving and fostering democracy. No other country in history has killed as many people in collateral damages and economic sanctions as the US has done and the most interesting aspect of these wars were that almost all of them were fought away from home. So to see the world's only 'superpower' brought to its knees and forage in the dark for enemies to shoot at amidst unprecedented confusion...brought on a sense of reluctant satisfaction. Somehow I can't bring myself to use the 'wounded tiger' analogy about the Americans, but what followed was predictable...finding a suspect and providing 'swift and sustained' retribution on the enemies of 'America' and the 'war on terror'.

Ok, the preamble was necessary to understand the reaction behind a thought provoking good read, Mohsin Hamid's 'Reluctant Fundamentalist'.

Changez is a Pakistani who graduates from Princeton at the top of his class and is absorbed into Underwood Samson, a premier valuation firm. Life is really looking up for him and though at times he feels a little bit affronted by the supposed lack of 'cultural etiquette' among his peers, he is beginning to enjoy his growing stature. He also begins to have a very tentative relationship with an American woman, Erica, who is trying hard to cope with the loss of her lover. On an assignment in Manila, he hears about the planes crashing into the World Trade Center and he smiles as he evidences a feeling of faint cheer in seeing the world's 'superpower' been brought to its knees. The events post 9/11 starts changing his perception about himself and he begins questioning his identity, becoming defensive about his identity as a Muslim. On a trip to Chile to do an assessement on a book publishing firm, he learns about the Janissaries and he wonders if he isn't a modern day Janissary after all. Not being able to take it anymore, he quits Underwood Samson and moves back to Lahore, where it he has become a staunch anti-American critic. One day he meets up with an American in a Lahore supermarket and he begins telling his story.

Told in a monologue, Hamid writes in a very lucid manner and conveys through his central character...the identification that we all reach at some point in time, to the person we are and why it is very difficult to get rid of our roots in a world that is essentially becoming one big cosmopolitan cesspool. I wont vouch for it, but this I guess is the same sense of feeling that makes a second generation Indian or a Pakistani in London to support India or Pakistan in a cricket match against England and most of these people know of India and Pakistan only through their parents and the influence of mass media in the form of entertainment and news. The idea of using Changez as a device to speak to us may be artificial and for it to work, we have to buy into the premise, considering that the story is told in one sitting to an unnamed American (?) in a open air restaurant in Lahore. Throughout the narrative, we only hear Changez speaking and responding to the American. There is a certain ambiguity to the identity of the American and what he is doing there at that time, which adds to the increasing tension towards the close.

The central theme of 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist' is how a normal young man, who buys into the US way of life, at ease among his American colleagues and friends, being ashamed of where he comes from and getting alienated on each successive visit home, begins to question his identity and finds that while he helps the superpower influence its way in an increasingly global world, his home country is getting left behind. The narration, starting of as a mild condemnation of the western way of life, becomes increasingly strident and judgmental towards the last third of the book, especially when the narrative begins to explore the increasingly disturbed mind of the protagonist as he begins to question his role as a 'janissary' in his role at Underwood Samson - a not too subtle symbol for US. Changez relationship with Erica also serves as metaphor for his relationship with US. This point also is driven in a none too subtle manner as he can have her only if he pretends to be some other person.

Somehow, I believe that, with the Changez-Erica part of the story, Hamid was trying to drum up the analogies...which I thought was not necessary. Some say, it gives the protagonist a whole rounded personality if there is a love interest involved too (in terms of commercial best sellers, at least), but why does every other thing that happens in his life to mirror his inner turmoil. The premise was set, so I didn't think it was necessary to really drive home the point, and, Erica, to me at least, was jarring, with her constant mourning and pining for her lost lover. (Was Hamid trying to be cute, I don’t know…but it would definitely seem so if you read it as, Erica=America and Chris=innocence and to have Erica, Changez has to become Chris).

But these are minor nitpickings because at its very core 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist', though decidedly biased, is a highly entertaining read with a deliciously ambiguous ending.

Mohsin Hamid, a Princeton graduate himself, has acknowledged in one of his interviews that he was also not very different from Changez, except that his reaction was tempered by a slightly more tolerant approach. I believe that the author has tapped into his own sense of identity and used the protagonist to identify the fissures that can crack and how the very nature of conflict between US imperialism and its foreign policies has its consequences in the making of many more reluctant fundamentalists.

...we shall build another tower in the sky

2007-05-17T19:08:00.000Z

'Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it so that the other half may reach you'.
Sand and Foam - Khalil Gibran

Deceptively simple, these are some of the most beautiful lines I have read in any writings.

MY FRIEND, you are not my friend, but how shall I make you understand
My path is not your path, yet together we walk, hand in hand.

Let there be no purpose in friendship save the deeping of the spirit.

You may sit at your window watching the passersby. And watching you may see a nun walking toward your right hand, and a prostitute toward your left hand.And you may say in your innocence, "How noble is the one and how ignoble is the other."But should you close your eyes and listen awhile you would hear a voice whispering in the ether, "One seeks me in prayer, and the other in pain. And in the spirit of each there is a bower for my spirit."

They say to me in their awakening, "You and the world you live in are but a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea."
And in my dream I say to them, "I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore."

The significance of a man is not in what he attains, but rather what he longs to attain.

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

You have your ideology and I have mine.

One day you will ask me which is more important, my life or yours?
I will say mine and you will walk away not knowing that you are my life.

Nothing you become will disappoint me, I have no preconception that I'd like to see you be or do. I have no desire to forsee you, only to discover you. You can't disapoint me.

Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you.
It was but yesterday we met in a dream.
You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky.
But now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn.
The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part.
If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more,
We shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song,
And if our hands should meet in another dream,
We shall build another tower in the sky.

I said to my friend:
"See her leaning over his arm?
Yesterday she leaned over my arm."
And he said:
"Tomorrow she will lean over mine."

And I said:
"See her sitting at his side?
And yesterday she sat at my side."
And he said:
"Tomorrow she will sit at mine."

And I said:
"Don't you see her drinking from his cup?
And yesterday she sipped from mine."
And he said:
"Tomorrow she will drink from mine."

And I said:
"Look how she glances at him with eyes full of Love!
and with just such love, yesterday she glanced at me."
And he said:
"Tomorrow she will glance at me, likewise."

And I said:
"Listen to her whispering songs of love in his ears;
And yesterday she whispered the same songs in mine."
And he said:
"Tomorrow she will whisper them in mine."

And I said:
"Look at her embracing him;
and yesterday she embraced me."
And he said:
"Tomorrow she will lie in my arms."

And I said:
"What a strange woman she is!!"
And he said:
"She is life!"

Spiderman - yaaawwwnnn

2007-05-14T18:52:00.000Z

With great powers come great responsibility...sadly Spiderman 3 fails to recognize its own powers gained over two clearly superior prequels

What a let down. Boring, one word that can describe the third instalment of this hugely successful franchise. To make the final part bigger, the makers tried to do a little too much...thereby destroying the essentially childish, yet adorable charm of the prequels. Not only does Spidernam and his alter ego have to battle three villians, he also has to fight his own swelling ego brought on by public's acceptance of his exploits, seek revenge on his uncle's killer, try to save his relationship with Mary Jane from breaking up, try and patch up with his best friend, shed copious amounts of tears, do a strange jig on the streets and generally be so...Gay. None of the action set pieces - the primary reason why we go to watch a superhero movie - is a shade on the 'train out of control sequence' from Spiderman 2. In fact the novelty of Spiderman swinging across the sky scrapers is not there anymore, so we look forward to even bigger set pieces, of which there are...none. Even the climax where he has to battle Sandman and Venom is such a tame affair. I for one agree, if there is an attempt to flesh out the character of a Superhero by giving him a backstory and probably a raison d'etre for his very existence, but that doesnt mean one has to make him a psychoanalyst's case study. In 3, Spiderman has to fight so many demons inside him, which meant that the CGI folks could wait at the bar, till Spidey is done quelling his psychosis and with a few too many inside them they return and figured, 'What the hell, anyways this is gonna be a money spinner...why the hell should we even do anything. You know what, lets hang MJ once again from the top of a building or a crane and lets make Spiderman fight Sandman and Venom, while trying to save his love'. Which shows. One of my chief grouse is that Kirsten Dunst, who is one of my fav actresses is not very flattering in the movie. In fact she is hardly there. She is not your traditional beauty...but I find her strangely delicious :)

Well, what is the movie all about?

Spiderman has gained acceptance and he is liking it. He is doing good at college, his relationship with MJ couldn't have been better and he is getting ready to propose to MJ. Things are looking rosy until he gets afflicted by some stuff from outer space called symbiote, which though enhances his powers also enhances his agressive personality and that leads to an an inflated ego...and begins ignoring MJ, who is not having a particularly good time at Broadway and wants a crutch and seeks it from Harry. Even as MJ takes solace in Harry's arms, his on - off relationship with Spiderman / Peter Parker turns sour, because Spidey is busy pretending to be gay (I made this up, but you should see this segment..its so funny). Spiderman meanwhile also finds out that Sandman was responsible for his uncle's death, so he wants revenge. Oh I forgot to mention Peter Parker's rival camera slinger at the Daily Bugle who ends up becoming Venom...dont ask me how or why. Now Venom and Sandman have major issues with our sticky fingers. Harry finally understands that Spiderman didnt kill his dad and decides to join hands with Spiderman, who has managed to dissociate from the Symbiote, to save MJ who decided to get kidnapped by Venom and Sandman. And in the climatic free for all, Harry does a Viru ( a la Sholay) and dies in the arms of MJ.

This is the kind of movies where we dont talk about plot holes - cause it is likely we are sitting in one of them. We have to avoid mentioning them because, plot holes will imply having a plot. But I am sure these kind of movies are made with one particular objective...to make money, and that it has and will. I just wish that they had made it less complicated and more fun like its decidedly more superior predecessors. They were not classics, but at least they had more warmth and there was a sense of joy watching them, unlike this ponderous and bloated waste of effort and time.

So, even if you have a couple of hours to spend and even if you enjoy mindless entertainment and even if you are the biggest fan of Spiderman, this side of the known universe...if you have taken the tickets prepared to be...BORED.

Veyilode Villayadi

2007-05-07T20:34:00.000Z

Humiliation wrought on by severe chastisement of a youthful indiscretion can change the course of a life...forever.

This is the underlying motif of one of the better movies I saw over the past few weeks, a rather energetic and vibrant movie, Veyil. A touch overlong, a tad contrived and a plot that is predictable, maybe, but it doesn't detract from the fact that Veyil is highly absorbing and eminently watchable.

Aimed at capturing the ambience of a sun kissed southern village in Tamilnadu, the cinematography is wonderfully evocative. Meandering thru the fields and by lanes, the picturesque sequences that accompany the song 'veyilode villayadi' capture a certain joie de vivre of life when we were kids.

For having gone to watch a movie during school hours, Murugesan, is dragged, beaten, tied up naked and left in the sun for an entire day by his father. Unable to bear the humiliation he steals his mother’s jewelry and runs away from home. He grows up under the care of a theater caretaker and comes to love the magic of movies. Possibly the illusions created by larger than life movies help him forget his past, or at least keep the memories dormant. At one point in time he speaks of going back after he has made it in life. He also falls for a village girl and there are promises in the horizon. But life is not too kind on him and defeated by the vagaries of fate, after twenty years, he returns home. Kathir, his younger brother, who is now running a successful business and taking care of the household, is overjoyed at his return though his father is still angry. Though welcomed back into the family, Murugesan is low on confidence as everywhere around him life seems to have passed him by. His only solace is in the company of his childhood sweetheart, a single mother trying to eke out a living making matchsticks. They find in each other like souls and in the comfort of this knowledge they try to pick and build a life out of the dregs of failure.

Pasupathy, as Murugesan, puts in a remarkable performance. Though he is not at ease when asked to be romantic, he exudes a sense of vulnerability to his portrayal of a person searching for his lost childhood. This is compounded by the fact that he realises that he has failed in life.

All others essay their parts well and though there are missteps, there doesn’t seem to be an insincere performance in front of and behind the camera.

The movie is at its best when it deals with the relationships between Murugesan and others in his family...especially so is the relationship between with Murugesan and Kathir. The script is not taut enough and tends towards contrivances post interval, as it tries a little too much to pull at the heartstrings and there are a few extra songs than was necessary. With tighter editing and probably around 30 minutes less, Veyil could have been one of best this year, as it is it qualifies to be recommended.

The man who counted to infinity...twice

2007-05-03T11:37:00.000Z

I am sure we have all come across Chuck Norris factoids...but here are a few gems,

Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.

Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.

If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.

Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

Chuck Norris has already been to Mars; that's why there are no signs of life there.

They once made a Chuck Norris toilet paper, but it wouldn't take shit from anybody.

A blind man once stepped on Chuck Norris' shoe. Chuck replied, "Don't you know who I am? I'm Chuck Norris!" The mere mention of his name cured this man blindness. Sadly the first, last, and only thing this man ever saw, was a fatal roundhouse delivered by Chuck Norris.

Chuck Norris kicked Neo out of Zion , now Neo is "The Two"

When Chuck Norris had surgery, the anesthesia was applied to the doctors.

Chuck Norris can divide by zero.

Death and perspective...

2007-04-19T12:02:00.000Z

How is the death of 33 people different from the death of 140?

Is it because the former was unexpected, while the latter was just a statistic?

Which is more worthy of our attention?

How do we categorize the impact of these two separate incidents on our collective vacuous consciousness?

Which is a greater tragedy...the one wrought upon by a disturbed mind or the one that was a collateral effect of an interventionist policy of a nation on another?

Every death is sad and a tragedy...but in today’s world even death is a number.

The dead too had a story before they became anonymous digits aimed at satisfying the collective masturbatory fantasies of a society that thrives on sound bytes of infinitesimal lifespan. What are a few deaths, especially as they remain faceless and lay mangled in market places and work places? Fathers and sons, brothers and sisters, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, everyone reduced to a single number.

So what else is news then...

Energetic discussions of the 'sangeet' ceremony and the guest list at Amitabh's house for
the impending event of the century - the importance of this day, second only to the day we celebrated our first Independence day back in 1947 - preceded any other topics. Tarot card readers held sway on who will win the world cup ("Sri Lanka will win the match against Australia, only if they bat, bowl and field well...but Australia can also win, provided they don’t take Sri Lanka lightly and play according to a plan"). Shilpa Shetty cannot be dragged away from creating 'news', especially after she single handedly showed the decadent 'western world' the ideals and virtues of a 'Bharatiya Naari' by putting Ms. Goody two shoes in her place. These days Ms Shetty is out destroying our culture by allowing 'An officer and a Gentleman' to repeatedly kiss her...effigies has to be burnt, she should be stoned. Reams of paper, gigabytes of bandwidth and copious amounts of alcohol has flowed over the 'supposed' non performance of a team ranked sixth in the world - among the eight who actually play the game. The world cup has at least given all those forgotten cricketers self important roles as 'experts' and 'analysts'. I say that the biggest revolution in Indian cricket has been not the likes of the Gavaskars, the Kapil Devs or the Tendulkars...its has been Ms. Mandira 'the noodle strap' Bedi. She has collectively captured the imagination of even those not interested in cricket...who cares who wins or loses as long as Mandira wriggles around and gives poor Charu Sharma and the other panelists collective apoplexy. Buying into her own popularity, she has decided to auction each of the sarees that she wears on the show thru ebay...now, who wouldnt want that?

When we have these, why do we need to ramble about a few deaths here and there? People are born...people die. What is the big deal? But yes, what happened at the University was a tragedy. Students who are our future died at the hands of a mad man...he should be shot...what he killed himself, oh well...then he should be tried and shot again. While you are at it send your sms to the question of the day.

Did the killer shoot himself or castrate himself?

If you think the answer is one, type 'Yes, I am a fucked up moron'

and if your answer is two, type 'No, I am a son of a gun'.

India answers.

What of the 140 who died in the bomb blasts...what of them? People are getting killed there everyday...what should we do. After all they should've just let the Americans rule them...they were bringing them democracy right, and if those morons cannot handle democracy, its their problem...all the Americans were asking for in exchange were a few barrels of oil...not those weapons of mass destruction dammit. These Iraqi's I tell you...

Oh and that other thing that you read about - at bottom right of the fourth page of your
daily newspaper - a family of lower caste members being raped and beaten to death in public, all because they thought they could hold on to their property...well what is news worthy about that I ask you, they were being taught a lesson as 'our culture' had to be protected. Our culture and great scriptures explicitly state that we 'can' rape women in our country and plunder the have-nots. Fie, on those that squat outside our shiny villas and reach out their grimy hands through the windows of our swanky cars...they are but photo-opportunities for re-iterating myths. So what if we have a few million hungry or a few million homeless...we are going to build the next Singapore and the next Shanghai, who will travel on the Golden Quadrilateral to attain their nirvana.

When did we grow numb...when did we stop to care?

Short takes - Guru, Rocky Balboa

2007-02-08T06:24:00.000Z

Guru

Too episodic and fragmented and derivative to be coherent . The screenplay is just a selection of events lined up in a chronological fashion, with very loose editing not helping its cause any.

In an effort to make the audience empathize with the protagonist, Gurubhai, Maniratnam portrays him as a opportunistic entrepreneur who fought against the license - permit raaj to build one of India's largest conglomerates. Very obviously modelled on Dhirubhai Ambani, the screenplay plays down the shades of grey in Gurubhai and paints him as a lovable rascal. Maniratnam, as is usually the case with him, after taking on a topical enough theme, backpeddles and refuses to go the whole distance (probably because of the issues Mr. Mukesh Ambani was supposd to have had with the making of the movie) and presents the movie as a linear narrative that is ‘boring’ to say the least often interspersed with songs that break an already tedious pace. Almost all the other characters are poorly defined, because too much effort is spent in trying to polish the central charcter's role.

There is unintended hilarity towards the end when Ashwarya Rai, who plays Gurubhai's wife, acts as a translator to Gurubhai at teh Justice Commision hearing. The speech at the end was so hilarious and badly written (and am not even referencing to the Gandhi comparison), that it sounded amatuerish…I mean Gurubhai’s speech is completely off-context to the charges he has been read out and the ludicrousness is compounded by the appreciative nod by the Justice Commision chairman.

Redeeming elements were the lush cinematography and music.

Why is it that, people in the north india, specially bollywood, have this big thing with Maniratnam. I mean he is one of the better directors, but off late his movies are too derivative. His iconic status, I guess, is primarily to do with people identifying good movies with cinematic flourishes and picture perfect frames.

Rocky Balboa

A movie that rides on a nostalgic wave, Rocky Balboa is surprisingly effective and entertaining.

The dialogues are corny and the situations cliched, but the audience is willingly cajoled and nudged to partake in the final journey of a not so smart underdog, who only knew how to be an effective pugilist...especially when the chips were down. Boxing was incidental to Rocky, but each of his fights were more about seeking something deeper inside than about the actual fight itself. In this, what is to be the final chapter of a series that started more than 15 years ago, Rocky wants to fight one last time and this time its for self respect and dignity and seeking redemption.

The languid pace of the movie, with inserts from previous installments allows us understand the rut his life has fallen into. There are plot points that attempt to flesh out Rocky's character like a developing romantic angle or his alienation from his son, but these serve just as the backdrop. It is when Bill Conti's unforgettable theme starts to the montage of Rocky training that you really feel like singing aloud and you want to stand up and whistle - which is what a few people in the audience did. This is one of the few times, I felt that audience involvement was necessary for the enjoyment of the movie. The last fight is visceral but brief, that serves as an effective sending off to this hunk of a man who got his one last shot to rest the demons.

This has been Sylvester Stalone's best acting job in a long time and if it was the last movie he acted in, he should be reasonably proud.

Grief...

2007-02-05T12:26:00.000Z

The tragedy of loss is not that we grieve, but we cease to grieve and then perhaps the dead are dead at last.

Original Sin - P D James

Yesterdays...

2007-01-31T18:55:00.000Z

The reflection of the sunlight that caressed the gentle undulating waters of the backwaters and the almost still palm trees that served as a lush green backdrop, evoked in me a desire to capture it on a canvas with firm broad strokes of dark grey and murky green and all other hues that fall in between. Closing my eyes, I set to erase and recapture impressions that appeared and dissolved, merging psychedelic colours with hazy imagination. There was a sense of uneasy languidness in the air.

A deep and healthy dose of nicotine brought me back to the sounds of passing vehicles behind me in the distance and it also dawned on me that there was hardly any breeze. The sun was really bright and warm on my face. Flicking the cigarette away, I got up to stretch my legs and walked on the sunburned grass wondering of all the place, why did it have to be this place. Even as I wondered I knew it was me who suggested the place and also that this place was indeed a special place.

It was a beautiful warm day. The cool breeze kept the heat away. We looked across at the palm tree swaying across the water and listened to the sounds of the water slapping against the stony embankment that I was lying down on, with my head on her lap, still savouring the sweetness of her kiss, the warmth of her lips and awakening of a distant primal instinct. I chose this place as it was kind of isolated from the prying eyes of the world and all I wanted was to be alone with her. It had taken less than a minute of an adventurous, surreptitious and extremely serendipitous encounter within the confines of a dark kitchenette, touching distance away from a hundred others, to light the spark of desire. Thereafter feelings struggled to lay dormant. A taste of the forbidden...and desire subsumed us. Today, here besides the gentle lapping of the backwaters, a new journey was beginning and it promised me everything and more.

She was supposed to be here half an hour ago. I lit another cigarette, as I wondered what was keeping her. Today she would be coming. She had no choice as I had none either. With nothing else to do, I looked around to see where I had left my bag and to check if I had taken the two books I had wanted her to read. The bag contained the two books and a matchbox. I looked at the books and wondered if she would like it, or if she would even accept it. I smiled at the realization that though she drew the line at the putrid Harlequin series or M&B's, she still dug Nicholas Sparks, Robert James Waller, MLTR and the Bee Gees. Now I don’t want to sound like I hate them, it’s just that I was never into mush. I liked it yes, but only if it were happening in my life. I was a helpless romantic in my life and I realized it only after she came into my life and opened the doors to a world that showed me ecstatic joy and inexorable pain. Love was not just another emotion, it was the only emotion.

"Today I am taking a leave, so that we can go and celebrate anyway you want to" I told her as we walked towards the bus stop.

There was a squeal of surprise, before she took my hand in hers and looked up to me and said "Thank you so much...so very much".

I saw in her eyes something that I will never forget. So much happiness is a crime, I remember telling her.

"I just want to take as much as I can here and now...I really don’t know about tomorrow. All I know is I am so very happy now." She said, her fingers twirling into mine.

I snapped out of the reverie, just as well...because I sensed rather than saw her come behind me. I turned, looked at her and smiled as I held out my hand. She took my hand and propped herself couple of feet away from me. We didn’t talk anything for a few minutes. In a short while we would be doing all the talking for a lifetime...but until then we just looked at each other and around us, oblivious to the fact that afternoon sun was as warm as it ever was this summer and the air was dry and humid.

My heart was racing as I reached for another cigarette and lit it, allowing the match stick to burn itself out before I flicked it away. She looked sad and vulnerable and there was a hint of moisture in her liquid eyes, but I was probably imagining things. I just looked at her and wished I was somewhere else now, anywhere except here. She looked away for a couple of seconds and then turned to look at me again. There were small beads of sweat just above her upper lips and a stray hair had somehow managed to perch itself on her cute slightly upturned nose. She lifted a well manicured hand to reach out for my hand, and for a moment I hoped, but even as her damp fingers found mine, I knew that this was a new beginning, and I had to find my strength.

I will remember you, friend

2007-01-19T18:48:00.000Z

The year 2007 has started picking momentum, stories of the New Year’s Eve parties have been told and re-told and no one even remembers anything...or cares to, already the year has a faded appearance to it. There has not been that earth shattering moment of epiphany where I thought that the New Year would bring me clarity as to my purpose in life...New Year resolutions have passed into the dustbins of fading memory and the endless path of rut and apathy welcomes me to its brooding familiarity.

All this would have been par, 'cause I have this innate ability to ignore and recede into the shell that I call life, but for a very traumatic incident that affected the very core of my being in away nothing has...for a very long time.

Srinivasan Sreedharan joined our SQA team 9 months back. He was a CA turned ISO auditor and now he was a part of the SQA team. It took me some time to warm up to him and I kept my polite distance, but accorded him all the help required for him to feel comfortable. Over time I got to interact with him more and got to understand him better. Somehow I believed that he found me to be most comfortable within the team. I used to rib him a lot and tease him about a lot of stuff...but I was never critical of his work or his abilities to cope up with the paradigm shift in job profile. I mean from an ISO auditor for manufacturing companies to driving quality initiatives in a software organization is not very easy, especially if you come from a non computer background. Gradually he warmed up to me and we got to talking about where he came from and the kind of person he was. He always told me that this job was important to him and would put in extra effort to try and learn as much as was possible, this I guess was due to his understanding that though he may have been good at what he was doing earlier, this was entirely different, and though quality was not considered to be of paramount importance to our client, we had to do our part in the rigmarole that we were playing.

Anyways, last friday, the 12th of January, before we split for the weekend we went to the Irani cafe near our office and had a tea along with Meci - this was our usual practice. We talked for a while and as usual I teased him about a few stuffs including his driving skills and his inability to get angry...I mean there was nothing profound or anything, but it was all in a spirit of camaraderie. After finishing our smoke and paying up we bid goodbyes and happy weekend and pongals and left on our own separate ways, not knowing that, this was the last time I will be seeing him alive.

Sreedharan passed away due to a massive cardiac arrest early morning at around 5 am on monday the 15th.

It was all the more tragic 'cause according to his friends and himself, this was turning out to be the best phase of his career and life. He had been thru a lot in life. Sreedhar's demise was more than a shock, 'cause sometimes we don’t have words to express the feelings that go thru our mind. This particular incident was traumatic on the realization that, he has left behind him a wife and a mom-in-law who have no ways to fend for themselves. Sridhar was looking at doing something this year so that they will have a wonderful future ahead of them.

I remember him telling us about his plans and what all he planned to do this year so that he can give his wife and himself a decent future. He was just beginning to see the light at the end of a long dark tunnel and he was very happy now.

I remember him telling me about his married life and his sadness at not having a kid. He said that in his horoscope, it was mentioned that he would have a kid only in the 14th year of his marriage and this was his 14th year...and he was looking forward to it, though he kidded that when you have the energy and time you don’t have the money and now when life is really looking to be alright there is no energy.

I remember that he carried a snap of his wife in his purse...a black and white photo frayed at the edges, which I later came to know was the first time he saw of his wife. It dawned on me, how much he must be attached to his wife and it felt beautiful that in a world that has bastards like me there were beautiful people too. I felt happy for him...I felt really happy for him when I realized that with all the problems I had, it is funny how it seems minor when compared with somebody else's problem. It was funny how he got himself to confide some of these things to me. For the past few days, I cannot stop thinking about him and what a lousy stack of hand life had dealt him. He was not a bad person in any sense of the word...just that he didn’t get the right breaks. I feel so very sad and even now as I went thru his personal effects at work, I couldn't stop my eyes welling up.

It is ironic that the day before he passed away he had got a complete medical check up done and he was certified normal.

I don’t know if it is this incident, I realize now that life is neither beautiful...nor a bitch. It is easy deluding ourselves and say that life is beautiful and we should only look at the bright side and stuff like that. But what of those with no bright sides... or silver linings or light at the end of tunnels. Life may not be beautiful, but I consider myself lucky to be where I am now. I may not be the happiest, the wealthiest, the strongest, tallest, smartest and so on. But I am sure there are so many out there who would be wishing to be where I am now given a chance... so many of those with no dreams, no desires, no needs, except to sustain and survive...exist.

I have been incredibly lucky and it is upon me to do something more with my life, create a meaning to my existence. I believe that we have all got to do our part in the way we think right and in the manner we think right, everything else is left to chance. We are in control of only a miniscule percentage of our daily life....the rest is dependent on a lot of factors beyond our control, we can call it whatever name we want, destiny, fate, luck or even God's will, but at the end of the day you pick your cards from the stack that has already been dealt.

Srinivasan Sreedharan was just 42 years old...that’s way too young to die…way too young.

I will remember your shy smile, friend.

Formula 1

2006-12-29T18:01:00.000Z

The one thing I am looking forward to is the beginning of the 2007 Formula 1 season. The 2006 season was enthralling and will I am sure be remembered as the year Micheal Schumacher showed us what he is capable of, I mean in a good way. Personally, I feel that the last race of 2006 at Brazil was one of Micheal's best drives...even better than some of his drives to the top step of the podiums. Ferrari started only towards the middle of the season and after that it was just playing catch up to Renault. But to their credit Micheal and Ferrari gave us a thrilling season that was just marred by the engine failure that Micheal picked up...else Ferrari would have been a worthy champion at the end and Micheal could have signed off in style as an eight time world drivers champion. Well it doesn’t matter, cause Micheal will always remain an icon and the sport will have to wait a long time for another personality.

Some people say that Micheal cheated and his hunger to win meant stretching the boundary lines between fair play and cheating...but, it is this flawed Micheal that gave us a personality to root for...or against. I dont want to see F1 with dour and sour faced Alonso's definitely. I mean this Alonso guy is always bitching and moaning when he doesn’t complete a race or somebody else finishes ahead of him, blaming everyone from his fellow racing drivers, to his team mate to his team. When have you seen Micheal or for that matter Kimi Raikkonnen (another driver I admire hugely) do that. I mean if anybody had to whine and complain, it had to be Raikkonnen. For the past few years McLaren has been giving him crappy cars that either dont have the pace or if they have the pace, they dont have the distance on them. After the engine expired or there was a mechanical fault, what did Raikkonnen do...he just went and downed a few vodka's.

No doubt that Alonso is a good racer, but he cannot be great yet...let us see how he does in the McLaren now and if the 2007 McLaren is as temperamental as it was over the past few years, Alonso would have to work really hard to even get to the chequered flag. Great drivers are those help in developing the car and create a driving machine that is consistent over a long period of time. That is what Micheal did with Ferrari, when he moved form Benetton to Ferrari, the latter were at an all time low and had not won a championship in over two decades. Micheal and the team worked on it for over four years till they became champions and that purple streak lasted for the next five years. Deservedly Micheal can be hailed a champion or a great F1 driver. These days the word 'great' is being bandied about too much, it doesn’t hold any meaning anymore.

I always though Kimi to be a better driver than Alonso, purely on the speed Kimi achieves and the relentless manner in which he attacks each lap. Formula 1 is at the apex of technological innovations and is at the forefront of motor racing. Here the man and the machine is supposed to be pushing at the boundaries of capabilities. This may bring with it the uncertainties associated with racing that includes expiring engines and aerodynamical failures...but that is the price one pays for pushing technology to the limits and beyond. That is the most exciting part of a Formula 1 race...so when too much emphasis is placed on winning races and championships, there is a natural tendency to be conservative. Kimi I believe is a true racer in which he pushes himself and the machine to the ultimate point...and there lies the true essence of motor racing. 2007 season will be a strange with no Schumacher around anymore, but I hope Kimi in his red Ferrari destroys Alonso in his McLaren and restore Ferrari to where they belong and puts Alonso where he belongs.

Let the racing begin.

Seeking heaven...

2006-12-22T06:52:00.000Z

The year 2006 draws to a close and along with it comes the dawn of another year. Not that the passing of an year holds any more significance than waking up to another day... 'cause personally I dont give a damn about these passing milestones that people around me keep tom-tomming about. I mean ya, we might go out 'n kinda get drunk and ogle at other women, talk about how crappy the job scene is, bitch about a few people who aren’t around us and hog on the food that is served...I mean more or less we do the things that we generally do when we hang out with others. We maintain a semblance of political correctness depending on the crowd we are with...but no big deal.

I didn’t want to write about what 2006 meant to me or if 2007 is going to bring me nirvana...'cause am sure, life will still be as beautiful as it was till now and I will still try 'n be myself...which means I will remain the bastard I am. I just wish I could muster up enough energy and drive to concentrate on my writings.

Lemme just try and jot down a few lines about some of the sports personalities of 2006. In the world of sports, there have been a lot of sporting icons, who defined and epitomised greatness by their single minded devotion to enhancing the craft with which they identified themselves. These are those greats who have stood the test of time, competition, fame and everything that today’s world of hype and hyperbole bestowed on them. In today’s competitive world, where sporting excellence is accompanied by commercial interests...these few people have strode over their individual sporting arenas as colossus who wrote their own scripts and left in their wakes pretenders - amongst whom you would find highly skilled practitioners, but who remain just that practitioners and pretenders.

Michael Schumacher. Tiger Woods. Roger Federer. Shane Warne. Ian Thorpe

These are few gentlemen who lit up their areas of sports and tread a new path and became master practitioners of their chosen areas of specialization. These men sought boundaries and horizons and plundered through, breaking traditions, records and hearts of other mere mortals who tried in vain to keep pace with them.

Tennis is elevated to the stature of a Rembrandt painting, when you see Roger Federer execute a near impossible forehand cross court that finds the spot just an inch from the baseline, a Tiger Woods put that traverses a curvaceous path towards the hole or Schumacher’s deftness and control of a machine taken to the limits of its capabilities. When sports is taken to a realm of artistic brilliance, they illuminate a path that till then was not visible to other exponents.

These few men tread to a different tune…a different drummers beat, that rang only in the recesses of their minds where they fought against…not their fellow competitors, but against themselves...against the limits of excellence. Seeking heaven, seeking perfection.

As Richard Bach wrote, heaven is not a place Jonathan…heaven is perfection.

Encounter

2006-12-22T06:20:00.001Z

We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.

And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.

That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Nor the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.

O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.

Czeslaw Milosz (b. 1911)
Translated from the Polish by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee

Variations

2006-12-22T06:20:00.000Z

El remanso de aire

The still waters of the air

bajo la rama del eco.

under the bough of the echo.

El remanso del agua

The still waters of the water

bajo fronda de luceros

under a frond of stars.

El remanso de tu boca

The still waters of your mouth

bajo espesura de besos.

under a thicket of kisses.

Federico García Lorca (1899-1936)
Translated from the Spanish by Lysander Kemp

...this sadness will last forever

2006-12-08T05:18:00.000Z

Sometimes we come across something...that touches you and makes you feel really thankful for being alive.

One of this was the song 'Vincent' sung by Don McLlean as a tribute to Vincent Van Gogh. I happened on this ong very late in my life and was introduced to it by a very dear friend of mine. We were enjoying a smoke and a tea at his house after having dug into one of the most delectable of chicken curries that I have savoured. Was feeling bloated at the middle and the general air was of a python who lies immobile after having devoured a small deer...we call it hoggage. Well, as we sucked in the nicotine, Meci started humming the strains of a delightfully tragic song that I was coming across for the first time. It sounded so melancholic that I wanted it immediately. I guess he had a feeling that I would like it too..well that is another story.

It took me about one more week after that night to download it from the net, though I managed to get the lyrics the very next day. Vincent was one of the most haunting, sad and melancholic song I have heard in a long while. But it is not all that depressing either. In his lyrics, McLean references Van Gogh's different paintings to understate the lonliness that Van Gogh felt in his time as he and his paintings were not understood during his lifetime. It was while in an asylum that Van Gogh painted 'Starry nights' a series of paintings, which McLean uses as a start to the song. The following lines are so beautiful that it haunts you, as you try to make sense of what Vang Gogh must've gone thru before he decided to end it all,

Now I understandwhat you tried to say to me

and how you suffered for your sanity

and how you tried to set them free

they would not listen they did not know how

perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you

but still your love was true

and when no hope was left inside

on that starry starry night

You took your life as lover's often do

But I could have told you,Vincent

this world was never meant for

one as beautiful as you

At the age of 37 in a fit of depression he shot himself and died with so much sadness in him. He is supposed to have done over a thousand paintings and drawings in his ten years as an artist with most of his best works been produced in his last two years of life. His last words were said to be "...this sadness will last forever"

Vincent - Don McLean

Starry starry night

Paint your palet blue and grey look out on a summer's day

with eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills

Sketch the trees and the daffodiles

catch the breeze and the winter chills

in colours on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
what you tried to say to me
and how you suffered for your sanity
and how you tried to set them free
they would not listen they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze
reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
colours changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand
what you tried to say to me
and how you suffered for your sanity
and how you tried to set them free
they would not listen they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
but still your love was true
and when no hope was left inside
on that starry starry night
You took your life as lover's often do
But I could have told you,Vincent
this world was never meant forone as beautiful as you

Starry starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
framless heads on nameless walls
with eyes that watch the world and can't forget
like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
a silver thorn a bloody rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
now I think I know
what you tried to say to me and how you suffered for your sanity
and how you tried to set them free
they would now listen they're not listening still

Perhaps they never will

To strive, to seek, to find...

2006-11-29T10:46:00.000Z

ANOTHER languid day at work. These are becoming the norm and am sure its going to be like this for a few more months to come, until we move to our new engagement.

Lethargy is infectious and it kinda transmutes itself to whatever you are doing and one tends to somnambulate thru the waking hours. Compounded with a crazy sleep routine and general sense of lethargy, existence has become rather monotonous.

Not that the days dont have their enjoyable moments, there are plenty, but there is something missing and it comes from the knowledge that there is much to get done. I am sure I can raise myself out from this rut and make a meaningful contribution...but why do anything about it now, when I can do it tomorrow...when I can do it another day.

Procastinate.

There is so much I want to write about and so many ideas keep flitting about within the empty recesses of my restless and yet strangely dormant mind...but, where is the energy? Henry David Thoreau wrote,

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.

I wanted to live deep, and suck out all the marrow of life.

To put to rout all, that was not life, and not,

when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.

I have not reached there yet and discover I have...that living I am not.

Someday soon, I will have to get up and look up at the sun - with sunglasses on, of course - and ask myself...what is it that I am looking for, where do I want to go and what do I want. I am sure, I shall embark on this lonely road of such deep introspection soon...maybe not tomorrow...maybe like...someday, and then like Tennyson I shall exhort,

'Tis not too late to seek a newer world

for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset.

And though we are not now that strength, which in old days

Moved earth and heaven;

that which we are, we are;--

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate,

but strong in will.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

On the Mahatma, Bhagat Singh and changing priorities

2006-11-17T05:48:00.000Z

I was just reading a post on Mahatma Gandhi and Bhagat Singh and wondered...

Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it - Santayana

Most of us in our generation at large and the previous generation to a certain extent did not really know the importance of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi and how he managed to bring in the unity that was necessary to form a more cohesive struggle for Independence. Prior to his arrival, the freedom struggles were localised and didnt create that much of an impact. That said, it didnt mean that we didnt have capable leaders, but I believe that none of them had the ability to make the struggle a common cause and spread the idea of a united India to wider regions. The greatness of Mahatma Gandhi was not in his writings nor in how he lived his life on a daily basis, but in his principles and his methods of the struggle that were emulated by millions in the country and brought about probably one of the first non-violent crusades that was sucessful. He managed to bring in almost all of our leaders under a common fold and lead the fight for Indepences as one single unit. There are detractors who point out to the differening relationship he shared with Jinnah and Nehru, but that was more due to individual frialities and aspirations of these two men rather than Gandhi.

Bhagat Singh was another great intellectual revolutionary who also - if you read him properly - didnt believe in violent methods. The bomb throwing was not meant to harm anyone, but more of a brave protest. People these days categorise Mahatma Gandhi and Bhagat in extremes, but the truth of the matter was that both of them had ideals and were more intellectually inclined and their visions of a future India were not built on roads of blood and hate. In fact contrary to the stories that form the basis of todays elitists discussions, where talking about Independence struggles is a badge of intellectual acuity, Mahatma Gandhi and Bhagat Singh had mutual respect for each other and thier approaches were not very different.

Today it becomes easier for us to sit in the comforts of the security provided to us as free citizens of this world and criticize and deride the contributions of our freedom fighters and blame them for the ills of our present day world. In the safety of knowing that we didnt have to do anything, we ride rough shod over their sacrifices and berate them for having been responsible for everything that is wrong with our country now not understanding that these half baked coffee table and bar room discussions are based on ill informed and intellectually deficient arguments. I mean even if you look at the second half of the last century, how many statesmen did we have other than Nehru. The elitist ten percent in todays India that includes almost 95 percent of our media may declare the sad old bag Vajpayee as a greater visionary than Nehru - the same media who proclaims the present day occupant of the Rashtrapathi Bhavan as India's best President - but that is a sad reflection of our changing priorities where the divide between the have and have-nots are widening and the media is using and being used to cater to the elite. Look at the problems we face as a nation..poverty, primary healthcare and education, problems associated with basic necessities and more. But where in the media do you see anything about these issues.

We had so many people involved in bringing the idea of a free nation to frutition, frome where we could built a place in the sun we could call ourselves. Indeed, we are a sadder generation who refuse to try and learn about one of the greatest Independence struggles in the history of man.

The Departed

2006-11-15T17:01:00.000Z

Its been a long while since I wrote anything as I have been relatively busy with a lot of things occupying time. Not that I havent been going on with life, but sometimes you need that lil extra urge to write, and I didnt find it..the times I did... those couldnt be sustained.

Anyways, I need to start once again and I may do so over the next few days...but lemme not go too far. If there is anything written it will be here :)

I saw a few good movies over the past one month, in fact the past three weeks I saw around 10 movies, which is kinda close to the numbers I was used to, before I got married. I dont blame marriage alone...but I have started realizing that there is so lil time we have with us after we are thru with being a dutiful husband, work, social commitments, friends and other obligations, that I wonder if I will ever have sometime to myself. These days, I am stretching my time and it results in me sleeping for only about five hours or less a day...but am not complaining. I have also started reading a bit which is very good too..so on the whole, I should say I am having it neat..

Well, about the movies,

The Departed
A really powerful movie and one of the best movies I have seen so far this year. This is the Martin Scorcese that we have grown up on. It has been said that this is his last movie on the underworld, is so, I must say it he has signed out on a high.

Mob rules Boston. Mob boss is Castello and he has a mole in the Police Department, who is supplying him information about police movements. The Police put a mole within the mob and he works to get information about Castello's nefarious activities. Both the parties realize that they have a rat among themselves and then it is a race to fish him out. There is a love angle too that doesnt seem out of place the way Scorcese has weaved it into the basic strand. This is just the basic strand. Scorcese makes it a complex psychological cat and mouse game with plot twists. The denouement is viscereal, startling and tragic for everyone involved.

Di Caprio, who I have always thought to be a very good actor, turns in one of his best performances as the good cop who infilterates the mob. Mat Damon is equally good as the bad cop and Jack Nicholson is at his best at the ruthless mob boss. Then there is mark Walberg who is at his ascerbic best. He has litle screen time compared to the three main leads but each of the scenes he is in is a delight.

The acting is top nautch, the atmosphere and the pacing is taut and background score is perfect without being obstrusive. The Departed is cops and robbers at its best. A must watch if you love movies.

I shall be writing a bit of my thoughts about Don and Jaaneman in my next post. I was pleasently surprised by both the movies.

Woh Lamhe - Watch it

2006-10-13T06:47:00.000Z

If there is one reason to watch Mohit Suri's 'Woh Lamhe', it has to be Kangana Raut's performance as a schizophrenic actress caught in between wanting to be loved and disease eating away all vestiges of reality.

The movie from the Mahesh Bhatt stables is a poignant love story, which is supposed to be based on Mahesh Bhatt's affair with sultry screen siren on yesteryears, Parveen Babi. Irrespective of how fact and fiction was merged, Woh Lamhe is a neat movie that captures in very emphatic fashion how schizophrenia eats away at the very core of your being destroying everything that you once held dear and leaving you with nothing but memories of a life lived.

Kangana plays the role of Sana, which at first seems to be an extension of her role in Gangster, but soon one realises that something is not right and, it is to the actors credit that she manages to evoke the hallucinatory aspects of her illness without compromising on what she actually is as a person...someone lonely at the height of her fame. Everyone she knows has used her to further their own gains and even Shiney Ahuja who plays Agarwal, an aspiring director, also wants to use her popularity and fame for the very same reasons. But somewhere along the way he develops feelings for her and the rest of the story is devoted to how she is being destroyed by psychosis and how he stays by her side.

There are many poignant and touching moments especially during the second half where Agarwal is forced to kidnap her, in the hope that she can be cured. The way he looks with sad longing at her even when she accuses him of plotting to kill her or when with tears streaming down his eyes he eats a piece of cake to show to her that it is not poisoned drives home his sheer desperation of not being able to hold on longer to a losing battle.

As with most Mahesh Bhatt movies of recent times, there is a lushness to the movie which is exemplified by beautiful cinematography and very good music. The songs also manage to complement the emotions being portrayed...be it hurt, longing or gay abandon. Acting by the two lead players are very good, with Kangana's role the meatier of the two. All other actors are extraneous to the basic plot of the movie and one has the feeling that not too many hours were spent in trying to develop them. This is because the director is intent only on telling the story of these two people, which, though has its shortcomings is not too distracting, as we are caught up with what is happening to Sana and Agarwal.

Woh Lamhe is one of the better movies that I saw this season...

Lage Raho Munnabhai

2006-10-12T05:37:00.000Z

Its been ages since I posted anything here, though I have been meaning to do it for quite some time...but have been caught up with the mundane and routine aspects of everyday life that, mustering energy enough to put words together was so much of an effort.

Over the last weekend I saw three good movies and each of them were good in their own rights. None of them were perfect and some had more flaws than one would want to mention...but nevertheless all the three movies made compelling watching to a certain extent.

Lage Raho Munnabhai

A follow up to the very good Munnabhai MBBS, Lage Raho Munnabhai proved to be an even better experience. It is a simplistic take on how we have forgotten the ideals of Mahatma Gandhi... or "Akka india ka bapu" as Circuit puts it. The movie exhorts us to believe in in his ideals and carry his teachings within us, rather than just naming roads or parks in his name, or putting up Mahatma Gandhi's statue in every other street corner. The antics of the chief protagonists will make you laugh out loud while remaining rooted, thus it becomes easy for us to feel a lump in our throats when it is trying to work at your lachrymal glands.

There is a small problem with pacing in the second half and while the storytelling is assured, you sense that there is a dip in the pace while the script tends to become slightly repetative. The movie ends witha small sermon by Mahatma Gandhi that could've been avoided as it seems redundant, especially since most of what he had to say was brought out during the course of the movie itself. Some might question the use of Mahatma Gandhi as a plot device, but I thought it worked perfectly to bring out the awakening of Munnabhai.

I am sure most of us who wants to see the movie have already seen it so I am not going to go into the plot. It deals with how Munnabhaia a local goon alongwith his sidekick, Circuit uses forgiveness and non violence to change the heart of an unscruplous land grabber. The movie is fun without being crass, easy on the eye, has nicely choreographed songs and very good acting by most of the lead actors. Sanjay Dutt, Arshad Warsi and Boman Irani play their characters effectively. On the acting front Vidya Balan dissappoints...somehow one fails to buy into her character and I suspect here it has more to do with the portrayal than the script. While in the earlier Munnabhai, Gracy Singh actually managed to make us believe in her character, here Vidya Balan doesnt get the nuances right and ends up being a little...elite.

Anyways, I thought this was a much better and more rounded movie than the first one, because while Munnabhai MBBS' primary aim was to tickle our funny bone, Lage Raho also was trying to be more meaningful and it succeeds. Mr Hirani, the director of this franchisee has succeeded in delivering a movie that can truly be enjoyed across age groups.

Doppelganger

2006-09-26T11:34:00.000Z

A wonderful palindromic poem composed by James A. Lindon...

Entering the lonely house with my wife
I saw him for the first time
Peering furtively from behind a bush --
Blackness that moved,
A shape amid the shadows,
A momentary glimpse of gleaming eyes
Revealed in the ragged moon.
A closer look (he seemed to turn) might have
Put him to flight forever --
I dared not
(For reasons that I failed to understand),
Though I knew I should act at once.
I puzzled over it, hiding alone,
Watching the woman as she neared the gate.
He came, and I saw him crouching
Night after night.

Night after night
He came, and I saw him crouching,
Watching the woman as she neared the gate.
I puzzled over it, hiding alone --
Though I knew I should act at once,
For reasons that I failed to understand
I dared not
Put him to flight forever.
A closer look (he seemed to turn) might have
Revealed in the ragged moon.
A momentary glimpse of gleaming eyes
A shape amid the shadows,
Blackness that moved.
Peering furtively from behind a bush,
I saw him for the first time,
Entering the lonely house with my wife.

Kabhi Alvida Na Kehana...

2006-08-25T07:03:00.000Z

Why has it become necessary for film makers to try to be different?
Why does everyone involved in a movie state emphatically and categorically that the movie that they are talking about is decidely different form all other movies?
What is wrong about formulaic movies if its serves its basic purpose, which is to entertain?

Karan Johar too, afflicted by this syndrome, has moved out from his terrain that peddled candyfloss entertainment that went on to become huge money spinners and tried to be 'hatke'. While KANK has everything that his earlier movies had...huge budget, opulance in every frame, extremely well choreographed songs, pleasent music and an editor who forgot his scissors, the subject in KANK veers and tries to tackle a very complex human condition - marital infidelity.

Some pyschologists say that man by nature is promiscous), but the latent heat in his loins have been tempered by an institution called marriage - which probably is the reason why man is one of the only animals that can copulate year round, unless he is suffering from a serious hangover. Karan Johar has added another possibility - true love. KANK is a three and a half hour long bum-numbing experience that explains to the audience that unless we marry the right person we will never be happy and this will result in a lot of pain and hurt and copious amounts of tears been shed.

I wont go into the details of the storyline, but the outline goes like this. Dev (Shah Rukh) is a failed soccer player who takes out his anger on his Riya, his wife (Preity Zinta) and kid. He is an insecure person and totally anti-social. Maya (Rani) is married to Rishi (Abhishek) and is bothered so much about their childless marriage that she treats him like a kid. She is so not into the marriage for reasons best known to her. Dev and Maya meet up and over the course of next two hours become lovers. If you look at who plays Dev and Maya, the movie follows its path to a standard bollywood climax. If you look at what bollywood movies dont tamper with generally - tradition and culture - KANK does an about face.

KANK has had extreme reviews, more so because of the hype associated with it. It is contrived and Karan Johar's tendency to mimic everything going wrong in one marriage with something similar going on in the other marriage is very contrived. There is no real reason as to why Maya strays from her marriage, since Rishi is certainly caring and tries his best to give her all his attention - which is much more than most guys usually do. The movie is long by over an hour and a half and Karan Johar has atendency to stretch everything that much more and the denouement has come and gone but it takes another 15 minutes for the credits to roll.The events also seem to be happening in a different universe as there is definetly a disconnect with reality. There is a lot to quibble at, but KANK is definetly not a bad film either as it does has it moments. Some good comic moments, especially with Amitabh who plays Rishi's dad and who is a philanderer to boot. He and Rishi share some good comic chemistry. Then there are the nicely choreographed and easy on the ears songs. The actors all perform their parts admirably. Shah Rukh Khan should be admired for taking on this negative character and it is to his credit that the audience ends up not liking Dev. Rani Mukherji is good. Preity's and Abhishek's roles could have been better written, but both have their moments.

KANK is your average bollywood movie and I am sure it will go on to become another money spinner for everyone involved. It may not be the definitive movie on marital discord and human relationships, but I have sat thru worse...

Corporate - A Review

2006-07-24T06:56:00.000Z

I have never liked Madhur Bhandarkar movies, coz they reek of pretensiousness and Corporate exemplifies everything that is wrong about his movies. Hackneyed and predictable plot combines with shoddy direction, bad acting and worst of all it is way too amateurish.

The director has gone on record to state his painstaking research into the coporate world and how this forms a part of his trilogy (? ) on what is wrong with the society. It shows the marked ignorance on the part of the director if he thinks that by interspersing the dialogues of his characters with words like 'disinvestment, PSU, CEO, stock markets and shares etc..he is making a movie that hopes to shed a light on the 'corporate' world. I am sure that even a person not interested in the affairs of big business and stock markets knows that what goes on within the confines of the boardrooms of these conglomerates, at least in a very peripheral manner.

The plot follows the wheelings-dealings of two rival corporate houses and how they try to outwith each other in the purchase of a PSU. The PSU in question is a bottling plant which the govt has decided to sell off. Wriggled into this strand is the incestous relationship between big business and the politicians and how both these groups are manipulated by each other and yet needs the other. This angle has been done to death in lots of movies and Corporate doesnt tread any new territory. The movie is predictable and after the premise is set, the movie plods along in an episodic manner. The director fails to invest depth to of the protagonists does not try to explain their motivations. There is a romantic angle also set in that goes nowhere.

The acting is also decidedly sub standard, though Rajat Kapur, Harsh Chaya and the guy playing the disinvestment minister does manage to rise above thier written parts. Bipasha basu is ill at ease and you never once take her seriously as she fails to understand her charcter of a top executive. K K Menon has a brief role as one of the senior VP's, but he comes into his own only towards the end when he has to decide between saving the company and sacrificing his lover.

It has become easier for film makers to wrap themselves within a cloak of a holier-than-thou attitude and then start explaining away the ills of the society by blaming too obvious targets...of whichthe politicians are the easiest bet. Madhur Bhandarkar has never been known to create gripping drama and based on his recent efforts, he doesnt seem capable enough to rise above a certain mediocre level he has attained. It is sad though, because he showed promise with his debut venture 'Chandni Bar'.

Irreversible - A Review

2006-07-17T05:47:00.000Z

'Time destroys everything'

Irreversible a french movie directed by Gasper Noe, featuring Vincent Cassel and Monica Belluci is very powerful and kind of disturbing at the same time.

Told in reverse chronology, the plot revolves around two men Marcus and Pierre who are out to revenge the brutal rape of Alex who is Marcus' girlfriend and Pierre's ex. Irreversible has gained fame for its 'style over substance' kind of movie making. The handheld camera movements are at times distracting but it is integral to the plot about time taking no prisoners and that life is not always '...and they lived happily ever after.' Though the movie ends on that very note...but we as viewers will know that there is more to come and that the peaceful idyll is going to be shattered soon.

What makes Irreversible stand out is the the graphic violence. There are two scenes that epitomizes them. The first one is a protracted rape sequence that plays on for around 8 to 9 minutes. I have never scene a sequence that brings out the brutality of rape in such stark detail. I am sure the director intended to send a message about the viciousness of the act itself, but was it necessary to have it extended like this, I wonder.

The second sequence occurs in a gay bar where a charcter has his face beaten to a pulp with the aid of a fire extinguisher. This is in-your-face movie making at its most graphic. Though the violence is gut renching, you are caught up as if in a trance. I dont know or havent seen any movie that lays bare acts of human violations in such manner.

Acting plays second here to the directors style...and I thought that Vincent Cassel was slightly irritating. Monica Belluci has been the subject of most male fantasies (though I admit she is not one of my favorite), but here I think she did a wonderful job of acting especially in the above mentioned scene.

Watching the movie requires a certain kind of fortitude. Irreversible though not top of the line cinema, it is captivating to say the least.

Dreams don’t die…nor do they retreat

2006-07-12T12:00:00.000Z

I wrote this on the spur of the moment for someone who needed a lil cheering up..not that I claim to be good at it..but I was happy with my five minutes of frantic keyboard hitting :)

Dreams don’t die…nor do they retreat
They await the chance for you to wake up and make it real
The beauty of your dreams will always be coloured by the person you are, and
To confuse dreams with reality is what we dreamers do
This makes the world a better place to be in, and
Reminds us that…the world is not as bad as we thought it is

Believe in the dreams that you dreamt of
Seek out those lil moments of joy
Reach out for the piece of magic, that
Lie dormant in the very core of your being, coz
The foibles of our youth, often does lead
To painting our landscape with colours so true

Wise men say, among a lot of other truism,
True pleasure lie in desire not satiety
But what is desire if not seeking satiation,
What is life without an impossible dream

The hills have eyes - a review

2006-07-12T07:11:00.000Z

I was never a big fan of horror/gore genre of movies, though I wouldnt mind watching it on a bleak day with nothing else on the landscape and I have seen quite a few of those. Of late I have been introduced to a variety of these movies - more on these subsequently.

I had read about the Wes Craven version of the same movie, but didnt get a chance or the inclination to see the same . One thing to be said of Alexandre Aja's version is the sleekness that has creapt into what were previously referred to as B-Grade slasher/horror/gore flicks. For the afficionados of these movies there are a few 'boo' moments thrown in initially, but the movie progresses from that to typical 'gore' territory. The director seems comfortable and able in handling this transition and overall the movie is a better venture to the genre.

The premise is kept very simple and doesnt meander too much into charcterisation and there is no plot exposition as such. A family gets stranded in the middle of the desert (mobile phones dont work -necessary plot device in all movies of this ilk ) and then the killings start. The suspense is about who gets killed and how and it doesnt take too long for that to begin either. The middle segment has some nice bit of suspense, but the final third part is very predictable, but will entertain those who came expecting this kind of fare.

Two things that stand out are the background story incorporated on the ill effects of casual testing of nuclear devices, which resulted in the genetic mutation of the miners, turning them and their future generation into cannibals, and, the second is that normal human beings are no better than these savages themselves - when the need arises.

Though this might not be a definitive entry into this genre of flicks, The Hills Have Eyes will definetly satisfy those who came expecting what they want to see. Overall there is a polish to this product that you dont (or at least I) normally associate with horror/gore movies.

On books

2006-06-22T09:22:00.000Z

On the topic of books...

Recently one of my friends asked me if I have a top 10 must read books and that got me thinking..is there really a top 10 or 100? Can we really have something like that?

As we grow, we tend to assimilate a lot from the environment we are in as also our experiences, thus there is a constant flux within ourselves and despite not wanting to..we are changing, so what we liked probably 10 years ago may not necesarily be that interesting now....books are like flavours of the month...difficult to have fav books...then there are the categories too..besides the broader classification of fiction and non-fiction...

Along the way I have read quite a few books, but offhand i wouldnt be able to name many as 'must read' though..some of the books that have stayed with me and I would like to go back to are,

Dostoevesky's 'Brothers Karamazov' and 'Crime and Punishment'- I read these the first time probably during my school days..but the second and third reading proved to be more compelling

Marquez's '100 years of Solitude' - It was only towards the end I realised how much I really liked the crazy and quirky inhabitants of Macondo and Marquez's writing. This book propelled me to more of Marquez's writings including 'Love in the time of cholera', 'The Genral in his Labyrinth', 'Chronicles of a death foretold'

Le Carre's 'The Man who came in from the cold' - A wonderful book that created a beautiful imagery in my head about the cold, dark and dreary lives of those espionage agents...I never read another Le Carre book, though I saw 'The tailor of Panama' and found it highly enjoyable

Dicken's 'Oliver Twist' - Though its melodramatic...it is nostalgia here...:)

James Michener's 'The Drifters' - This may seem kinda dated, but the time I read it I was easily influenced..not by the hedonistic pursuits of the lead charcters..but how they travelled down that road...touches a lot of issues primarily anti-war

Penrose's 'Shadows of the Mind' and 'Emperor's new mind' - ( I thought Ramachandran's 'Phantoms of the Brain' would be a good read..but it was very disappointing...despite the reviews)

Jostein Gaarder's 'Sophie's World - This is an easy read into the world of western philosophy..right from the time of socrates to kant and sartre...this may not be a good novel..but it gave me a very good intro on western philosophy..

Nehru's 'Glimpses of World History' - Must read for anybody I gez..

A L Basham's 'Wonder that was India' - Another fav

Ayn Rand's 'Fountainhead' and 'Atlas Shrugged'...somehow i really liked Fountainhead when I read it the first time in 1996 in Trichy and read it in less than a week...while I found Atlas Shrugged even more interesting cz of the basic theme..

Umberto Eco's 'Name of the Rose' as well as 'Foucalts pendulam'..try it..take your time..it might take awhile to get into the former..but its worth it..

I am reading Barnaard's 'One Life' now, it is good, but I gez it has partly to do with the two lessons we had in our school days. Likewise, I read Braithwaite's 'To sir, with Love'..not great literature..but nostalgic

Recently I purchased two books from the US..in fact I got one of my colleagues there to buy it for me as it was not available here..David Ellis's 'The Company of Liars'..a really gud read..it is the story of the murder of a woman convicted of murdering her husband..but is told in reverse chronology..that is, it starts from where she gets killed..it is a 'compulsive page turner' as they say..the other one was Paul Hoffman's 'Archimedes Revenge', a wonderful book on mathematics..this is one you will love, Alan. I want to start on GEB, but am not getting the time..this past few weeks have been real busy...not in absolute terms..but somehow cant manage any time to do any reading..i manage the newspapers and magz and other light readings in the loo where i spent a considerable amount of time :)

Oh btw..Amartya Sen's 'argumentative indian' is a really gud collection of essays and I gez you shud read it..

is memory but a recreation?

2006-06-08T07:16:00.000Z

This is something I wrote sometime back, dont remember when though..mustve been during one of those times when I was 'high' and on an introspective journey. Didnt know if I should really put this in here..but then I figured it wont make any difference and moreover I have not been really posting anything here, copying and pasting from a notepad doesnt take too much of an effort :)

The following may have no basis on anything that transpired in my life..but then everything that I am is a product of my experiences..so in that sense it may also be connected with me and my life...read on...

meaningless routine 'n a balmy summer day
of countless cigerettes and dreams none
intimidating and imposing, she walks in
vulnerable, 'n with promises anew
a thought so close and a touch too far
hearts abeatin' for something more

walks in the rain, a friend in need
alleyways, autos, staircases and byways
'ladies coupe', 'ancient promises'
'brothers in arms', '18 till i die'
of spoken fantasies and unspoken cravings
lust and love or was it other way round?

jealosies spawn hurt and pain
silences and partings, a way of life
tears and laughter, mingled amidst
prohibited needs and dangerous wants
tearing apart a gift so pure, altruism
was thy just a myth?

break from the past 'n a new beginning
another life or was it the same?
passions anew, thirsting for more.
mouths grappled and fingers twirled
universe imploded, becoming one
did we just die, and come again?

is memory but a recreation?
of things past and and being alive
of scooter rides and car drives
late lunches and evening movies
lingering conversations and spontaneous laughter
phone calls and window shopping

beautiful fingers, twitching nose
hair like satin, smile bewitching
warm embraces, teasing glances
simple dreams, a beautiful song
secret longings and hidden passions
deep desires and love explored

its not poetry that i aspire for
its not consolation that i seek
its in the hearts of men to ponder
the vagaries of fate and misfortunes
to die a thousand deaths
in the light of sins committed

beauty defined and beauty lost
never before and never after
redemption shall i seek,
for tomorrows but are reflections
of guilt 'n sorrows of days passed
of mistakes sought and steps untaken

journey, into an unknown vortex
promises and desires, satiation sought
inadmissible truths and untold lies
lay across an ocean of hope
the search for truth, none remains
opague and blurred visions remain

This is sort of incomplete, I dont know why I didnt write anymore...probably dozed off :)

Anyways I dont have the energy to continue... someday probably when I revist this I might think of completing this..but then again, I may not either.

Laurie and Advance Sergeant Carl Harris - The case of Chamomile and Skylon 4

2006-04-04T08:51:00.000Z

This Hillllllaaaarrrrriooouussssss!!!!!! Be patient and read it completely!!!!

Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix.

The professor told his class one day "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY

(First paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(Second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted, wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty, the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semiliterate adolescent.

(Gary)
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of freaking TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air-headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)
A----le.

Phantom limbs and more...

2006-04-04T06:11:00.000Z

The Brain and the Mind...fascinating.

Everyday we go about our tasks without asking how and why we do the things we do...we worry about the speed and amount of memory our computers have. We ask if our computers can do certain tasks efficiently. We worry too much about the brands of computer that we need to buy..Lenovo..Compaq..Acer...but have we ever asked ourselves how the biggest computer of them all..the Human Brain, works? Have we ever tried to find out the intricacies and the complexities surrounding the nueral networks in our brain?

Recently I was reading a book by V S Ramachandran, 'Phantoms in the Brain' (based on reviews, I thought it will be a truly engaging book, but I was disullusioned) about phantom limbs and how our brains percieve pain and other sensations even on amputated parts of our body. There are people who have had thier hands amputated, but can still feel pain and other sensory perceptions on the hand and fingers that are no more there. The book by V S Ramachandran made me think and use the grey cells a lil on the mysteries of the working of our brain, which was a wonderful experience ( my train of thoughts..not the book ). Coincidentally the latest edition of Frontline featured an interview with him that piqued my interest in learning more about Ramachandran's works. I was browsing thru his site when I found a link about a new book called 'Curious Minds- How a child becomes a scientist' edited with an introduction byJohn Brockman. I need to get my hands on that one. Learn more about the contributers to the book.

By the way, V.S. RAMACHANDRAN is the Director of the Center for Brain and Cognition and professor with the Psychology Department and the Neurosciences Program at the University of California, San Diego, and Adjunct Professor of Biology at the Salk Institute. You can read his bio here.

Shelly...

2006-02-14T10:04:00.000Z

Degas, Are we not drawn onward, We freer few, Drawn onward To new eras aged?

Impossible drawings?

2006-02-02T07:12:00.000Z

Impossible Cylinder

Those familiar with MC Escher will have seen or heard about most of his 'impossible drawings'... these were 2D renderings of images that were virtually impossible to build on a 3D plane. It could be modelled and rendered on 3D, but can only be visualised on a 2d plane.

Garden Fence

Penrose Triangle

Escher Cube

Interstellar travel, the magnitude in perspective

2006-02-01T06:41:00.000Z

Have you ever wondered when we will be able to travel to distant stars as easily as in science fiction stories?

The Voyager spacecraft left the solar system at 37,000 miles per hour. At that speed, it would take Voyager 80,000 years to reach Proxima Centauri, the nearest star to us after the sun.

Why is interstellar travel so tough?

A Usual Day at Unusual School

2006-01-20T09:26:00.000Z

Sometimes we don't think we have enough information to solve a problem, but in reality we do. We can use logical analysis to pin down information which, although not explicitly stated, can be inferred from what we know. Students perform a play which takes place in a school where some of the students always lie and the rest always tell the truth. Terry, the protagonist, is trying to find out which students are which, but at the beginning, there is no way of knowing whom to believe.

Read the play

At first it seems like there is never enough information, but in each case, it is possible for Terry figure out more about the students that might have seemed possible.

Zeno's paradoxes, Hotel Infinity and more...

2006-01-20T09:15:00.000Z

Ever heard of Zeno's paradoxes?

Zeno's paradoxes are a set of paradoxes devised by Zeno of Elea to support a doctrine that "all is one" and that contrary to the evidence of our senses, the belief in plurality and change is mistaken, and in particular that motion is nothing but an illusion.

Several of Zeno's eight surviving paradoxes are essentially equivalent to one another; and most of them were regarded, even in ancient times, as very easy to refute. Three of the strongest and most famous—that of Achilles and the tortoise, the Dichotomy argument, and that of an arrow in flight have given rise to lots of theorists to prove and disprove....

When turn-of-the-century mathematician Georg Cantor approached the subject of infinity with mathematical rigor, he encountered many paradoxes.

At the Hotel Infinity, these paradoxes come to life. The paradox told as a humorous narrative, featuring a hotel owner and a building contractor based on the feuding 19th-century mathematicians Georg Cantor and Leopold Kronecker.

Hotel Infinity, No Vacancy

They are made out of meat

2006-01-18T09:26:00.000Z

A beautiful short story..check it out. This is supposed to be the most posted short story in internet history.

Read it here

Are we alone in the universe...are we..

helloooooooooo..anyone out there..

Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid

2006-01-18T09:02:00.000Z

I had read about this really wonderful book by Douglas R. Hofstadter 'Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid' or GEB as it is better known and have been trying to get hold of a copy. I asked a couple of my friends in the US but it didnt work out and it was not available in any of those bookshops that I asked. The other day as I was browsing thru a bookshop - as I usually do - I saw this book sitting there waiting for me and I had no hesitation in purchasing it.

I wouldnt want to go into what this book is all about, but it is a work on physics, mathematics, philosophy, artificial intelligence, computing, genetics and more (I got this from the preface of the latest edition). I am sure this is not an easy book as it deals with a lot (abstract stuff and philosophies that I may not be able to comprehend at first reading)..but am sure it is definetly worthy of the time I am going to spent on it, I am sure.

Each chapter begins with a dialogue between imaginary characters. This I guess makes it easier for lay readers like myself to get acquainted with the book before delving deeper into finding the real meaning of what the author is trying to postulate.

Here below is an imaginary conversation between a tortoise and Achilles. [It will make more sense if you can imagine pointing a camera to a TV screen and the image is displayed on the screen as a never ending system of TV screens that fall into itself... :) hehe now you are more confused than where you were]

Crab Canon by Douglas Hofstadter

Achilles and the Tortoise happen upon each other in the park one day while strolling.

TORTOISE: Good day, Mr. A.
ACHILLES: Why, same to you.
TORTOISE: So nice to run into you.
ACHILLES: That echoes my thoughts.
TORTOISE: And it's a perfect day for a walk. I think I'll be walking home soon.
ACHILLES: Oh really? I guess there's nothing better for you than walking.
TORTOISE: Incidentally, you're looking in very fine fettle these days, I must say.
ACHILLES: Thank you very much.
TORTOISE: Not at all. Here, care for one of my cigars?
ACHILLES: Oh, you are such a philistine. In this area, the Dutch contributions are of markedly inferior taste, don't you think?
TORTOISE: I disagree, in this case. But speaking of taste, I finally saw that Crab Canon by your favorite artist, M. C. Escher, in a gallery the other day, and I fully appreciate the beauty and ingenuity with which he made one single theme mesh with itself going both backwards and forwards. But I am afraid that I will always feel Bach is superior to Escher.
ACHILLES: I don't know. But one thing for certain is that I don't worry about arguments of taste. De gustibus non est disputandum.
TORTOISE: Tell me, what's it like to be your age? Is it true that one has no worries at all?
ACHILLES: To be precise, one has no frets.
TORTOISE: Oh, well, it's all the same to me.
ACHILLES: Fiddle. It makes a big difference, you know.
TORTOISE: Say, don't you play the guitar?
ACHILLES: That's my friend. He often plays, the fool. But I myself wouldn't touch a guitar with a ten-foot pole!

(Suddenly, the Crab, appearing from out of nowhere, wanders up excitedly, pointing to a rather prominent black eye.)

CRAB: Hallo! Hulloo! What's up? What's new? You see this bump, this lump? Given to me by a grump. Ho! And on such a fine day. You see, I was just idly loafing about the park when up lumbers this giant fellow from Warsaw — a colossal bear of a man — playing a lute. He was three meters tall, if I'm a day. I mosey on up to the chap, reach skyward and manage to tap him on the knee, saying, "Pardon me, sir, but you are Pole-luting our park with your mazurkas." But WOW! he had no sense of humor — not a bit, not a wit — and POW! — he lets loose and belts me one, smack in the eye! Were it in my nature, I would crab up a storm, but in the time-honored tradition of my species, I backed off. After all, when we walk forwards, we move backwards. It's in our genes, you know, turning round and round. That reminds me — I've always wondered, "Which came first — the Crab, or the Gene?" That is to say, "Which came last — the Gene or the Crab?" I'm always turning things round and round, you know. It's in our genes, after all. When we walk backwards, we move forwards. Ah me, oh my! I must lope along on my merry way — so off I go on such a fine day. Sing "ho!" for the life of a Crab! TATA! ¡Olé!

(And he disappears as suddenly as he arrived.)

TORTOISE: That's my good friend. He often plays the fool. But I myself wouldn't touch a ten-foot Pole with a guitar!
ACHILLES: Say, don't you play the guitar?
TORTOISE: Fiddle. It makes a big difference, you know.
ACHILLES: Oh, well, it's all the same to me.
TORTOISE: To be precise, one has no frets.
ACHILLES: Tell me, what's it like to be your age? Is it true that one has no worries at all?
TORTOISE: I don't know, but one thing for certain is that I don't worry about arguments of taste. Disputandum non est de gustibus.
ACHILLES: I disagree, in this case. But speaking of taste, I finally heard that Crab Canon by your favorite composer, J.S. Bach, in a concert the other day, and I fully appreciate the beauty and ingenuity with which he made one single theme mesh with itself going both backwards and forwards. But I'm afraid I will always feel Escher is superior to Bach.
TORTOISE: Oh, you are such a philistine. In this area, the Dutch contributions are of markedly inferior taste, don't you think?
ACHILLES: Not at all. Here, care for one of my cigars?
TORTOISE: Thank you very much.
ACHILLES: Incidentally, you're looking in very fine fettle these days, I must say.
TORTOISE: Oh really? I guess there's nothing better for you than walking.
ACHILLES: And it's a perfect day for a walk. I think I'll be walking home soon.
TORTOISE: That echoes my thoughs.
ACHILLES: So nice to run into you.
TORTOISE: Why, same to you.
ACHILLES: Good day, Mr. T.

The Format War is On

2006-01-16T06:51:00.000Z

HD-DVD versus Blu-Ray.

Microsoft and Intel besides a few others versur Sony and most of the Hollywood studios.

Xbox 360 versus PlayStation 3.

Last week the Microsoft-backed underdog, HD-DVD, landed a few blows on its rival Blu-ray, which had looked the favourite, backed by Sony and most of the Hollywood studios. First Microsoft announced it would offer an HD-DVD drive for the Xbox 360. Then Toshiba America said it would ship its first two HD-DVD players in March at $499 and $799. By contrast, the first Blu-ray player, a Pioneer Elite model, is expected this summer at $1 800, along with a Samsung player at about $1 000.

HD-DVD suddenly looks within the reach of most HDTV owners, and Blu-ray doesn't.

There's more.

Blu-ray drives are expensive, and Merrill Lynch Japan has projected this will lead to Sony losing ¥30-billion in the first year of the PS3's release. And if Microsoft cuts the price of its Xbox 360 console when the PS3 appears, this could bring "an additional loss of ¥80-billion in its second year and ¥50-billion in its third year," according to Gamespot.

The battle to decide the next-generation disc is about technological breakthroughs and consumer benefits, of course. But it's also about vast money streams from sales of players, PCs, consoles and phones, the content that makes them useful, plus all the royalties and patent fees. Companies are going to fight for those, even if consumers suffer.The difference here, though, is that we can ignore the fight -- and stick with our DVDs. That won't hurt Bill Gates. But it will hurt Sony.

Read the complete article here

Covergence and Smartphone

2006-01-13T07:13:00.000Z

This is one SMART phone...Palm Treo 700w Smartphone, runs on Windows Mobile 5.0 software. No wonder Bill Gates uses it :)

Read on for a more detailed review of this smart lil gadget which finally got rivals Palm and Microsoft to converge.

If it is good enough for the Gates...
The trio of Palm, Microsoft and Verizon have created a winner in the Treo Smartphone.
Review by Peter Lewis, FORTUNE senior editor

Of reading, music and...

2006-01-12T06:56:00.000Z

These days the reading habit has almost come down to nothing more than just a few pages a day. I dont really know the reason but I gez it must be the routine that has set in and somehow am too tired to do any real reading. I have a few books that I am looking to enjoy...among them are Tolkein's 'Hobbit' and 'Lord of the Rings' as well as Umberto Eco's 'Name of the Rose' as well as 'Foucalt's Pendulum'. The only real time I get to read is when am in the confines of the loo and then it is usually the newspapers or some magazines.

My life has taken on a new meaning now and I am worried I might get caught in an existence that borders on routine...I need to do something about it. I also need to inculcate some kind of discipline wherein I should be able to give time to what I really want to be doing and even I know that there is so much that I have to sort out..dont we all.

These past few months music has taken on a new meaning in my life and I am constantly listening to different kinds of them. I kinda got re-introduced to reggae, country, trance, radio edits and the like. Its a whole new world out there. I have taken a fancy to various mixes and currently my fav is DJ Tiesto - Live at Duplex Prague 2005. Did Carl Cox and some Steve Lawler the other day..it was a trip.

More later..

CNet 2005 Tech Car Winner is...

2006-01-12T06:14:00.000Z

For those inclined to the latest in cars, the 2005 Acura RL wins CNET's first annual Tech Car of the Year award. To read more click here .

These days cars come up with the latest in technologies and offer almost the same comfort that you get in a plushed up living room or maybe more..

The other 10 tech car nominees were,
2005 Audi A4 Avant
2006 Audi S4
2006 BMW 330i
2006 BMW 750Li
2005 Cadillac CTS
2006 Infiniti M35x
2005 Land Rover LR3 HSE
2006 Lexus RX 400h
2006 Mercedes-Benz E350

I guess even I should be looking at owning one of the above. Though the sensex is on a bull run, the economy in my realm is looking really pathetic, so probably I will look out for one of those run down second or third hand Maruti 800 :)

Time...Speed...Distance

2006-01-11T09:12:00.000Z

Time slowed down..considerably.

You could feel it...the music was taking you to places where only your mind could conjure. I felt I was falling down...accelerating till I could take it no more. I waited for the impact...that never came. I realised that if there was no obstruction I could keep falling till eternity and a day more. Falling had no meaning. The definition of direction altered, coz if you are travelling towards eternity at a high speed..the direction doesnt matter coz you keep on travelling.

It suddenly leapt to my mind why we are afraid of falling. It has nothing to do with the act of falling..it was scary only in the realisation that soon that fall is going to end and it could be painful or it could be an end to life as I know it. I wondered if i was travelling up towards the sky at the same speed I would be falling to the ground..I wouldnt be scared of the impact and it will be an exhilirating ride until I realise that my ride now is not going to end in any conventional way I know..but it could go on forever...cz the immensity of our known universe is so far beyond our comprehension and it could be a long while before I go crash into some piece of rock or any of those objects that populate our universe.

Which is more scary..knowing that u r life is going to end as u hurtle down towards earth at increasing speeds or the probability that you will keep on travelling forvever in which ever direction you choose without any end in sight.

My eyes opened to the fact that at high speeds and if you are not stopped, direction and time hold no meaning. There will not be forward and backward..no up or down...no yesterdays and no tomorrows.

I know this might sound crazy and it should to anybody who is sane...but then I never claimed to be sane :)

Ok, here it goes..am taking this even further.

What is time?

What is speed?

Wouldnt time slow down if we grow bigger. When I mean bigger, I dont mean just a few feet or a few meters..I mean really huge. Lets say we keep growing till we are almost as tall as..the earth. Wouldnt then the concept of minutes and hours have changed. I mean now we are as big as the earth and now we can feel or see the earth rotating and revolving [We are that huge. I gather the earth is spinning at very high speeds now and we cant see it or feel it directly. We see it reflected in 'day and night' and 'seasons' or other indicators]. Now dont you think we will measure time on a different scale...and if the basic unit now is seconds, dont you think we will change our unit. To illustrate it in our minds we need to mark a point of reference, so here lets suggest that one second is our point of reference..but at very high speeds and at very large time frame our units change. Simply put..we measure very large distance in light years. Similarly I just figured or thought about it last evening and wondered that all that we know now is based on our limited understanding and that also holds for basic units like time, speed and distance. But we dont know whats out there. When we look at an insect or study a bacteria with an electron microscope and wonder how short thier life span is, we are using our knowledge as a point of reference. But is it inconcievable that we may be that self same bacteria and some life form that is so huge is studying us now...and is it inconcievable that what we consider a full life of 100 years may be just an instant in thier universe.

Can we be absolutely certain that we are not living under controlled conditions in some tissue culture lab...

Isnt time and speed and distance relative to what we know...

Sometimes I can go really crazy up there..but then arent we all in our own crazy worlds..:)

Movie Quotes...

2006-01-10T06:15:00.000Z

--------------------

Harry Callahan: I know what you're thinking. Did he fire six shots or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I've kinda lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya punk?

--------DIRTY HARRY--------

Col. Nathan Jessup: "Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because, deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand at post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to."

-----------A FEW GOOD MEN-----------

Wanda: To call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people! I've known sheep who could outwit you. I've worn dresses with higher IQs, but you think you're an intellectual, don't you, ape? Otto: Apes don't read philosophy. Wanda: Yes they do, Otto, they just don't understand it!

----------A FISH CALLED WANDA-----------

Vinny Gambini: I'm here to collect.

J.T.: How 'bout I just kick your ass.

Vinny Gambini: Oh a counter offer. That's what we lawyers, I'm a lawyer... we call that a counter offer. This is a tough decision you give me here. Get my ass kicked or collect two hundred dollars. I could use a good ass-kickin', I'll be perfectly honest with you... no I think I'll just go with the two hundred.

J.T.: Over my dead body.

Vinny Gambini: You like to renegotiate as you go along. Well here's my counter offer... do I have to kill you? What if I were just to kick the ever loving shit out of you?

J.T.: In your dreams.

Vinny Gambini: Oh no no... in reality. If I kick the shit out of you, do I get the money?
------------MY COUSIN VINNY------------

Lisa: Imagine you're a deer. You're prancing around. You get thirsty. You spot a little brook. You put your little deer lips down to the clear water - BAM! A fuckin' bullet rips off part of your head! Your brains are lying on the ground in little bloody pieces. Now I ask you, do you give a fuck what kind of pants the son-of-a-bitch who shot you was wearing?!
-----------MY COUSIN VINNY-------------

John Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse." That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

-----------DEAD POETS SOCIETY-----------

Harry: I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle in your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

------------WHEN HARRY MET SALLY-----------

Jess: Marriages don't break up on account of infidelity. It's just a symptom that something else is wrong.

Harry: Oh really? Well, that "symptom" is f***ing my wife.
------------WHEN HARRY MET SALLY------------

Leonardo da Vinci: You cannot leave everything to Fate, boy. She's got a lot to do. Sometimes you must give her a hand

-------------------------
Things will happen in your life that you can't stop. But that's no reason to shut out the world.

-------------------------
My Dearest Allie.

I couldn't sleep last night because I know that it's over between us. I'm not bitter any more, because I know that what we had was real. And if in some distant place in the future we see each other in our new lives, I'll smile at you with joy and remember how we spent the summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love. The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever. I love you. I'll be seeing you.

Noah
I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.
Summer romances begin for all kinds of reasons, but when all is said and done, they have one thing in common. They're shooting stars, a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, fleeting glimpse of eternity, and in a flash they're gone.

-------------THE NOTEBOOK-------------

Temper's the one thing you can't get rid of, by losing it

-------------------------
Austin - "Oh, there you are."

Stranger - "Do I know you?"

Austin - "No, but you're there!"

-------------AUSTIN POWERS------------

[Noticing Dr. Evil's spaceship on radar] Radar Operator: Colonel, you better have a look at this radar.

Colonel: What is it, son?

Radar Operator: I don't know, sir, but it looks like a giant--

Jet Pilot: Dick! Dick, take a look out of starboard.

Co-Pilot: Oh my God, it looks like a huge--

Bird-Watching Woman: Pecker!

Bird-Watching Man: [raising binoculars] Where?

Bird-Watching Woman: Over there. What sort of bird is that? Oh goodness, it's not a bird, it's--

Army Sergeant: Privates! We have reports of an Unidentified Flying Object. It has a long, smooth shaft, complete with--

Baseball Umpire: Two balls! [looking up from game] What is that? It looks just like an enormous--

Colonel: Johnson!

Radar Operator: Yes, sir?

Colonel: Get on the horn to British Intelligence and let them know about this.
Woman: Oh my god, look at that! It looks just like my husband's--

Carnival Worker: ONE-EYED MONSTER! Come see the One-eyed Monster!

One Eyed Monster: Oh my god, it's a giant--

Chinese Teacher: Wang! pay attention!

Wang: Sorry, sir I was distracted by that giant flying--

Fan: Woody! Woody Harrelson! Could I have your autograph?

-------------AUSTIN POWERS--------------

Austin Powers: [About her skintight clothes.] How do you get into those pants?

Felicity Shagwell: Well you can start by buying me a drink.
Felicity Shagwell: Felicity Shagwell. Shagwell by name, shag-very-well by reputation.

-------------AUSTIN POWERS---------------

Ivana: Do you know how we keep warm in Russia?

Austin: I can guess, baby.

Ivana: We play chess. Austin: I guessed wrong.

-------------AUSTIN POWERS--------------

Number Two: Dr. Evil, wouldn't it be easier to use your knowledge of the future to play the stock market? We could literally make trillions!

Dr. Evil: Why make trillions when we could make... billions?

-------------AUSTIN POWERS--------------

President: C'mon, let me nuke that bastard.

Commander Gilmour: You want to blow up the moon?

President: Would you really miss it that much?

-----------AUSTIN POWERS------------

Alotta Fagina: In Japan, men come first and women come second.

Austin: Or sometimes not at all.

--------------AUSTIN POWERS--------------

Rick Blaine: Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

--------------CASABLANCA-------------

Maggie Rice: When they ask me what I liked best, I'll say it was you.

---------------------------
Topper Harley: These men have a supreme vow of celibacy, like their fathers, and their fathers before them...

--------------HOT SHOTS-------------

Tess: You're a thief and a liar.

Danny: I only lied about being a thief, and I don't do that anymore.

Tess: Steal?

Danny: Lie.

-----------------------------------------------OCEAN'S ELEVEN------------------------------------------------

True pleasure..

2006-01-10T06:02:00.000Z

True pleasure lies in desire, not satiety

Guess who is coming to Dinner?

2006-01-05T13:20:00.000Z

This is a wonderful piece of monologue from 'Guess whose coming to dinner'. It's a movie about interracial romance, which is a bit on the melodramatic side starring Spencer Tracy, Katherine Hepburn and Sidney Poitier. Here Spencer Tracy's character is telling Sidney Poitier why he is not against his daughter marrying a coloured person. This movie created a sensation when it was first released in the turbulent times when racism was a searing and burning issue in the land of opportunities. Sidney Poitier was very good... Read on and enjoy...

"Now Mr. Prentice, clearly a most reasonable man, says he has no wish to offend me but wants to know if I'm some kind of a *nut*. And Mrs. Prentice says that like her husband I'm a burned-out old shell of a man who cannot even remember what it's like to love a woman the way her son loves my daughter. And strange as it seems, that's the first statement made to me all day with which I am prepared to take issue... cause I think you're wrong, you're as wrong as you can be. I admit that I hadn't considered it, hadn't even thought about it, but I know exactly how he feels about her and there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you son feels for my daughter that I didn't feel for Christina. Old- yes. Burned-out- certainly, but I can tell you the memories are still there- clear, intact, indestructible, and they'll be there if I live to be 110. Where John made his mistake I think was in attaching so much importance to what her mother and I might think... because in the final analysis it doesn't matter a damn what we think. The only thing that matters is what they feel, and how much they feel, for each other. And if it's half of what we felt- that's everything. As for you two and the problems you're going to have, they seem almost unimaginable, but you'll have no problem with me, and I think when Christina and I and your mother have some time to work on him you'll have no problem with your father, John. But you do know, I'm sure you know, what you're up against. There'll be 100 million people right here in this country who will be shocked and offended and appalled and the two of you will just have to ride that out, maybe every day for the rest of your lives. You could try to ignore those people, or you could feel sorry for them and for their prejudice and their bigotry and their blind hatred and stupid fears, but where necessary you'll just have to cling tight to each other and say "screw all those people"! Anybody could make a case, a hell of a good case, against your getting married. The arguments are so obvious that nobody has to make them. But you're two wonderful people who happened to fall in love and happened to have a pigmentation problem, and I think that now, no matter what kind of a case some bastard could make against your getting married, there would be only one thing worse, and that would be if - knowing what you two are and knowing what you two have and knowing what you two feel- you didn't get married. Well, Tillie, when the hell are we gonna get some dinner?"

Where is God's perfection?

2006-01-05T13:13:00.000Z

[Just beautiful..read this for the first time about 5 years ago and it still reads...if you know what I mean]

Thought For Life In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school devoted to teaching disabled children

Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main-streamed into conventional schools.

At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection? The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child."

He then told the following story about his son Shaya:

One afternoon, Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short centre field. In the bottom of the eight inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base. Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's team-mates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first." Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled.

By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the rightfielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the Third baseman's head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, Shaya run home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."

Funny how the lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but the public discussion of morality is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Funny how I can be more worried about what other people think of me than what I think of me.

The Prophet - On Love

2006-01-05T13:09:00.000Z

[An extract from Khalil Gibran's 'The Prophet']

Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

What if all of this is a dream?

2006-01-05T12:47:00.000Z

"I'm afraid I've got more in common with who I was than who I am becoming."

On a very abstract and real sense dont you think we can identify with the quote given below.

"Once I, Chuang Tzu, dreamed I was a butterfly and was happy as a butterfly. I was conscious that I was quite pleased with myself, but I did not know that I was Tzu. Suddenly I awoke, and there was I, visibly Tzu. I do not know whether it was Tzu dreaming that he was a butterfly or the butterfly dreaming that he was Tzu."

Chuang Tzu

What if all of this is a dream.

What if we are in a 'Matrix' programmed to be alive and feel the senses...does it make any difference?

Another quote that makes sense and kind of takes of from the above,

"The permanent temptation of life is to confuse dreams with reality.

The permanent defeat of life is when dreams are surrendered to reality"

So what if we are dreaming, does it make living any more different. But isnt it true that we have all in many ways surrendered to the reality of existence and become conformists.

Why does conformism have a negative connotation? Is conformism necessarily bad?

But then right from our formative years we are exhorted, cajoled and pushed to conform to existing rules of societal living. We are lead to look up at and idolize the very path that pushes us to stop being individualistic. We talk about individualism and freedom and liberty and dreams. But when is it we stop that pursuit?

Or is individualism just the pursuit of the very few...

I , myself am struck here in a rut...but why do I not feel that?

I wonder...

I just carry hope in my heart

2006-01-05T11:44:00.000Z

Anything I say is my opinion and true for me. That doesn't mean it's true for anyone else. I only bother saying what I say because it gives other a chance to observe their own reaction to my opinion. It doesn'tmatter whether they agree with me or not. Truth is only absolute forthe individual.

The answer, maybe, is going out and doing rather than waiting. If you wait, life will probably pass you by. But if you go out and do the things you want to, take the risks you fear, you may just find that everything slots into place.

All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us onthe basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible.

WilliamFaulkner

Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.

Louisa May Alcott

For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long toreturn.

Leonard da Vinci

I am not an optimist, because I am not sure that everything ends well.
Nor am I a pessimist, because I am not sure that everything ends badly.
I just carry hope in my heart.
Hope is the feeling that life and work have a meaning. You either have it or you don't, regardless of the state of the world that surrounds you.
Life without hope is an empty, boring, and useless life. I cannot imagine that I could strive for something if I did not carry hope in me.
I am thankful to God for this gift. It is as big as life itself.
Vaclav Havel

Mysteries unexplained - I

2006-01-05T09:22:00.000Z

Easter Island
Not only is it one of the most isolated places on Earth - it also has hundreds of spectacular and mysterious stone statues that guard over it. Read on

Nazca Lines
Huge geometric patterns and spirals, animal figures and thousands of perfectly straight lines that go on for kilometres. The Nazca lines - one of the most baffling enigmas of archeology. Read on

Great Pyramid of Giza
A total of over 2,300,000 blocks of limestone and granite were used in its construction with the average block weighing 2.5 tons and none weighing less than 2 tons. The large blocks used in the ceiling of the King's Chamber weigh as much as 9 tons. Read on

Kailasa Temple
The Kailasa temple is an illustration of one of those rare occasions when men's minds, hearts, and hands work in unison towards the consummation of a supreme ideal. Read on

The links given are just meant to build on your curiosity and you could probably use the Internet to know more...

Happy reading..

Mysteries unexplained - Stonehenge

2006-01-05T09:04:00.000Z

Ever wondered about the mysteries from the past. Though we have a fair understanding about them now, there is still so much unexplained. I have tried to jot down a few here and if you are interested you could pursue them at your lesiure...

Consisting of 162 stones and is 35 paces across, Stonehenge is one of the most famous and mysterious ruins in the world today. It has fascinated scientists and us and after hundreds of years of theories and research, scientists believe that Stonehenge was built for both astrological and ceremonial purposes over a period of more than five hundred years. But is it..how do we know? Read on...

Stonehenge: unearthing a mystery

Stonehenge I and II

Mystery of Stonehenge points to the heavens

How much ever study is done, one cannnot at least now ever know the true purposes behind the building of these massive stone structures. It will remain as one of those unexplained mysteries at least for some more time..thus giving it the aura it so deserves, having stood for over 5000 years standing vigil to so many changes that happened around it...

Movie reviews - Check out Reelviews

2006-01-05T07:30:00.000Z

James Berardinelli is one of the best reviewer of movies that I have come across. He hosts a non-commercial site and though I may not agree with some of his opinion, I find him to be articulate and very well informed on american as well as world cinema.

For those interested in good in-depth reviews you can check him out at,
http://movie-reviews.colossus.net/main0.html

Since he is an independent reviewer, he doesnt have to tow the lines of those syndicated reviewers whose views can/could be influenced by big studios when they plug their latest movies at special screenings followed by sumptous and lavish cocktails...and as we all know invoking bacchus and going bacchanalian usually doesnt add upto unbiased criticism. I dont hold that anybody is unbiased. I believe that each one of us is always biased in our opinions and views. We are always influenced by a lot of concious and subconcious stimuli...but a truly good writer should be able to present his case in a logical and articulate manner.

Oh, of course Mr. Berardinelli also doesnt think a certain Tom Cruise is going to be oscar worthy material, ever...one more reason why I like him ;)

I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to death your right to say it - Voltaire

Wonderful movies..

2006-01-02T06:23:00.000Z

So another year goes by. It seems that the days are passing by faster..or probably thats just a perception when caught up in the midst of a work routine that doesnt allow you the sensibility or the sensitivity to see each day for what it is and make the most of the moment.

I really watched some good movies over the past one year..on DVD's mostly and I was trying to catch up on some of those movies that I had wanted to and couldnt as India and Hyderabad in particular is not a place where one can actually cater to ones desire of watching those international movies.

Here goes a compilation of some of the better movies that I watched and the movies that I would recommend if anyone is interested... I will keep adding on to the list as I remember them.

1. Memento
2. Requiem for a Dream
3. Me and You and Everyone we know
4. 40 year old virgin
5. Batman Begins
6. Dead Again
7. Rashomon
8. 2046
9. In the mood for love
10. Citizen Kane
11. King Kong
12. Solaris

There were two beautiful malayalam movies that I liked Blessy's Mammooty starrer "Kazhcha" a haunting tale of love and loss set in the idyllic and water logged kuttanadu in central Kerala. Then there was the adaptation of Tennessee Williams play 'The Glass Menangeri', 'Akele' by Shyamaprasad. Geethu Mohandas' performance as the autistic protagonist was arguably one of the best peformance by a female artist in 2005 in any indian language cinema.

I am trying to get hold of the uncut version of Kenneth Branagh's 'Hamlet'. The DVD has not yet come out, so i gez I will have to settle for the VCD, if I can get my hand on one ;)

Two other movies that I want to watch are Steven Spielberg's Munich and the Stephen Gaghan's Syriana...

Bangalore and Bangalooru...

2005-12-23T08:32:00.000Z

This was written by Nikhil N R (who incidentally is my brother) in response to an article stating why the name Bangalore shouldn't be changed to Bengalooru as it would affect our perception in the western world. A couple of paragraphs have been added by me to illustrate why we are debating on a non-issue

What is in a name? Bangalore or Bangalooru, its all the same. I do not think that a change in name is going to affect the way businesses run or the way people live. You and I, will be going to our offices, like we always used to, eat, drink and enjoy as we used to. Now is it that Bangalooru is less fashionable or for that matter less westernized that it affects us from being what we are. Bangalore has been popular for its cosmopolitan lifestyle. But I dont see why Bangalooru will change this.

Or, to the other side of it, is Bangalooru going to save the city, bring us more business, have better roads than Bangalore, have something basic like drinking water for the less fortunate, education for the less privileged? Is it the mantra for Utopia?

Bottom line, whatever name you call it, you belong to the same place and change only depends on our deeds as Citizens of the city and not on the name.

The state government is the elected representative of the people of the state. They, represent you and the remaining six million. OK, numerically if we look at it, we may say that the government represents the views of only 22% of the denizens of Bangalore.* The government that is installed is the peoples choice but at 51% polling we are looking at only half the population. Though, no statistical evidence is available, I have observed that the people who throw brick bats at the government are those who may not have voted at all.

Now, 51% of the population took it upon themselves and felt the need to participate proactively for choosing their policy makers for the next five years using the constitutional authority entrusted to them. You and I, may or may not be there in the 51% block. But my individual voice cannot be considered as the voice of the citizens. The voice of the Citizens is what comes out from the government elected by the Citizens.

Having spent most of my childhood in Bangalore, I never considered myself as a Bangalorean. When I left Bangalore, I had fond memories of the place I was born, and was always proud to have been from Bangalore. However, as time flew by and as I gathered worldly wisdom; I began to be critical about Bangalore. I wouldnt be worried about the 1000 flyovers not crisscrossing Bangalore's airspace or the Moorthys or Premjis fleeing the city in the name of infrastructure. If not here, somewhere, they will make money and contribute to the GDP of our country, which is good enough. I would rather be worried about the people who are being sidelined.

Yes, it can be argued that renaming cities and towns by our elected representatives is more political in nature. Re-naming Bombay to Mumbai, or Madras to Chennai has not added or diminished the value that these particular cities had. Old timers may still refer to these cities by their old names, but businesses continue..life goes on.

We, of the Information Technology age, will hardly raise our voice either way, because for us it hardly matters. We are not socially deprived of our basic needs. We have our shopping malls and multiplexes, our McDonalds and KFC's. We complain of bad road conditions and government's inaction. We blame our elected representatives - though it hardly matter that we didnt cast our ballots when we had a chance to - for corruption at all levels. Yet, do we as individuals do anything about it. We raise our voice in protest against the atrocities committed in the name of upholding our cultural values, but we do not fail to pander to anything that is western. We have subconciously started believeing in the 'American Dream'. So we find the upwardly mobile, elite who have fallen for the 'India Shining' campaign looking at non-issues, seeking out their 15 minutes. For them re-naming a city is the biggest problem facing India. Not for them issues like poverty, infant mortality, and lack of basic provisions like drinking water, clothing and shelter for over 40 percent of the country's population.

In conclusion, a true Bangalorean should not be too worried about the name by which his town is being called. He should be worried about what the officials would be able to do for the less privileged who have been side lined in the past 10 years or so. I rather suggest that we should unite to address the issue of Human Development, of schooling for our children, of clean drinking water for everyone, of medical attention for the poor and for the 100 reasons for which we are called social beings. So let's join our hands and raise our voice for the people of Bangalore than for a non-issue.

Society and Me

2005-12-22T09:18:00.001Z

The other day TV channels beamed images of police enforcing their rule of law in a manner that brought viewers to exclaim in protest. Moral policing, in any areas of societal living, is a highly debatable issue, but what happened in the city of Meerut in the state of UP was highly deplorable. Couples were routinely rounded up by these so called enforcers of the law and beaten up on the premise of immoral trafficking. In this day and time when the judiciary works under the tenet of 'innocent until proven guilty', what happened has to be condemned and stringent action should be taken against the perpetrators of these dastardly acts.

This event led me to thinking about how passive we have become and how much we have accepted because we are afraid to raise our voice in protest against the inequities of a society that has become highly right winged.

Why is it becoming increasingly difficult to swallow moral policing by the people who have taken upon themselves to preserve and safe guard culture and heritage?

Since when has groups of various shades and political convictions taken upon themselves to enforce their brand of cultural imperialism on the citizens of a free state?

There are so many examples of these impositions, be it vandalization of movie halls and commercial establishments, physical and emotional injury on respected people of the community, tarnishing respectability of media and public celebrities. It didn't start with Arundati Roy nor is it going to end with 'Operation Majnu' but it is a perfidious assault by a society that is becoming highly insular in its thoughts and increasingly myopic in its visions in an age that is supposed to be becoming more open and liberal. Political parties across the spectrum is becoming highly manipulative and using the latent communal divide to gain vote bank. We as a society are in danger of being subsumed by our own inertia at owning up to our weaknesses and our inability to raise up in protest to seek or ask for the freedom that we deserve. It is a right...but thru years of inaction and passive acceptance, we have have become impotent to seek freedom of thoughts and expression. In a global world where the driving force is greed there has developed a highly incestuous relationship between the policy makers and the corporate machinery to further enhance their hold on a highly commoditized population, it has become difficult to look at things in black or white..right or wrong. In a society where PPP is the only indicator of a successful economy...we have become inert to the basic wrongs that we see in front of us or read about in the papers. If there is protest, it is highly localised and ineffective and there is a marked lack of focus on pushing it thru.

Protests in its basic form is frowned upon by an elitist society..but lest not close our eyes to what is happening around the world and learn. In developed welfare states workers rise up in protest to fight for their rights..be it in Europe or in North America or even in countries like South Korea. During trade summits and WTO meets there are protests that show that we as individuals in a group can create a difference. But are we ready to take it upon ourselves to protest and raise a combined voice.

Societal living demands equal opportunity for all of us and a highly developed egalitarian society demands peaceful co-existence between various thoughts, opinions beliefs. But there is work to do and we hold it within ourselves individually to contribute to make this piece of rock that we were fortunate to inherit a better place.

For those of you who are interested, the two police officers who were involved in the inhuman behaviour in Meerut were suspended pending enquiry for taking the 'rule of law to an extreme'

Where are we going..