26 December 2009

Maugham said, "...that's why I couldn't read PostColonial Drama so much!"

errm... well, Maugham did NOT say that. Not even close. But he actually did say something which is a significant part of this blorticle. If not the most vital part if it, certainly the definitive moment of the piece. But I get ahead of myself. Let me start with a story about a kid. An average schoolkid who still has left in her/him, all the illusory promises of greatness that the future promises to offer. Being the ever enthusiastic participant in every inter-school competition, (s)he ends up winning one. A debate, quiz or poetry recitation; does not matter. Our objective is that (s)he wins a gift-certificate of, say, one hundred rupees to some bookstore. It does not matter if it is a traditional piles of books on top of books kind of store or the new places where you have to cross a sea of CDs/DVDs/accessories/crockery/chocolates/perfumes/PC games/PSP games/PS1,2,3 games/toys-stuffed and otherwise, to finally reach some of the good books. Either place would work for our story.

The child decides, out of sheer boredom and overexposure, the (s)he would not buy anything else but some books. Perhaps it is a selfrighteous fit of overenthusiasm, a bout of sincere inclination towards knowing more of "literature" or even a simple curiosity of the unknown (read: parental pressure to do something that they never did). Anywhichway, this kid, whose age I have forgotten to mention (is about twelve, by the way), steps into the books section. Let us skip to the point of the story; Too many options described in an aloof/borderline funny way, a lot of derision towards self-help and biographies, a moment of self-indulgent ogling at the awesomeness of the comics section and a little more venom spat towards self-help books later, we are at the drama section, where our little friend (if you snigger, you shall die a death by reading self-help) has stopped. Why has (s)he decided to have a look at this section is a different blorticle; whose essence I am giving out in the next line for the certain uncertainty of never getting down to write it. It could be because (s)he felt the inner, natural pull towards the most ancient form of worship, or it could be the natural spidey-smarts that alerted the kid that shorter than a novel, simpler than poetry; a play is all that you could read in minutes ninety. I don't know. But ya, either way, there (s)he stands, looking, staring, judging at playwrights from Aeschylus to me (boink! wishful-thinking, redalert!). Read closely folks, for this is the point of the piece. (S)he invariably buys a simple-Shakespeare edition and goes back home, living happily ever after. Well, at least until that second divorce and that bizarre double murder-suicide. But that is not part of our story. Our story has ended. Get out. Go out and play in the rain. If you read the previous line, you did not listen to the one before that and so I can say whatever which you will not pay the slightest attention to... Okay, I cannot understand what I am saying but let me quickly put down in bullet form, what I intend you to infer from the above story.

  • There is a general, often unnoticed trend in the pricing of the books which "encourage" us, from a very young age, towards buying books which are touted to be "them, Classics". For a hundred bucks, there are only 'n' number of books that you may buy, particularly when you are not willing to shell out extra cash. And despite a revision of gift-certificate values in mid-range city schools makes a real and present representation; it ain't my battle and I shall stick to the pricing.
  • Let's face it, Shakespeare will always be cheaper than Beckett or Ngugi. And let us not even GO to Pinter or Shaffer. As a writer, you are saved as long as you are being taught as a part of a syllabus; thanks to some friendly neighborhood professor-assissted publication which makes some of the books relatively affordable. GOD FORBID, if you are a standalone, popular enough to be shunned by the academics and not popular enough to be blessed with a paperback edition. You are doomed to be one of those names that are oft-mentioned but never read.
  • Playwrights who are affected most by this tendancy, are the postcolonial ones. Sometimes I wonder, is this a way by which the Empire prevents us from striking back? It is as if one of those Harv-grad business execs got up and said, "Here's a good strategy to keep these dissenting voices under a tab. Let us sign them all on good figure deals, no matter how good/bad they are and overprice their books, so that nobody would ever read them!" Who am I kidding? Those kids cannot even say dissenting. But somebody's doing something which makes certain books more/less accessible than the others, aren't they?
  • Before I go on about it, let me drop another term, most probably self-invented, the indeterminacy of Classicability factor. Simpler put, it is the who/what decides a book to be a Classic, a.k.a, must-read. It is almost like a transitive verb (all students of Franco-German languages, gimme a hell yeah!), but only it is not. Who says, that despite from being the same age, Sean O'Casey should be more expensive than Shaw or Strindberg's Dream Play alone should be unavailable online in translation when all his other plays are non-dime-a-dozen (if you are not counting the internet/current/initial investment of purchasing a computer charge). Does that mean, that these books (plays, in this context) are so revolutionary that THEY are doing everything to prevent us from even getting hold of a copy? So, to conclude in the same fashion of my previous paragraph, somebody must be doing this, who are they?
  • Okay, lemme ground myself back-to-reality (Peace! 2 Eminem), and accept facts. Fact is, newer IS dearer. Given that the authors are not dead yet in a more literal plane, it makes it that much tougher to bring out low-price editions. Between royalty and copyrights, most works seal their fates. And works by themselves are non-living things which only accomplish, or try-to, the intentions of the author behind the book. Fact of the matter is, (all those waiting for the moment of a piece where I make a preposterous accusation, this is it!) AUTHORS DO NOT WANT TO TAKE A CUT IN THEIR PAYCHECK.

Face it, they might pretend to care about the third-world-ness of the third-world, they might cry you a river or lie down in front of a steamrolling roadroller charging at 5 kmph in a rainforest (oddly, almost often near the release of their next books) or even pay in obscene number of dollars to get that, oh-so-unfashionable! look befitting an author who fights for the CAUSE! But bottomline is, they have bills to pay, possibly a bit more than what you and I have to and acquired tastes, be it caviar or cocaine, is the hardest to kick and dearest in the world too. That is why dead authors make more benevolent souls.

And that is why Maugham's words come back to me, for its startling inaccuracy. "Writers write, not because they want to; but because they must!" Bollocks to you my Maughaman! They write, because they MUST BE PAID! Remember, I am not your usual geek who remembers quotes, so there is a source besides the source. Couple of days ago, I read a piece by my favorite author, Paulo Coelho where he adds his own third line to Maugham (everybody's after this guy to add another line, poor dude!), saying, "because they want to be read!" Coelho walks the talk and puts up, get ready to do the double take, PIRATED E-VERSIONS of his OWN WORKS! He started this way back in the early nineties, putting up the Russian version of The Alchemist on a fan's request and has gone on to put up books in any language where he is not bound by a contract to do so. This shockingly self-defeatist attitude which seems to be a sure way to bury one's self has, au contraire, helped the writer. He has sold in millions and is still counting.

What all could be achieved if only a creator wills to put the creation ahead of her/himself, has no bounds! It is a fact that most, if not all, writers have a "day-job" which contributes to their writing not insignificantly. By making their works available to the world, writers guarantee a wider reach of audience without necessarily putting themselves in a corner, eating the I-am-not-getting-paid-for-this pie. Time is money, and the more interesting your work is, the more money you make, without imposing a toll on the audience for experiencing your work. What more, other fields would also benefit from such a policy. Already, the principle has been verified with in the movie-business in the days of P2P sharing. Have we not, in the past three years, seen more Global-grossers than before, when the audience were "protected"? With a little innovation from the creators, movies would simply become two different realms; one, where good stories are told with non-existent budgets and the other, which would be a pure spectacle industry; both extremely successful!

But I get ahead of myself, again! Let me start the change, by being the change. Henceforth, all my works shall be considered public domain. Do not let the current absence of a publisher make you take me lightly. I am considered to be a man of my word; more or less. To read any of my works, simply write to me at thesaruaon23@gmail.com. I shall soon upload a detailed catalogue of my completed works, few though they maybe. So, until then, think, write and be cool!

22 December 2009

வேட்டைக்காரன் (2009)

வணக்கம் தலைவா!

இன்னைக்கு நாம பேச போரது நான் பாத்த படத்தை பத்தி தான். எம்.ஜி.ஆர் நடிச்ச படமில்லை, நம்ம 'இளயதளபதி' விஜய் நடிச்சு வெளி வ்ந்திருக்கே அது. நான் கல்கத்தால இருக்கறத இப்பொதான் ரொம்ப உணரமுடியுது. நிச்சயமா விஜய் படதுக்கெல்லாம் தீயேட்டர் போய் பாப்பேன்னு நெனைக்கலை... என்ன கொடும சரவணன் இது! வோகே! சொந்த கதை சோக கதையெல்லாம் வாணாம். படம் எப்படி இருக்கு?

சர்ப்ரைசிங்க்லி, நல்லா ஜாலியா தான் போச்சு. மக்களே, நீங்க் கோப படும் முன்பு, சற்று பொருமையுடன் பழசை நெனச்சு பாருங்க! அழுகிய தமிழ் மகன், அப்புறம் குருவி, பொரவு வில்லுன்னு ரெம்ப நாளாவே விஜய்-ய வச்சி காமெடி பன்னிடிருக்காங்க... சொ, இந்த படங்கள மனசுல வச்சி அந்தோ பரிதாபம்ன்னு நாம நம்மளை நெனச்சு தீயேட்டர் சென்றால், பரவால்ல-ன்னு சொல்ல வச்சிருக்கும் விஜய் குழுவுக்கு, ஹாட்ஸ் ஆஃப்.

எவ்ளோ காஸு வாங்கின தலைவா-ன்னு நீங்க கேட்கும் குறல் என் காதில் படுகிறது மக்களே! நான் உங்களை ஏமாற்ற மாட்டேன்! மேட்டரை கேளுங்கோ! விஜய், இன்னும் காலேஜ் ஸ்டுடண்ட். அது கூடவே அவரு ஆட்டோ ஓட்டுரார். மூனு ரீலுக்கு மட்டும் கூட ஒரு ஃபிகரையும் ஓட்டுரார். சரி, அவரோட மொடிவேஷன் என்னன்னு பாருங்க, he wants to be a cop! யாரு மாதிரி? Like this other cop he's got a great crush on. இப்படி ஆரம்பிச்சு, படம் எங்கங்கோ போகுது. அப்புரம், குவார்டர் ஃபைனல்ஸ், செமி ஃபைனல்ஸ், அண்ட் ஃபைனல்ஸ்-ன்னு ஒரு ஒரு வில்லனா தீர்து கட்டுரார் விஜய். கொஞ்ச காலமா English படதிலிருந்து காபி அடிச்ச விஜய்-க்கு போர் அடிதுவிட்டது போலும். திரும, பட்ஷா, தில், தூள்-ன்னு அவருக்கு செட் ஆன ஃபார்முலாவுக்கு இந்த படம் ஒரு revisitation!!!

21 December 2009

FFRicket!

Yes folks! Thanx to my last big breakthrough idea for sports-entertainment being stolen by (albeit pre-datedly) the beach cricket boys from Australia, I am back with another mindblowing (okay, maybe not so much) innovation that could take cricket to a whole 'nutha fricking level! Move over Twenty20, this is fricking fast forward cricket or... Wait for it, FFRicket! (exclamation mark is a part of the trademark.) Let me briefly explain the rules of the game.


The pitch is an equilateral triangle with a batsman in each corner.

The team with the most runs with loss of least wickets wins the match.

The bowling side is given a maximum of ninety minutes to bowl their twenty overs. If they fail to complete their 20 within time, then a punitive extra minutes will be added to the team playing second. If the team bowling second makes such an offence, the extra time will grant the batting side bonus runs calculated according to their current run rate. There will be a break of five minutes after every session.

Twenty-overs a side; a ball is counted as one successful delivery. No extras counted.

Umpiring is computerized.

The members of the bowling side are all over the field. Opening bowler bowls to one of the batsmen.

The batsman’s object is to run to the next position of the triangle without getting out.

One run is calculated when all three batsmen cross the starting point. Traditional sixes/fours allowed.

The fielder on stopping the ball can either choose to bowl to any of the three batsmen, or pass it on to another fielder (which is not considered as a bowled ball) who will bowl.

There should be a gap of 3 seconds minimum and 6 seconds maximum between two consecutive balls.

Wickets are taken by, catches, run-outs, bowled, stumpings, lbw (pitch in line, impact in line).

The bowler's runup is minimum 3 yards to maximum 15 yards. The ball should reach the batsman in under one bounce. On a second bounce, the batsmen can run one point and cannot be runout.

Only one batsman can be out during one delivery. When a wicket falls, a gap of 30 seconds is allowed, exceeding which, he is declared out.

The batsman can turn to the face the bowler in whichever manner; i.e., left-handed, right-handed.

Since one run is completed only when all three batsmen cover all the three points of the triangle, there are no individual scores.

If a batsman gets runout after having cleared two points of the triangle, then the coverage of the two points will be disqualified. They start from point zero with the new batsman at the place. However, if a batsman gets out by any other manner, the new batsman can continue in the run.

A batsman can decide to retire for rest/substitution after having crossed 30 runs withe the given two partners. Such a rest/substitution to rest will deduct five runs.

A series contains of even number of matches with both teams starting innings equally.

Do let me knw what you think about this.!

14 December 2009

Step Up

I like dance movies. They have a sense of timeless enjoyment about them without cluttering up your space with any of the debatable ideological points. You don't really care about WHAT they are saying, as long as they are coherent with good bits of dancing. A story arc cannot be more predictable than in a dance movie, still it manages to entertain you. Step Up was all of this and what more, there were some really cliched, yet important facets of teenage life brought to one's attention without being too preachy. I enjoyed the movie, except for one logical flaw or just a huge bit of stuck-up-ness on the part of the story-tellers. This girl, Nora, takes Tyler for her dance partner as a REPLACEMENT for the REHEARSALS, but goes on to encourage hopes of him using that showcase performance as his audition. She goes to bite down her exboyfriend when he screws his best friend to get ahead with his career. When she turns around and does the same thing to Tyler, by saying that "he doesn't understand" after having the original guy back in his position, it kinda comes unstuck for me. We get really pissed with the kid Tyler when he decides to call it quits the first time but he puts in effort to make it happen the second time. But when Nora fucks things up with Tyler, and calls him back ONLY WHEN ANDREW CANNOT DANCE ANYMORE, WHY IN FRICKENS SHOULD THIS KID GO BACK AND APOLOGIZE AT THE END OF THE MOVIE??!?!?! Please, anyone, gimme a clue about this whole weird scenario. This infuriates me enough to wanna bang that girl's head through a door over and over again, particluarly for the oh-so-fake moment where she FORGIVES him?!?! Maybe, you know what? Such a LOSER doesn't deserve any better.

13 December 2009

First things First; lets go hunting...

Long absence, will try to make it up, yatti yatti yatta!

You wanna know why people are so up for hunting these days? (Brace urself for a really bad pun), because there is a Tiger in the Woods. When the going gets tough for a sports-hero, that is when (s)he needs your support the most. This is my turn to come out and pledge my allegiance to the Tiger.

I can talk about how he is an easy target because he is a celebrity and how others screw around with their personal relationships and get away with it and that the man is paying the price of fame. The fact that the media is making a huge three ring circus out of this hardworking man's life is also not my point of interest. I am a simpler man. I make politically incorrect statements and am not hesitant to change them if situation demands it to change; not because I am a person with a flip-flop kinda temperament but I believe that being consistent is over-rated as opposed to being right. Today, I am gonna make a statement and it is one of those times where I am pretty positive that I will not change my mind about this one. Here it goes... A genius is bound by the political laws of the land as is any other citizen; but never have an illusion that you have a control over his ethics. Your ethical laws are nowhere close to his zone of mental/spiritual activity. And still, as silly mortals who presume to know everything about everythign despite having had only about four hundred years of continuous history, they would still pretend to know what goes on in the mind of a person whose perspective of things are entirely otherworldly compared to the rest. Tiger Woods is a man on the top of the golfing world, because he can think in a way that all the other losers of the world put together cannot think in. It is the same mind that makes him feel inadequately satisfied with one woman. That he takes in a harem of a dozen, is just as solid a fact and nothing more than the fact that he has won every major title in the world to be won and he is still going strong. You cannot change a fact by wishing it away. You cannot pretend that one fact about a person changes everything else about the person. So as long as the world pretends everything to be in black/white with its media as its blanket, it can only keep growing frustrated knowing how impotent it is. So sayeth this SaravananMan!

19 November 2009

Wire (2009)

So much can be said about this. And so much will be.
But now, I take this moment to thank all those who made this possible. Congrats to the people who put in their best in the play. It was an honor to have worked with you all. Cheers.

10 November 2009

Ajab Prem Ki Gazab Kahani (2009)

Yes. I actually watched this movie in a theatre. No. I am not gonna say how abysmally uninspired or shoddy the work was. Believe it or not, I liked this film. This was the first all out entertainer which I have seen in a movie screen after M.Kumaran Son of Mahalakshmi. Not that all the other movies that I watched in the meanwhile sucked, au contraire, all of them were viewed for a reason. Oh, its a serious drama. Oh, its got Michael Jackson/Johnny Depp/Bruce Willis/Kamal Hassan so on n so forth. Though each of them turned out to be great movies, I went to those movies expecting them to be good. Not so much APKGK. I did not have expectations. In fact, I expected it to be bad. I could predict the story line within few scenes into the story line and the fact that it had borrowed generously from many tamil movies [Kaadhala Kaadhala, Azhagai Irukirai Bayamai Irukiradhu, Aethiri and some Pandyarajan's movies as well], should have contributed to my hating the movie. But interestingly, I enjoyed.

You wanna know why?!! Because I am not a SNOB like you think me to be. Aha! Don't go defensive, saying, no no Saravanan, I did not think so. If you did not, you would not have joined the chorus when I said, wanna know why?? Its in your mind I tell you. I can read you like the morning's paper. Silence! I kill you! [Ach(phlem)med voice]. Seriously, I can enjoy the typical commercial movie as much as the next man and have no intellectual qualms about it. It might be the most literal manipulation of the idea "slapstick" but I am cool with that. Given that a Harlequinade was actually a LITERAL slapstick, they even have history by their side. So what DO I have problems with?

The Pretenders. No matter how great your technology is, if you are gonna make a movie to show how many good foriegn language films you have seen, sorry, I am not interested. That's why Kaminey pissed me off. It was technically sound and the script screamed SMART all over. But there was a general tone of condescension towards the audience, as if, look, I can be better than what I am but I will not be because YOU [the audience] are not smart enough to understand it. oFF.. tat.z the most off putting thing you can see in a screen. If you ask them why, the commercial viability is an excuse. However, they will not be open about it. Its a hypocritical way of saying, I want your money, but that still doesnt change the fact that I think YOU to be stupid... When will the so called new blood moviemakers get their heads outta their asses? You tell me.

DO NOT GET ME WRONG!!! I LIKE SMART MOVIES. I dig every minute of a Dev D and I think it is as good as any of the world cinema it is set against. Its strength, as Kamal says, in it being authentic/ethnic. The more ethnic you get, the more global you become. What I AM against, is seeing a rip off collaged from Tarantino films. So, ya, at the end of the day, I am here to give a quick review of APKGK.

Here.z the lowdown. It was good. Not always funny. But mostly ya. Good comic timing, unexpectedly from Katrina Kaif. Sallu bhai lights up the screen for those two precious minutes he is on the screen. Ranbir shows great potential. The exaggerations are demanded from the milieu of the story itself, and therefore quite forgivable. Acting is overall engaging. Technically, AWESOME visuals. great cinematography marries the beautiful sets near Ooty. Editing is tight and entertaining. Songs are hummable. The Sufi number is good and visually breathtaking... Unfortunately, they don't go well together. SO! Rajkumar Santhoshi gets a thumbs up. We send him home with congratulations, hoping that he doesnt put everything on the wire next time around, hoping that good acting will save the day and makes sure that he gets a really GOOD script before he starts having fun making the movie.

03 November 2009

This Is It! (2009)

Gone for over a couple of weeks, and I need to choose my comeback vehicle rather carefully. Kerala Varma Pazhassi Raja demanded that I write about him. But I will save that for another day. I prioritize and tonight, I recall moments that tell me why he is always the King. Not Elvis. The other One.

Perhaps it was only because the word Michael Jackson was a household name that I feel so strongly. I come from a humble background where Western Music was Michael Jackson. But I have a feeling that I am not the only one in my generation for whom this was a reality. We grew up listening to Thriller. Uttering those words as mere sounds and being excited whenever that one hour of MTV was shown on DD2 because it meant one thing; Michael would be on the screen. I remember the time when buying cassettes was the way of showing love. At a hundred and ninety five rupees a tape, Dangerous was a little out of reach. A lot of coaxing my brother resulted in getting a pirated copy; a cherished artifact from an ordinary childhood.

Back then, as children, we loved unconditionally. No questions to whether he was really black or white. Of course, the odd urban legend circulated amongst bewildered children, ranging from ones which claimed that Michael's Thriller was based on a real life experience where he had to pretend to be a monster to save his girlfriend to other things like, somebody set fire to his head and that's why he keeps changing his face. I was young enough not to know a truth by its face when it came under the guise of a gossip. There was no judgement on what kind of a person Michael was. When he said that he loved children, we believed that he meant it. As one grows up, cynicism creeps in and the same person whom we loved is fragmented into many layers; of a careless father, an abused child, a possible paedophile, an eccentric musical genius who could not adapt to the changing forms of the industry and a man obsessed with the magical Neverland and thought himself to be Peter Pan himself - expressing a pathetic desire never to grow old and whither away. So much was said about how he tried holding on to that image; with hair implants, countless skin grafts and surgeries. The fragility behind the genius was so striking. Today what I saw made me connect with something deep inside. Not that I could grant pardon for what he did wrong; its not my job. If he was a paedophile, that was a very bad thing he did and no matter what else he did takes away the fact that he irrevocably damaged children's lives. However when a case presents itself with ambiguous evidence; it is a matter of faith and I choose to believe that Michael was innocent. Not that I have not cracked Michael Jackson child-molestation jokes; but I knew, deep down, I would always choose to see my heroes in a light befitting them.

Today, I once again became the boy who chose to buy a Michael Jackson disc when the first discplayer arrived at the house. It was a fake with versions by lesser singers. But I still loved it. When the computer became a household item, I collected the entire discography and waited for the day Invincible released. An album which bombed globally became my favorite. There was a time when 2000 watts ran in my head more than it ran on my computer. One of my fondest memories was when I was about ten years old, I tried so hard to get a photocopy made of the Michael Jackson songbook - from where I tried hard to follow the notations on the keyboard. Sucess did come but in a very limited way. I could only master the first few lines of Billie Jean. I am sure that the copy still exists somwhere in my house. I can tell you where a small pocketbook with lyrics of Michael Jackson's songs released by Channel [V] is in my house. There was this three VCD History which I have seen countless times. Michael Jackson; no matter how many Rock bands, Boy Bands, Girl groups, Goth performers, Latino Superstars and Hip-Hoppers come and go; you are still the greatest.

As I tried and participated in a lot of group activities as a kid and as a part of the group, you do not get to say no to anything before you try it at least once. The very first song that I learnt to sing was Jamaican Farewell, where the teacher made the switch on the word Rum to Coke. Today, I know that those two go best together and only a few streaks of incidents stay on in my mind from that age. One of them was learning how to sing Heal the world. I was the weakest singer in the group. And for probably the very same reason, I was given the part of the lead. It needed me to hit notes that I still cannot manage. But on the day of the performance (before a small crowd of about 20 housewives and a couple of dozens of other kids) we sang, and it is a happy memory.

Today, after watching the limited edition movie, I was telling my mother how disappointed I felt when I saw that hardly a score people had turned up. And in a theatre where mediocre movies are priced at tickets over 200 rupees, this one was priced at a mere 90. Not that I regret having paid less. But there was a feeling of hurt. As if he was being disrespected. My mother does not know much about Michael's music, but when I described what I saw, her eyes welled up too. When the movie was over, everyone left the hall except for four people. My companion was not a Michael fan and she still was impressed. And these four people standing there waiting for the credits to end had a sudden feeling of oneness. It was an innocent moment, as if we were waiting for a miracle. As if Michael would come back. Just for one moment. At those fading moments, even the glimpse of the man gave a feeling of peace. We waited for him to return. But he did not. And we reconciled that he will live in our hearts, as cliched as it may sound. His message was simple. We should care about each other and the planet we live in; for if we do not, this world cannot heal itself.

And perhaps, That is it!

13 October 2009

I am not tired of Bruce

Apart from inspiring me to consider his name for one of my many future children, Bruce Willis has made sure of one thing. He can play a cop when he is ninety and making his hundred and thirty eigth cop film, and we would still not be bored. This man, is the new Clint Eastwood. Surprising, that he was a bartender who played second fiddle on a sitcom before breaking out as one of the greatest Hollywood action stars and by far the greatest in the nineties (and surprisingly even in the 2000s). Yes, he has done sucky movies like Perfect Stranger and Planet Terror (there, I have said it) but Bruce Willis is funny and cool. He does not don those six packs but he has edged out the muscle-mountains like Stallone or Schwarzenegger with his cool. So, without much ado or expression of such unadulterated man-love... Let me give you my view on Surrogates (2009).

Begin review. Surrogates is a kickass movie. End of review.

For the slightly longer version: The movie starts off with an extremely artificial Bruce Willis with ultra-smooth, pink skin, considerably a few inches taller and with fake golden hair parted at one side. Ugghh! I felt so squeamish, for having brought someone along who has not seen any Bruce Willis movies and having put him on a pedastal for being the man who could kill a helicopter with a car. I did not want the image of Bruce Willis on a schtick to be the first impression. Anywho, the good lord heard my prayers and out comes a sleepy, unshaven, bald (I like!) Willis who realizes that he needs to kickass oldschool. Five cops, under his command are killed and he needs justice be done. Ooh.. I forgot to add, the world (about a quarter century in the future) has adopted the use of surrogates (manequins that do whatever you think). No matter what happens to the surrogates, you are safe - or so the world believed. Until this new weapon takes out a bunch of people. Bruce has to walk the unsafe streets and get to the bottom of this mystery. On the way, he encounters a prophet (Rastafarian Ving Rhames. 'nuff said), a mad scientist, his scarred wife (a little too literal for my taste), his eternal love-puppy/partner, a really cool fat dude and a couple of cars that can take serious damage. At the end of the movie, you smile when you get to the "yippee kay-yay motherfucker" moment. Worth a million in gold. The movie is hilarious, at times intentionally and sometimes not so much. The acting is really good. The special effects have been used very wisely. Kudos on the detailing about the entire surrogacy. The movie walks a good mile away from being anything close to the heavy philosophy side of the issue, like they did in movies like The Matrix. This is clean, uncomplicated fun which very clearly conveys a couple of profound and more tangible truths of addiction to comfort/technology. Willis has done this before by taking a 2x4 to a digital war (in Die Hard 4.0). Loved every bit of that. However the movie cannot give you the feeling of existential crisis that Matrix so easily evokes. Another of my favorite movies which I saw this reflecting, was Wall E. The futuristic age where we are too comfortable was portrayed in that movie so well. This seems like a link from our age to the age of that speechless computer. And of course, for the first time, Bruce Willis does not get totally mothered before he gets the bad guys. At the end, it is pretty much a whodunit. Whoever wants to rally for Bruce Willis as the next Batman, raise your hands and scream "marshmallow". The Dark Knight, is essentially a detective. Anyway, this movie works for me in so many levels. I give it a two-thumbs up!

04 October 2009

Art; just what the hell is it?

The debate continues...

Is the primary thing about art, its form or content?
Is it the style or the substance?
Is it the message or the medium?

Today, I happened to see a TV debate that degenerated into a complete bi-polar rejection of the other, when they were discussing the importance of Story against Technology. Though I tried to tolerate the debate to a certain point given the fascination Tamil people have over things from the shiny disco balls genre, the line was when one of the "eminent"directors in Tamil shoved his foot in his mouth saying, that if you want to know a good story, people should just better read a book. It was an epiphanic moment, for I was suddenly struck by the cascading numerous worthless trash-films which utilised technology and failed miserably for having sacrificed the story at the begining. I am not willing to name-names, but if you look at the box-office ratings of movies made at a huge budget (be it Tamil or Hindi), they have fared only reasonably well (read, just enough to make the producer from killing himself - satellite-rights being their gods).

However, it is hilarious to see these people argue, who consider only the gimmickry/graphics as the advancement of technology. I am not anti-technology but I do not like the idea of seeing tech as a 300 foot monster eating through the golden gate bridge. Some of the best graphics has been employed in hard-hitting dramas like, No Country for Old Men or There Will Be Blood. Just as the best technology has a non-intrusiveness going for it, it also has an air of inevitability to it. If double exposure and cut shots were used to show dual-roles in films in the seventies, computerized-green-matting was not a method specific to one school of film-making. Today, six different Kamal Hassans can interact within the same frame. Things ranging from multi-track audio recording, online-editing, compact cranes, steadycams, remote/underwater cameras and impossible digital lenses are the real breakthroughs. When the 70 mm format was introduced, it was seen as a novelty and people predicted its failure in months. And today, more cinematographers are inching towards the digital revolution with film becoming obsolete.

Technology is therefore very important to the art of cinema - so much so that it can be called the backbone of a film. A story, on the other hand, is it's spirit - it's soul. No, I am not going to proceed and build a case of logical defense for the story - for it would be simply written off as the writer'z bias. Even thinking of explaining why a story is important to a movie seems ridiculous to me. Well, that decision also kind of destroys the raison d'etre of this blogticle. Maybe I should discuss a few films which have failed despite (or due to) technology and vice versa? I am not good at that. But rather, I have decided that I will talk of films which succeed with appropriate support given by one to the other. For Sita and Saketham are not two opposing forces.

The Godfather. I really get this movie. The fact that it is also a critical hit makes me feel very happy. It is the closest I am gonna get to being a movie/critic savvy guy. When the police captain gets shot (and so many more guys through the course of the film), you feel the impact that a real gunshot would have on the room and on flesh. That is good application of technology to highlight a really good story.

The Blairwitch Project. Here is a movie where the technology is half the story. Though many of my smarter friends would point out that using VHS in the age crawling towards Digital isn't an advancement. But this movie shows the usage of appropriate format for an appropriate story. The movie is built on fear, which doesn't work better than, as we find out, a torchlight and a jerky camera.

Amelie. French movies have a thing of realism going for them. Even when Jean Reno moves from the medieval times to the future in The Visitors (and it's sequel - hilarious riots, don't miss), the stick on to the very realistic style of narration. However, the magic of everyday life is captured in the fabulous destiny of Amelie Poulain. Nobody would argue that the same technology would have been equally enjoyable in a movie like, say... hmmm... err... Since I am thinking about good movies, the bad ones slide off my mind.

Rocky Balboa. In the late sixties, Cassius Clay was out of work for refusing to take part in the Vietnam War. Rocky Marciano was retired for a good ten years. One thing remained common between them. Both were undefeated. SO, to determine who was truly the greatest, they shot for seventeen days with each boxer showing his best moves against the other. A computer was devised to generate a fight based on over a hundred variables. The match ended in Rocky Marciano winning. Cassius Clay had just one line to say. The computer must have been made in New Jersey (where Rocky was from). This feud did not last longer, because Rocky died in an aircrash few weeks before the release of this movie. There ends reality. Rocky Balboa (irreverantly called Rocky VI) starts at this point. Another computer simulation with another Rocky against the world champion Dixon. But when Dixon disgraces Rocky on television, he steps back into the ring. Though this movie might seem to have been included in the list just to show off my knowledge about The Superfight, it also shows how credibility could be lent to a movie where a sixty year old (in real life and also in the movie - almost) can step up toe to toe with a twenty five year old and still leave with his head high. If you missed the amazing use of camera, editing technologies, that.z how good it was used.

Of course there are other movies. In so many other languages. Let me name some of them, Black Cat, White Cat (German), The Good, The Bad and The Weird (Korean), Hey Ram (Tamil), Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (English), and the list is enormous. The best movies that we remember are listed not because of that one amazing shot or gimmickry it had - yes, there was a time and we call it the fifties where people swooned over the chariots of Ben Hur and the Red Sea parting in the Ten Commandments. But today, people have grown over that. That is why the greatest movies list features simple stories like Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, Citizen Kane. Psycho, probably one of the lasting thrillers of our times is famous not because of the number of cuts in the shower scene or the usage of chocolate sauce to give the right consistency for blood - but for its rivetting drama. So, I rest my case that technology is extremely important, to show a good story better.

UPDATE/RESPONSE
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A dear friend of mine, Ram Prakash mentioned about this page to me on a mail. His views, untouched as follows,

"B.t.w, interesting that your latest post talks about story vs technology in movies....... What is the techonological brilliance of the stampede scene in Lion King if the viewer is not on the edge of his seat waiting to see if Simba survives the whole screenful of moving pixels..... Technology = Money these days..... True brilliance of technology - we saw some months back - watch "kaagaz ke phool" and the scene where the hero walks into a movie studio - the lighting and camera work spoke so loudly that the scene was very aptly shot without any dialogues....... "

Spot on Ram! Technology is not buying bigger or flashier stuff, but using them appropriately. Thank you for your feedback.

03 October 2009

Unnai Pol Oruvan on A Wednesday!

First of all, thank you Ram. It was a momentary thing, and the inconsistent me is back.

I made it a point to watch A Wednesday at least a week before UPO released. I am happy man for having done so; for if I had seen the latter first and made these following comments, people would have accused me that whatever we watch first strikes us more. Thanx to my order of viewing, people will only accuse me of being partisan to my mother tongue. Yippeee!!!

Simple stories go a long way - the biggest movies have always had a simple story to tell. Good ones, bad ones, yes, but simple ones. This story is a simple one too. A Common Man, reacts to the distressing realities of his city life and takes matters in his own hands. He holds the city ransom while demanding four terrorists be handed over (the purpose of which is later revealed to be murder of the murderers). I am impelled, as a writer to discuss the essential danger in such a plot - is the Old Testament still the ultimate authority in legal issues? Or has wishful thinking made the makers of this film blind-sided to the ethical implications of the MESSAGE they communicate? We all understand how the author himself feels about it -when we see the fourth terrorist escaping the fate meant for him, the writer.z choice is to kill him anyway for emphasis. But it is not a question of such a reaction to society is right or wrong - but it should be remembered that both the movies have been successful and such an anger is deeprooted in the hearts of the people. Beware of the cats. Particularly the ones that can imitate too well.

Now as I hear swear-words from people who have NOT seen the movie, let me go back to the format of an old fashioned review. From the beginning, I did NOT like the idea of Kamal remaking A Wednesday - for two reasons. 1, A remake means that Kamal is not engaging himself with original material for a significant amount of time. 2, A Wednesday is an extremely topical film - with the background of the Mumbai train blasts the year before and the attacks in November, the movie strikes a chord without having to say much as to the WHY of the story. There is an instant connection. But the story set in a city which has not been under a general curfew since the second world war seemed too far-fetched. What was Kamal thinking?

But I was pleasantly surprised in Kamal.z take on the whole script. The angle with which the Common Man was approached had changed drastically - from Naserudin Shah'z tired old man who wanted to take a stand to Kamal'z socially upright, first-in-line-to-justice and borderline arrogant portrayal, the tempo was markedly different. Initially, like everyone else, I was not okay with Kamal playing Naserudin Shah'z role for the simple reason that while the latter has played roles of ambiguous/negative nature well (even in bad movies like Krisssshhhhh), Kamal, discounting his white-guy role in Dasavatharam, has not played a good villainic role in ages. People are not going to believe that Kamal is the bad guy no matter how hard he tries. They wait for the explanation to connect the dots - as to how is a good guy. Naserudin Shah keeps you guessing, albeit for at least until the unnecessary intermission. I finally figured out that Kamal cannot pull this off.

Surprisingly, Kamal could. And he did. Making the character a good ten years younger, decidedly smarter, stronger and more daring, the lines blur as we wonder if he is doing it to satisfy the ego of the superstar or to actually give more credibility to the motivation. Either way, he is convincing. Only a man who is capable of going well out of his way to make a point would ever come into the cycle. That'z why we have a tougher common man. Like it is said, Common Sense is the least common commodity - we recognize in this character a set of traits which we all want to possess, but compromise in everyday life. This movie is an ego trip and a self-gratification to all who watch it. giving us a sense of power which comes only for a very high price. In A Wednesday, the price is never shown - the fantasy is left in its own plane. But UPO tries as much as it can to ground the fantasy in the sphere of reality. That is why you see the real Chief Minister's house and there is no 6' tall ex-millitary man standing deferentially to Anupam Kher'z decisions. With everybody trying to protect their own interest, the credibility is rivetting.

Technically UPO is a superior film than A Wednesday - in editing, cinematography, sound/re-recording and music. The consistency in which the plausibility is upheld is also commendable. In acting, Naserudin Shah'z performance is a completely different take from Kamal'z and therefore a comparison becomes impossible. However, Anupam Kher'z performance comes a distant second to Mohanlal'z solid presence. Very few movies give good actors roles where everything is going for them - this is definitely one such for Mohanlal. Unlike the saintly Kher whose every word is treated with reverence, Mohanlal has so many practical difficulties despite his apparent unlimited power. UPO fails to deliver with the other actors though - everyone (from the terrorist to the newsperson) doing a half-cooked job. Lakshmi is an exceptional choice who shines in her brief but powerful role (which was not present in the original).

So, the final verdict on UPO is that it is a perfect remake. In the sense, that it was a movie which took the original as a starting point to improve upon, perfect and most importantly, bringing it home to a different audience, tailoring the product to their tastes. It is heartening to know such an effort is possible in a remake, particularly in a time where remakes are diminutive, grotesque bastard children (like Ghajini from Memento). Having said that, I do hope that Kamal'z next is an original script where he contributes to the source rather than developing an already established format. So, until then! cheers!!!

UPDATE!!!! (4th November 09)
A friend of mine sends an opinion of his friend on the movie. I take the liberty of publishing my response as a part of the blog...

Thanx lenny for bringin my attention to this article. the followingreply is to that girl with a name so common tat every one in two kidshave it; male or female. go ahead and laugh at my vitriolicresponse!!! guhuhaahahaahah....

the speaker sums up my point of view in the title of her blog.basically the jobless. enough already! i am tired of people walkinginto a chinese restaurant and crying that they re hindu brahmins whoare offended at the pork-making and cow-killings! nw again, thisspeaker will definitely pick up a fight with Spielberg, for when hemade the movie Schindler's List, how dare he showed that the jews werepersecuted. is tat not an organized way of defaming the germans?particularly when the Jews are no good themselves.. did they notmurder in cold blood the messaih, Jesus Christ himself?!! FOR FUCK'SSAKE! lets have some perspective here. when i am making a film with aspecific story in mind, i cannot tackle everything about theparticular aspect i am talking about. if you feel so strongly aboutit, go make a movie yourself. doesnt take much more than a videocamera. Paranormal has proved it. but let the politics of technologygo to hell for the while. i have a couple of questions. so how SHOULDthe Indian-Muslim be portrayed? or should it be Muslim-Indian? if heshould neither be a terrorist nor a patriot, what other roles shouldthere be for the PERSON? by the way you talk about it, he should be,first of all, a she. Good, i can deal with that; for we are the samepeople who whistled at Angelina Jolie kicking a variety of machoasses. but wait! let me check my necessity for an ass-kicking specimento be the protagonist of the story.. or even my presumptousness tothink that the person has to be a protagonist at all. how dare I!? So,this person should not be shown tackling their daily problems theyencounter because they re a VICTIMIZED group. so the movie should moreor less cover the three hours of a Muslim female who has a pleasantlife, doing whater she likes doing. and where is the story?

at this point, i want to let ur friend knw, tat unfortunately, we areall part of a conventional world where telling a story is still thepoint of a movie. oh crap.! when did that disaster happen?! so re utelling me tat no matter how politically incorrect a movie is, it canstill be a movie?!?!?! seriously, dudette, get a life. OF COURSE BenHur is a movie; despite having kicked half the horses in their buxombutts. if animal rights has a problem with it, tat.z exactly wat itmeans - animal rights has a problem with it. IT CANNOT BECOME ANY LESSOF A MOVIE, BECAUSE OF SOMEONE HAVING A PROBLEM WITH IT! so ya, if youaint down with that, i ve got two words for u.! watch it?! :P

cheers lenny. may the force be with you. n btw, let ur friend knowtat i am all game to defend the Jedis, if she thinks that they are atraditionalist rebellion against the great democratic force of theempire!

22 September 2009

So... Kevin is a girl!

Up! (2009)
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Animation, Comedy, Adventure.

Hollywood comes home to adventure as it never has before - with a rotund boy named Russel, a distinctly German-named Karl Freidrichssen (and German-looking too), a fancy feathered bird named Kevin, who is a girl and Doug, the talking dog. Throw in a flying house (often referred to as the floating house) and a childhood-superhero-turned-obsessive-compulsive-psycho-villain, you are bound to be left laughing; but beware - for the moments where you do not, you might just be crying.

To borrow a line from the movie, I am getting quite ahead of myself; let me begin at the beginning. Or better, go a step back-er! :) Partly Cloudy is one of the finest animated short-films that I have seen. Please YouTube it. It is awesome in so many levels. I am surprised at the fact that I can still be surprised, for it is common knowledge that Pixar has made some really good short-animated-features. This is one has both a great idea and a warm heart going for it.

Now to the movie itself: technically, it is awesome. I did not expect Pixar to out-do the wordless romance of Wall-E and definitely not so soon. They have gone one step further, by matching the wordless romance in under ten minutes - the first ten of the movie at that. When everything seems bleak - the story magically flips back on to its feet, and lo behold! Flies away. Tied to a thousand colored balloons. The journey, despite its evident literality, ensures that the obvious metaphor does not become a cliche but evolves into an allegory. Simpler put, we do not just enjoy the movie like hell, but also get a damn good thought to take home.

I am NOT going to give the story in a nutshell; not because there is a single central surprise, on revealing which the movie falls flat - but because I do not want you to bear a grudge against me even for a moment AFTER seeing the movie, thinking that Saravanan spoiled the movie just a little bit by telling me something. But in case you are one of those who wanna know! It is a loves story about dogs, balloons, Paradise Falls and a badge. And ooh! ooh! I almost forgot, about Kevin being a girl...!

There is a strong Dahl-ian feel to the movie - in both facing head-on the dark realities of life (even in a story set mainly for a younger audience) and introducing a sudden single fantastic event which gives the protagonist to change the course of things. Despite the improbability of the first magical event, the remaining part of the fantasy strictly adheres to a very-human-logic. The movie also underlines a theme which we tackle oftener in everyday life - the growing gap between generations and how dangerously irreconcilable they are becoming. What really impressed me was that there was no ordinary ending where the bad-guy simply changes heart.

Instead of summing up this conversation saying that the movie was simply awesome (though it really was awesome), I would like to leave you with my favorite scene from the movie. When Carl discovers young (annoying) Russell aboard the flying house, he gets a momentary vision where he lowers Russell to one of the buildings with a few kerchiefs tied together, and slips. Russell just makes the observation that he could almost touch the buildings with his hands. This scene cracked me up - for it was both grown up and juvenile - and hilarious at both levels.

20 September 2009

My New Favorite Old Movie!

Sister Act (1992)
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I love movies. I watch them by the dozens. And then some more. I would like to believe that I am not your regular pseudo-intellectual-movie-buff who admits to watching everything, but consider movies like The Transporter - a guilty pleasure. I am not aiming to offend people who geniunely like Citizen Kane; I fell asleep and did not find it so great. The Maltese Falcon was another story. However, my top ten list has had movies so vast and varied that I thought I was truly a loyalist of the entire art-form.

Until I watched Whoopi Goldberg as the amazing Deloris Van Cartier! Wow! This movie is amazing at so many levels that I could not stop enjoying even a minute of it. I was laughing my guts out. The characters do not even have to say anything to make me laugh - just place Whoopi Goldberg in a Nun'z attire and put her beside a bewildered Maggie Smith; I am either a simple minded guy who'z easily impressed or you are too good for my blog.

The script... Oh! This script simply took me to the good old times of the early nineties.. Interestingly, this could be seen as the peak of your happy-go-lucky-formulae films. The studios lay their hand on one good idea which follows a workable structure; they milk at least a dozen films in the same genre. This happens all the time and anywhere in the world; but in the early 90s - it all happened within the span of a year. It was the season of sequels, simplicity and subversion. They kept it real. But often times, it worked. So much more often that it actually confused the connoisseurs of cinema. Will another Network be made? What happened to movies like A Clockwork Orange?! And why, for god'ssake, are we making a Godfather III? The reality was that the economic markets of the world were opening up again for the first time after the Cold War. The West was suddenly aware of the contemporariness of the rest of the world thanks to private competitive media. Everything was everywhere. Times were a-changing in everything else that people seemed to seek the comfort of familiarity in the quality of cinema.

And this need for conformity has produced some of the most obscure movies - like the later Mad Max and Lethal Weapon movies, some of the most engaging movies - like the Die Hards and most times, the predictable movies - like Sister Act. Surprisingly, there is a sense of pure fun when you look at all these kinds. Sister Act, with its simple inversion-motivated theme has a plot where the most unlikely lounge singer from the Vegas strip becomes a nun. There is the familiar I-don't-belong phase, followed by I-do-things-my-way phase which results in I-am-actually-liking-this phase eventually concluding in a I-have-to-give-up-what-I-thought-I-hated-but-I-feel-sad-for-the-same phase. Of course, there is a happy ending. The beauty of this movie is that each segment of this predictability is so engrossing with consistent actions, madcap situations and witty dialogues. It is an aesthetic treat to merely watch the lion's mane of Whoopi Goldberg bounce as she conducts a Catholic Church Choir in the most unconventional way.

If God resides in the small things; this movie is a place of worship. The detailing of minor characters like Willy and Joey are outstanding. Some of the wittiest lines in the movie are spoken by less prominent characters. The acting is outstanding overall. Harvey Keitel'z performance is intimidating and hilarious at the same time. The music; oh God! The music alone can sell this film. But the finest aspect of this movie is that it does not need the selling. It could have easily become a movie like Khazam with its fairy-tale core; but it outlasts technological strides forward and today'z thrust on intellectualization of everyday life because it has a heart. It can put a smile on everyone'z face. And most importantly you go back with something at the end of the movie. I did.

So, until another time where I get back to you with another highly-opinionated view about some dank-cinema... ciao!

10 September 2009

I don't like Arnab

Face it, he does not even have to try hard; we all have a general feeling of dislike towards Arnab Goswami. The quality of the company which runs his TV channel is suspect. Breaking News! has become the staple headline on that channel - even (I apologize), particularly, when it is about Rakhi Sawant's Swayamvar. Politicians have taken a vow of silence for people like Arnab try and make sure that whatever they say - from economic instability to indigestion - can and will be used against them. I am sorry to use the term, but usually nobody likes people like Arnab. Probably he enjoys it. Nobody cares.

But again, personally I do not like any of the other people on news channels either. Ranging from the kale-rang-ka-kala-bandhar types to the most sophisticated salt-n-pepper bearded people, I do not like them. I am not so much to name names here. News today is manufactured by one and all. No matter how classy or how crass it seems, 40% of the world's media is controlled by a single man. We have heard so much of this 'beware of the WATCHdog' thing, that it takes a real knee to the chin to wake us up. We are a sleepy people, we human beings are.

It was today's DEBATE that made me feel the most annoyed. It made me think a thought that put things in perspective. The topic was the austerity advice by the Finance Ministry to all Govt. Employees. The ruling is simple; all govt employees should for the effect of the following one year, due to the global financial crunch should spend govt money in moderation - including travel. Govt officials are to travel in the Economy class of the flight. Here comes the clincher - a special exception to the rule; MPs are exempted from this rule. Arnab whips up a copy of the ruling in front of the camera and says, what makes the MPs beyond the dictates of the country. In a time of crisis, should not the leaders and representatives of the people show their committment to the cause through action? Bottomline, does the taxpayer have the right to know how his money is being spent? These questions triggered off a debate which amused me and face a rather inconvenient truth - that we perhaps need people like Arnab to ask questions like these. Frankly, I do not like Arnab Goswami; but the Indian system makes him inevitable.

Some of the issues that cropped up during the discussion...
* MPs are NOT govt servants! Seriously, if you had thought that the govt being a body that you (as a citizen) have contributed in constructing and in turn is in charge of the Members of the Parliament whom you have elected to take part in the govt are govt servants; YOU ARE WRONG! They are not govt servants! They are LEADERS! And LEADERS of a nation should NOT walk in the street, eat the same food as the common-folk or sit in the same section as the hardworking taxpayer - because they are LEADERS!

* If you travel in the Economy class of an airplane, you will reach the destination later than if you travel Business class. If any of you thought that the MPs stick it out because of the free drinks, shame on you. They do it so that they can reach there quicker. Them and their train of seven-eight cronies. Help them to help you. Pay taxes to give them a chance to pinch air-hostess' bottoms (or stewards for those inclined thus).

* Asking a Member of the Parliament how the taxpayer's money is spent is a crime. You can be hung in the square for that. How dare you think that representatives of the people are actually answerable to the people? Are they not taking a 20% cut from their salary? Yes, they are merely getting eight hundred rupees now. Excluding their travel allowance, food allowance, vehicle allowance, coffee allowance, biscuit allowance, lapdance allowance, bar allowance, clothes allowance, wives allowance, kids allowance and a list of another five hundred and thirty seven categories. THEY WILL NOT BE AUSTERE BY GIVING UP THESE ALLOWANCES. They will concede 20% of their salary. Whew! What a huge sum! I am breathless. I realize that with just the 20% poverty can be eradicated in the nation AND we can mass produce a single vaccine that will prevent us against H1N1, HIV, Cancer and a bunch of other things.

* No, just because a person wears an unbuttoned cotton shirt and appears unwashed on national news television, it does not mean that he will support the cause of equality between the MPs and the commonfolk. It doesn't matter if the person is supposed to represent the party that has achieved the longest running democratically elected communist regime. He still will insist that a ruling, no matter how good or bad from the govt WOULD not be binding on him, because he is an MP and MPs are directed only by the Speaker of the Lok Saba. True.

* Security, interestingly, was never an issue raised by any of the MPs. Of course, that is a valid point, that angry people might just slit their throats if they travel in the same class as them.

* There are a million other expenses that are involved in the running of a country that a normal person cannot understand - because the term normal person is a lie maintained by the govt to make us feel better; because the normal person is a retard. We let the MPs fly first class because they help us maintain that illusion.

So, bottomline... Do I say that if the MPs stop eating caviar, drinking champagne, humping Scandinavian women and flying first-class - would we find the cure for cancer or at least save enough money to produce one kilolitre of clean drinking water? Maybe not. But flying economy is a symbol - a first page to a host of ways that people who are addressed as the leaders act befitting to the title. Of course, the MPs are right; little things will not make a change. They will not make a difference. Its alright if the MPs spend the taxpayers' money - for the fact it is being spent on the MPs means that it is being spent WELL! No questions asked.

I am a simple man. A reductionist, you may criticize me to be. But imagine an assembly of four families living in a piece of land where they meet to discuss the expenditure to build a common fence to protect the fowls from animals. If the meeting takes place for three months with a chicken each day on the table from their coops for the purpose of the meeting; by the end of the meeting, there will be no more fowls to protect. Yes, I am a simpleton.

Maybe we simpleminded folk are not aware of the fact, that by spending govt money on higher priced tickets, the MPs are actually contributing towards the bailout of the civil aviation industry. That'z the secret of their energy!

Thanks to such developments, I will think of air-travel with all its political layers included. But I still do not comprehend how the finest becomes the right of 545 people in the country for the only reason they are meant to represent the 1 billion others. A majority of the billion will look up at the sky when an airplane passes by, and sigh.

05 September 2009

Rain... 5th September 2009

Happy Teacherz Day!

I know that some of my teachers would kill me if they see the 'z' used in the previous line. But like every other miscreant who'z crying for attention from his/her favorite teacher, I let it be - as a tribute to all of those who would smile reading this. Teachers. Not necessarily mine. Not particularly academic. Not always those who teach the great philosophies of the world. Teachers. Sometimes they say everything that has to be said with a smile. I am sounding too much like an Archie's greeting card. Before I break into the 'you held my hand and taught me to write...' song, let me move on.

This is an extremely localized phenomenon, just like the 14th November being celebrated as Children'z day. But despite this distinction as an Indian Secular Non-Patriotic Day (That'z a tough one folks!), Teachers Day gets little attention. Maybe a set of Reynold's pens from Class VII. A phone call from an ex-student (who still is charmed by the idea of Old School)? Teachers don't get a fair deal these days. I went to school in a time when children waited nervously outside the staff room to give a card and a rose to their favorite teacher. Some had to carry contingency flowers, in case they bump into their not-so-favorite ones. It is not a big deal anymore. Some got chocolates. Or even boiled sweets. But the sense of satisfaction in the eye of the teacher was unmistakable. It was as if this was the one day they have been working for all year long. They seem to say. It was worth it.

Its raining today. I come to know that there have been very few takers for the teaching profession in the recent past years. The best teachers are already in their late thirties. Smart ones don't head the teaching direction these days. The corporate world offers them more money or the universities offer more pride. Schools? They are fast becoming leftovers. I wish I am being the typical oldtimer who says that those days were the best. I maybe wrong. I hope I am wrong. I hope that strong minded individuals become school teachers and inspire students of the next generation to be the best they can be. I have had many who have reshaped my life. Talking about each of them is not the scope of this post. There will be another time abd place for that. But let me leave you with names and their nature in a few words (if that is possible)...

Mrs. Leela Chandy - Class II - Class Teacher - forced me to stand on my own.
Ms. Sheila Beatrice - Class III - Class Teacher - took me seriously.
Mr. Arul Prakash - Class VI - Tamil Teacher - sparked my fancy with the stage.
Mrs. Catherine Simon - Class VIII - English Teacher - made me want to be Scarlet Pimpernel.
Mr. Ganesh - Class XI to XII - Tamil Teacher - defined versatile for me.
Mrs. Lydia Sagayam - Claa I to XII - Librarian - trusted me as a leader.
Dr. Sujatha Ross - Class VIII to XII - Principal - gave me a huge homecoming.
Dr. Claramma Jose - BA I Year - A Doll House - showed me the power of the dramatic word.
Dr. Chitra - Dip in VisCom - Screenwriting - was my teacher; is my mother.
Dr. T R Joy - BA II Year - Iliad - a teacher should not worry about covering syllabus for the course, as much as he shoud about uncovering it for the students.
Prof. Britto Kumar - BA III Year - HEL - man is not happy because he has everything; he has everything only when he is happy.
Mr. Vijayalayan - BA III Year - Fiction - 1 challenge; 30 days; 1st novel.
Dr. Ananda Lal - MA I n II Year - Drama - gave me the strength to jump by believing I will.

Thank you all!

15 August 2009

Don't Kill the Chocolate...

Everything remains unchanged. Except perspective.

If you are bracing yourself for a tirade of upbeat oneliners; relax! I am not that optimistic. Too much optimism has always made me feel like too much sugar in a cup of chocolate - it is rather pointless and it kills the chocolate. I hate everything that kills the chocolate. I would not have believed it if someone told me that I would be discussing about killing chocolate today. But tomorrow is a newer day. Interestingly, I cannot make a list of five things that I positively will not talk about tomorrow - for the moment I mention it, I am sure I will find some way to talk about it. Such is the way of the human mind. But since life is a sine curve, things will always be improving, one way or, literally, the other.

The beauty of being at the bottom of the pit, is that there is only one direction to go up from there - Oops! I have already given away the punch of the line. Getting back on one's feet, can be a bit of a bitch at times. Particularly, when it is an absolute must you do. But the bottomline is, you do. And that is the only thing that counts. That, and an abacus. That counts rather well too. If you want one piece of advice that you can get buried with; just remember this - never, NEVER deal with a guy who plays for broke when he knows he is spiralling down. I am one of those guys. When the times go tough, I know that it is sometimes the smartest thing to lay low and wait for the tides to turn around... But I somehow find myself addicted to this fighting the hardest with the back to the wall scenario. Having perfected the art of writing without an audience (not in the TS Eliot way, but in a more-broke, nobody wants to read me kinda way), there is little else that an aspiring writer can do. Apart from giving up the aspiring and starting to write. Yesterday, all my troubles seemed far away. Because the day before, I had wanted to comfortably call it quits.

Yet, today, everything remains unchanged. Except perspective.

And perspective alters vision. That changes everything!

13 August 2009

Creatures of Habit...

Am I a misanthrope?

I often wake up in the morning and wonder about this question. Then I go back to sleep, for there are dreams waiting for me to complete their stories. Haven't we all been in dreams which seem so compelling and well-knit, that we wish to wake up, remember and make a story out of it? I have, so many times; but most of the time, I forget the dream. Sometimes, I forget they are dreams. It is not my fault that they seem so real. What if life is but a waking dream? We think we are living through the passages of time, being a part of every action we encounter and working with a specific end in mind. When it happens, we are happy and when it doesn't we brood over it for a while before moving on. But what if all that is an illusion? Maybe everything has already happened and we are witnessing them without any control over the way of things?

Is life a great show that we are watching only the re-runs of?

I do not hate people. I think I really appreciate so much that has been created because of the human impetus. Mathematics is probably the purest of human conceptions and language, the most muddled. That is why I sometimes wonder if I should have studied Mathematics. Four years ago, I would have jumped up and said, it is not too late; change your stream, study maths. The knowledge of literature will not go to waste. It was just four good years in coming to terms with what you really want. Ironically, four years ago, I would not have to undo four years of activity to choose a different path. I come to the cross-roads of the same paradox that H G Wells describes so well. If the girl never died, you would not have had the desire to create the Time Machine in the first place. So, the fact that the time machine exists, implies that the girl has died. Mathematics has such lucidity. There are no two ways about a single idea. Sometimes, there are stupid ideas that appear apparently true. But it is only a question of hanging on till you come upon the right way of things. You remember a story when you read when you were twelve. But you cannot reproduce a mathematic problem you had done four years ago. It is not the collective error of the human; a mere shortcoming of the single human.

Am I a misanthrope?

11 August 2009

Who's afraid of swine flu?

Two million people in the next two years...
Thousands dead. Thousands infected.
Say hello to the next Kala bandar.

Be afraid; be very very afraid.

Everyday, you wake up, and get the feeling that if you want to live a happier life, you probably should not read the newspapers. Fears, both imagined and real are treated with the same excitement, that the idea of news gets cluttered. Is it a fear-porn which makes us feel safer with the troubles faced by our fellow humans? By knowing that seven died in a different city, are we consoling that our own city has had just one victim? Yes, my dissenters are already compiling their response speech. I will be called as a suffocator of free speech and a violator of the fourth estate. Maybe, but I do not care much for their opinions. So, what am I trying to say? That the media is creating un-truths as news? No; but I am convinced that the prioritization of news is aimed at creating a mass hysteria, keeping the people in a constant state of fear and making sure that there is only one direction towards salvation. Think of the past three years, and tell me, if one world-threatening situation was not replaced by the next... Taliban, SARS, Bird Flu, Swine Flu, Chicken Flu, Anthony Bordain Flu, Will Smith Flu... The list is rather impressive. We are not told the how of the disease. We are not informed about the do's and the don'ts. What we are reminded of constantly, are the reassurances of safety from the Central and the State governments, the allegations of negligence from the opposing parties, the sting operations from TV news channels which expose our incapacity to handle the situation. Oh, come on! Of course we are incapable of handling the situation. We have an irresponsible media which keeps a bodycount much similar to the way sporting-event scores are updated. Ultimately, only the urban population which watches an English TV news channel, gets half an idea of what they are up against. Suddenly the politics of who went to which country and the route of infection is more important than the message of PREVENTION, CURE and VACCINATION.

No, we do not need that. The more people die, the better TRP ratings.

I am not trying to slight the seriousness of the scenario. Many have fallen prey to this virus and we are told that unfortunately, many more will. But that does not mean we should be afraid to live our lives. In times of great adversity, has risen our greatest epics. A war is always followed by better human perspective. The Great War showed us our infinite capacity for hope, that we even started another. The plague of Black Death was followed by the Renaissance. The polio vaccine was invented years before the last child suffered from it. It does not matter. What matters is how you get up and keep going. The toughest of life's lessons has been expounded by Sylvester Stallone in an often made fun of movie, Rocky Balboa (yes, the sixth part!) where he tells his son, It does not matter how hard you can hit... It is about how hard you can get hit and still keep going forward. Never backing down, but getting up back on your feet and pushing the line. Stallone is right. Give us a while. We will push ourselves back on our feet and do that in style. If not for this attitude, we would not have survived a good forty thousand years, despite our hardier skinned cousins, the neandrathals and the brainier bunch of cousins, whose name I do not seem to remember. We are survivors. We are not the fastest, strongest or the highest... We are the fittest.

If you do not believe in this, shut yourself in your house and wait for doomsday. The others, hoot a cheers to life. Do not give up your inner strength, just because somebody has a statistic saying that there is a fifty seven percent chance that such a thing called inner strength is improbable. Keep walking. The dawn is near. A new day is around the corner.