Middle income group, middle class values. Engineering. Post Grad after CAT. There was the heavy metal phase, there were the college fests. Those times when you just sat and pondered. My special place was the road going to Whisper Valley from Jubilee Hills from you could see a huge expanse of Tolichowki and beyond.
The eternal conflict between doing good for the world and being selfless, that 8 letter word, IDEALISM and doing what was needed REALISM.
The muses, the ones that made you feel like a better person, the ones that were there during those testing times. The need to express. The need to be heard. Making sense of all the scribbling. Imagining the future. Friends that you drifted away from. Friends that kept in touch. The long aimless walks, the sweaty t-shirts. The joy of the mountains. Discovering strangers on strange journeys.
Cold nights. Colder mornings. That favourite pair of shorts that ripped after football practice. Jazz. Aldous Huxley. King Arthur. Thiruvalluvar. Carnatic Music. MMTS Train rides to the last stop and back.
The dreams of meaningful work, of insouciant travels, of excitement, of adulthood. Wordly worries. The fragility of life. The futility of stress. The attachment to materialistic things and cities. The time-space continuum and all of us mortals. Also change/transformation. Although gradual, maybe.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Thursday, July 07, 2011
After Hours
If I have in love with nature, it has usually been during sunrise. If I have ever fallen in love with cities, it is after 1 am.
When the world sleeps (Like that lovely song in Tezaab), thats when those who have nothing step out. I do have a roof over my head and love my sleep, but well since I'm on leave for couple of days, thought I would catch a late night movie. Not half bad, that Transformers movie, I think the Special Effects guys did a terrific job.
We were getting back in my car, the roommate was driving for a change and I was taking in the scenery. Gorgeous it looked, almost like a painting. The orange shafts of light, the roads that shimmered because of the light drizzle, the streams of rain drops that looked spray lines doing a waltz with the wind as one looked up at the lights, it just took my breath away.
I remember late nights in Hyderabad when we would drive back after a long night during our college fest days. Damn ! What I would give to have those days back in my life.
Bombay ! Man, was she different at night or what ! Almost the exact opposite of what she was during the day. No crowds, silence, people walking fearlessly and the notorious face of its underbelly that one could see without any qualms. The young SoBo crowd hung around the posh setups of Colaba, while the taxiwallahs were there to make their bread and butter. You could often find the heavily made up women putting up their wares for display at the Churchgate and CST stations. I was especially fascinated by the "mobile teashop on a cycle concept".I even remember striking up a conversation with Tamil tea wallah while returning from Marine Drive one night.
Pune, is quite different. It hasn't the sensational architecture, but it has a subtle old world charm to it. The Old Poona-Bombay highway which is my lifeline to the city is wide and a speed demon's paradise. I have done this stretch a million times and it is truly like driving in heaven on this road at night. The food joints are few and far in between, and you start finding such places are being in the city for a while. But you learn to live with its laidback attitude.
Its 2 in the morning, I am headed to another favourite of mine, Madras by the afternoon flight, so I'd better get some sleep. But I'm still looking outside my window in awe of how this tranquil moment has filled me with such content.
I'm buzzing with so many thoughts inside my head, but can't find anything concrete enough to document. The mind needs to rest. It is excited. I know it.
When the world sleeps (Like that lovely song in Tezaab), thats when those who have nothing step out. I do have a roof over my head and love my sleep, but well since I'm on leave for couple of days, thought I would catch a late night movie. Not half bad, that Transformers movie, I think the Special Effects guys did a terrific job.
We were getting back in my car, the roommate was driving for a change and I was taking in the scenery. Gorgeous it looked, almost like a painting. The orange shafts of light, the roads that shimmered because of the light drizzle, the streams of rain drops that looked spray lines doing a waltz with the wind as one looked up at the lights, it just took my breath away.
I remember late nights in Hyderabad when we would drive back after a long night during our college fest days. Damn ! What I would give to have those days back in my life.
Bombay ! Man, was she different at night or what ! Almost the exact opposite of what she was during the day. No crowds, silence, people walking fearlessly and the notorious face of its underbelly that one could see without any qualms. The young SoBo crowd hung around the posh setups of Colaba, while the taxiwallahs were there to make their bread and butter. You could often find the heavily made up women putting up their wares for display at the Churchgate and CST stations. I was especially fascinated by the "mobile teashop on a cycle concept".I even remember striking up a conversation with Tamil tea wallah while returning from Marine Drive one night.
Pune, is quite different. It hasn't the sensational architecture, but it has a subtle old world charm to it. The Old Poona-Bombay highway which is my lifeline to the city is wide and a speed demon's paradise. I have done this stretch a million times and it is truly like driving in heaven on this road at night. The food joints are few and far in between, and you start finding such places are being in the city for a while. But you learn to live with its laidback attitude.
Its 2 in the morning, I am headed to another favourite of mine, Madras by the afternoon flight, so I'd better get some sleep. But I'm still looking outside my window in awe of how this tranquil moment has filled me with such content.
I'm buzzing with so many thoughts inside my head, but can't find anything concrete enough to document. The mind needs to rest. It is excited. I know it.
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Warped
I can blame work or my lack of sustaining an inspired moment for not blogging for almost 45 days. Even now, I can't think of something concrete to write. So I decided to spit out a string of random thoughts that are running through my head right this moment. Might be absolutely uninteresting. You are warned.
Shrewsbury biscuits
Running against the cool wind stroking my face
La Dolce Vita
Sliding tackles on the football ground
The promise of an imminent holiday
Kalyana sapudu at authentic tambram wedding in T.Nagar
A late night walk on the roads of Ameerpet
Hot coffee (made by me)
The lasagna at Polka Dots, Aundh
The Dilbert comic strip pinned up at my desk and about how Scott Adams reads my mind
The Zorb Ball
The Jabulani football
My next list of to-buy books
My next 1 TB hard disk for that matter
Memories of Xin Tian Di and Shanghai
So much to do and so less time. Tsk Tsk.
Now Playing : Roger Sanchez - Another Chance
Shrewsbury biscuits
Running against the cool wind stroking my face
La Dolce Vita
Sliding tackles on the football ground
The promise of an imminent holiday
Kalyana sapudu at authentic tambram wedding in T.Nagar
A late night walk on the roads of Ameerpet
Hot coffee (made by me)
The lasagna at Polka Dots, Aundh
The Dilbert comic strip pinned up at my desk and about how Scott Adams reads my mind
The Zorb Ball
The Jabulani football
My next list of to-buy books
My next 1 TB hard disk for that matter
Memories of Xin Tian Di and Shanghai
So much to do and so less time. Tsk Tsk.
Now Playing : Roger Sanchez - Another Chance
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
The Unambitious Man
The sky was populated with puffs of grey crowded next to each other as far as the eye could see. In a crack between these thundering clouds, six or seven shafts of golden rays shone down, steadfast and shimmering.
To many people, it was the just the beginning of monsoon & the rains. To me, it means a whole lot more work. More mud mixed with cowdung, more dustbins filled with semi-solid content. I wish Patil Sahib would give me more than one pair of those nice rubber gloves per month. I should check Geeta Tai's tin box when I visit her this weekend, maybe if I have collected more than 100 rupees I can afford that raincoat. But yes I also enjoy the rain when I'm in my room having chai.
That tin box on top of Geeta Tai's steel cupboard has been my savings bank for many years now. I trust her like a mother, infact she has taken care of me like a mother ever since Aai succumbed to TB.
That is also when we came to this city, Poona. I love being here. Of course it is very strange compared to our village. In the village I was very popular, I was the smartest boy in school and helped my friends with their homework also. Bansode Master said that I should grow up and be an engineer and help people. In a way, I still help people, I keep these roads clean, no ?
I have made some good friends here also. Ganpat is the closest. He works with his father at the food stall in the Railway station. His father lets me have vada pav and chai for free sometimes, he is a hard working man. Ganpat is also hard working and kind, he lends me money sometimes. When both of us have some free time, which is rare, we walk to MG Road. There we see many girls, who look like Bollywood heroines. Maybe one day I will find a nice Maharashtrian girl like that, but she should not wear jeans.
I don't get to see many movies, but I regularly see advertisements and songs because some shops on the roads have these big televisions on their showcases. I also watch 20-20 cricket there. I saw World Cup also like this. But I couldn't see the last few overs because the shop had to be closed. But I knew we won because many boys outside my chawl were bursting crackers and shouting all night. I went outside and walked a little bit that night, everyone was happy. I also was happy. But I was also thinking about all the garbage from the crackers that would have to be picked the next day.
I live on the terrace of my chawl and often stare at the sky. When I was a boy, we could see many stars, but now because of the smoke of all these cars I can't count more than sixteen. My aim is to buy a cycle within one year, and cycles don't give out smoke, so I won't be adding to the smoke. Ganpat says that I should want more and pray for better things in life. Only then I will become rich and have a room of my own in the chawl.
I can't tell him this, but I don't want all those things. I'm happy like this. I have a job. That job gives me enough money to buy food everyday and put some money in the tin box. Sometimes people see me and move away, but some people appreciate the work I do, I feel happy when someone appreciates me. I give chanda for Ganpati every year. Once I saw a man trying to beg for money near the station, he wore torn clothes and looked very thin. He had come from Konkan region a few days ago, lost his bag and did not know what to do. I felt sad for him and asked to come and join me in my job, he reluctantly agreed. I somehow convinced Patil sahib saying that he was my relative, I know I lied but it will help someone so its ok. He now earns 83 rupees everyday, he thanks me everytime he meets me. I feel proud that I helped someone, I think I will get some punya because of this act. I think I will tell Ganpat that earning punya is more important than money. Maybe he won't laugh at my ambitions then.
Vada pav - Maharashtrian snack
Chai - Tea
Chawl - A mansion with many single rooms rented out to different families
Tai - sister
Aai - mother
Chanda - donation for festivals
Sahib - Sir, means of addressing someone respectfully
Punya - good deed
PS:This was not entirely a work of fiction
To many people, it was the just the beginning of monsoon & the rains. To me, it means a whole lot more work. More mud mixed with cowdung, more dustbins filled with semi-solid content. I wish Patil Sahib would give me more than one pair of those nice rubber gloves per month. I should check Geeta Tai's tin box when I visit her this weekend, maybe if I have collected more than 100 rupees I can afford that raincoat. But yes I also enjoy the rain when I'm in my room having chai.
That tin box on top of Geeta Tai's steel cupboard has been my savings bank for many years now. I trust her like a mother, infact she has taken care of me like a mother ever since Aai succumbed to TB.
That is also when we came to this city, Poona. I love being here. Of course it is very strange compared to our village. In the village I was very popular, I was the smartest boy in school and helped my friends with their homework also. Bansode Master said that I should grow up and be an engineer and help people. In a way, I still help people, I keep these roads clean, no ?
I have made some good friends here also. Ganpat is the closest. He works with his father at the food stall in the Railway station. His father lets me have vada pav and chai for free sometimes, he is a hard working man. Ganpat is also hard working and kind, he lends me money sometimes. When both of us have some free time, which is rare, we walk to MG Road. There we see many girls, who look like Bollywood heroines. Maybe one day I will find a nice Maharashtrian girl like that, but she should not wear jeans.
I don't get to see many movies, but I regularly see advertisements and songs because some shops on the roads have these big televisions on their showcases. I also watch 20-20 cricket there. I saw World Cup also like this. But I couldn't see the last few overs because the shop had to be closed. But I knew we won because many boys outside my chawl were bursting crackers and shouting all night. I went outside and walked a little bit that night, everyone was happy. I also was happy. But I was also thinking about all the garbage from the crackers that would have to be picked the next day.
I live on the terrace of my chawl and often stare at the sky. When I was a boy, we could see many stars, but now because of the smoke of all these cars I can't count more than sixteen. My aim is to buy a cycle within one year, and cycles don't give out smoke, so I won't be adding to the smoke. Ganpat says that I should want more and pray for better things in life. Only then I will become rich and have a room of my own in the chawl.
I can't tell him this, but I don't want all those things. I'm happy like this. I have a job. That job gives me enough money to buy food everyday and put some money in the tin box. Sometimes people see me and move away, but some people appreciate the work I do, I feel happy when someone appreciates me. I give chanda for Ganpati every year. Once I saw a man trying to beg for money near the station, he wore torn clothes and looked very thin. He had come from Konkan region a few days ago, lost his bag and did not know what to do. I felt sad for him and asked to come and join me in my job, he reluctantly agreed. I somehow convinced Patil sahib saying that he was my relative, I know I lied but it will help someone so its ok. He now earns 83 rupees everyday, he thanks me everytime he meets me. I feel proud that I helped someone, I think I will get some punya because of this act. I think I will tell Ganpat that earning punya is more important than money. Maybe he won't laugh at my ambitions then.
Vada pav - Maharashtrian snack
Chai - Tea
Chawl - A mansion with many single rooms rented out to different families
Tai - sister
Aai - mother
Chanda - donation for festivals
Sahib - Sir, means of addressing someone respectfully
Punya - good deed
PS:This was not entirely a work of fiction
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
A Forgotten Home
He had done stints in Mumbai, Hyderabad, Bangalore and Pune for many years now. Marriage, a lovely daughter and strenuous projects had kept him wrapped in a tiny cocoon. His parents visited him often, he never let them stay more than a week. He had a funny explanation for that, he always said that he had become a creature of habit and that they didn't fit into the scheme of things. They didn't mind, they loved him to death, they were glad their son and his family were doing well.
He had setup his employer's Mumbai office. He was their star. He loved being in the spotlight for them, he defended them untiringly on many occasions in the face of dire litigations. He had given his weekdays to his work, and his weekend to his wife and child. It was always what he dreamt of, when he walked those cobbled, tree-lined roads of his business school.
But as in all stories, this one had its shady characters too. While he was busy giving it his all, there was this man, lets call him Mr.Shady . He plotted, with a few dim-witted colleagues to whom he offered key positions, to usurp the Mumbai office from our protagonist. A plot was hatched, large amounts of money were illegitimately transfered, and cutting a long story short, an honest man was framed. The top bosses naturally looked for scapegoat,and he was their easiest way out of a huge media debacle.
He felt quite disoriented at what had happened. Its like that feeling of moving on a fast boat and suddenly being jettisoned into the water. You don't quite know how to react, but your instincts atleast tell you to swim ashore, and thats what he tried to do, prove his innocence. His friends, who had vociferously tried to state his case in the board meeting had but one choice. To help the man that they admired, recuperate and maybe fight back.
The wife and daughter were on put on a flight to Chennai, a few days earlier. He left after that fateful day. He arrived in Chennai, to the chaos of the airport that he remembered distinctly from his flying visits to city for meetings in the last few years.
But this time it was to be different, he told himself. As the cabbie pulled closer to his ancestral home in Mylapore, he was quite surprised at how much the city had changed. Where was the Madras that he had left behind ? The political slogans on the walls now made way for wonder murals from the rural landscape and Tamil literature. All the roads were flanked by magnificent posters and hoardings. The buildings all bore smart signs of multinational and big local brands. The old British names of most roads still remained. He liked that. A huge number of new snazzy restaurants had popped up. It was almost a different city.
Secretly he wondered, what all he might have missed in his days out of Madras. He reached home in the wee hours of the morning. When most cities look at their gorgeous best, the orange splendour of the rising sun, the cool air that lingers and the few people that are scampering about doing their morning chores. That being said, Chennai was an early riser.
The ghosts of the last few weeks had taken their toll, he resembled a man who had come back from a war, a war that his side had lost. The wife and child were still asleep. He left his bags near the bed, and decided to head out to have filter kaapi (coffee) at one of the many stalls on the main road which were crooning Ilayaraja songs from the 80s, a sound that he could easily relate to. Now this seemed more familiar territory to him.
The grand Kapaleeshwarar temple that stood over the area of Mylapore unflinching and majestic for centuries now, still instilled in him the peace & calm that it did during his quick pitstops at the temple during his examination days. He decided to take a trip down memory lane, quite literally. He quickly went home, asked his neighbour if he could borrow his Hero Honda Splendor, which the neighbour, a family friend for many years obliged with a smile while warning him of the bad brakes. He nodded and in his excitement, zoomed off. He quickly made his way to what can be only be described as something that everyone who ever visited Chennai would relate to, the Marina beach. The Marina beach brought back a great many memories to him. This is where he had first discovered his talent as a batsman. This is where he had first brought the girl he had a liking towards for a walk and some cut maanga. The place had been through a major makeover, it was now a swanky promenade, and there were people old and young going about their morning walks.
He took a turn at the Ice House junction and headed for the bylanes of Triplicane. Triplicane was where his closest friend from his college days ,Ram lived. This is where most of the "combined studies" sessions happened. Triplicane, it seemed to him, had frozen in time. The bylanes were still narrow. The buildings were still cramped. The cows still took first right to stray along the roads. He felt a little disgust with himself not keeping in touch with Ram and wondered where he could be.
He drove past the Zam Bazaar market & the road took him to Bells Road and Chepauk. Ah ! Chepauk, how many test matches had he begged his father to take him to, before finally the dream came true on his 15th birthday. He remembered the entire match very vividly and made a mental note to himself to thank his father as soon as he reached home.
He quickly remembered that Ratna Cafe was also nearby, so turned out and headed there since he felt some hunger pangs setting in. He ordered some idlis, and looked around as everyone seemed to be busy conversing in hushed tones. As he sat there, waiting for his idlis to arrive, a flurry of thoughts rushed through his head.
His work had kept him occupied for so many years. Apart from that his wife and child were the only things he thought of. What he might have missed in over a decade he could not imagine. But the early morning trip down memory lane made him realise that things were not that bad. Yes, he was screwed by a company that he had given a good ten years to. Yes, he was unemployed and disgraced. But he was in familiar land, among familiar people. People who knew who he was and would support him through everything. He decided to start life afresh. The meeker side of him held him from fighting back against the big bad corporation, but the Forgotten Home seemed to give him strength.
And as history would have it, he fought back and successfully at that. But success had a whole new meaning to him now.
Mylapore - A locality in Chennai, known to be a cultural hub for many centuries.
Cut Maanga - Slices of Raw mango with some chilli powder sprinkled on them, a snack often sold on the beaches in Chennai
He had setup his employer's Mumbai office. He was their star. He loved being in the spotlight for them, he defended them untiringly on many occasions in the face of dire litigations. He had given his weekdays to his work, and his weekend to his wife and child. It was always what he dreamt of, when he walked those cobbled, tree-lined roads of his business school.
But as in all stories, this one had its shady characters too. While he was busy giving it his all, there was this man, lets call him Mr.Shady . He plotted, with a few dim-witted colleagues to whom he offered key positions, to usurp the Mumbai office from our protagonist. A plot was hatched, large amounts of money were illegitimately transfered, and cutting a long story short, an honest man was framed. The top bosses naturally looked for scapegoat,and he was their easiest way out of a huge media debacle.
He felt quite disoriented at what had happened. Its like that feeling of moving on a fast boat and suddenly being jettisoned into the water. You don't quite know how to react, but your instincts atleast tell you to swim ashore, and thats what he tried to do, prove his innocence. His friends, who had vociferously tried to state his case in the board meeting had but one choice. To help the man that they admired, recuperate and maybe fight back.
The wife and daughter were on put on a flight to Chennai, a few days earlier. He left after that fateful day. He arrived in Chennai, to the chaos of the airport that he remembered distinctly from his flying visits to city for meetings in the last few years.
But this time it was to be different, he told himself. As the cabbie pulled closer to his ancestral home in Mylapore, he was quite surprised at how much the city had changed. Where was the Madras that he had left behind ? The political slogans on the walls now made way for wonder murals from the rural landscape and Tamil literature. All the roads were flanked by magnificent posters and hoardings. The buildings all bore smart signs of multinational and big local brands. The old British names of most roads still remained. He liked that. A huge number of new snazzy restaurants had popped up. It was almost a different city.
Secretly he wondered, what all he might have missed in his days out of Madras. He reached home in the wee hours of the morning. When most cities look at their gorgeous best, the orange splendour of the rising sun, the cool air that lingers and the few people that are scampering about doing their morning chores. That being said, Chennai was an early riser.
The ghosts of the last few weeks had taken their toll, he resembled a man who had come back from a war, a war that his side had lost. The wife and child were still asleep. He left his bags near the bed, and decided to head out to have filter kaapi (coffee) at one of the many stalls on the main road which were crooning Ilayaraja songs from the 80s, a sound that he could easily relate to. Now this seemed more familiar territory to him.
The grand Kapaleeshwarar temple that stood over the area of Mylapore unflinching and majestic for centuries now, still instilled in him the peace & calm that it did during his quick pitstops at the temple during his examination days. He decided to take a trip down memory lane, quite literally. He quickly went home, asked his neighbour if he could borrow his Hero Honda Splendor, which the neighbour, a family friend for many years obliged with a smile while warning him of the bad brakes. He nodded and in his excitement, zoomed off. He quickly made his way to what can be only be described as something that everyone who ever visited Chennai would relate to, the Marina beach. The Marina beach brought back a great many memories to him. This is where he had first discovered his talent as a batsman. This is where he had first brought the girl he had a liking towards for a walk and some cut maanga. The place had been through a major makeover, it was now a swanky promenade, and there were people old and young going about their morning walks.
He took a turn at the Ice House junction and headed for the bylanes of Triplicane. Triplicane was where his closest friend from his college days ,Ram lived. This is where most of the "combined studies" sessions happened. Triplicane, it seemed to him, had frozen in time. The bylanes were still narrow. The buildings were still cramped. The cows still took first right to stray along the roads. He felt a little disgust with himself not keeping in touch with Ram and wondered where he could be.
He drove past the Zam Bazaar market & the road took him to Bells Road and Chepauk. Ah ! Chepauk, how many test matches had he begged his father to take him to, before finally the dream came true on his 15th birthday. He remembered the entire match very vividly and made a mental note to himself to thank his father as soon as he reached home.
He quickly remembered that Ratna Cafe was also nearby, so turned out and headed there since he felt some hunger pangs setting in. He ordered some idlis, and looked around as everyone seemed to be busy conversing in hushed tones. As he sat there, waiting for his idlis to arrive, a flurry of thoughts rushed through his head.
His work had kept him occupied for so many years. Apart from that his wife and child were the only things he thought of. What he might have missed in over a decade he could not imagine. But the early morning trip down memory lane made him realise that things were not that bad. Yes, he was screwed by a company that he had given a good ten years to. Yes, he was unemployed and disgraced. But he was in familiar land, among familiar people. People who knew who he was and would support him through everything. He decided to start life afresh. The meeker side of him held him from fighting back against the big bad corporation, but the Forgotten Home seemed to give him strength.
And as history would have it, he fought back and successfully at that. But success had a whole new meaning to him now.
Mylapore - A locality in Chennai, known to be a cultural hub for many centuries.
Cut Maanga - Slices of Raw mango with some chilli powder sprinkled on them, a snack often sold on the beaches in Chennai
Monday, March 21, 2011
Today, is this how life will be ?
Today, we have a million dreams
But not enough time, to chase after them.
Today, we have technology that makes the planet a smaller place
But where are the people that really matter.
Today, we don't need eighty days to go around the world
But where are the adventures and strange lands that once excited many explorers.
Today, we have the financial means
But where is a justifiable end.
Today, we have swanky big houses
But what has happened to the space in our hearts.
Today, we live lives of comfort and luxury
But still manage the ailmemts that our grandparents never even knew.
Today, we have those plasma screen televisions to watch sporting tournaments
But when was the last time you screamed your lungs off at a stadium.
Today, is this how life will be I ask
But obviously no answer will come.
But not enough time, to chase after them.
Today, we have technology that makes the planet a smaller place
But where are the people that really matter.
Today, we don't need eighty days to go around the world
But where are the adventures and strange lands that once excited many explorers.
Today, we have the financial means
But where is a justifiable end.
Today, we have swanky big houses
But what has happened to the space in our hearts.
Today, we live lives of comfort and luxury
But still manage the ailmemts that our grandparents never even knew.
Today, we have those plasma screen televisions to watch sporting tournaments
But when was the last time you screamed your lungs off at a stadium.
Today, is this how life will be I ask
But obviously no answer will come.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
And he declared War ... on mediocre cinema
I have been seeing some very clever cinema in the last few months, but this one has forced me to come out of movie-critic retirement. It just forces one to stand up and take notice, both in terms of pure film making quality and in terms of what lies ahead for audiences to devour on the Indian screen.
Yudham Sei by Mysskin is an intense, gripping, irregular but relevant movie. It feels like an unputdownable book despite being quite slow paced in the first half. With a plotline about the enormous capacity of male perversion and stellar performances with no real superstars in the movie, it made for fantasy cinema, in my humble opinion of course.
There won't be any spoilers in this blog, I will more specifically talk about the movie watching experience. You will be thrilled if you are one of those people who relishes clever writing. The first half is quite haphazard and gives you only a few pieces of the puzzle and leaves you begging for the intermission to get over real fast. There are very few scenes which I would call over the top, except for the otherwise stoic Cheran flooring 8 rowdy-types with just a knife from a nail cutter.
The Neetu Chandra number is unnecessary but I guess it does fit into the script, and maybe Mysskin felt to just take his foot of the pedal just before the climax of the movie.
Acting is top notch. Cheran does his role to the T, I really cannot picture anyone else who could have pulled it off. On hindsight, maybe one really can't for any brilliantly portrayed roles. But in my opinion, it was Y. Gee Mahendran, Lakshmi & Jayaprakash (Dr.Judas) who really grab at your heart. The old couple tonsured heads and all make for a frightening last few minutes.
There are two particular sequences in the movie that I totally loved. The dying words of Dr.Judas, where he says to JK - " They came at us, a family with no inclination towards violence with their power, illegitimate, political and financial ; pushed us into a corner. They chased us till we could run. With their limited mental capacities if they can commit such crimes and get away with it, imagine what we with our intelligence are capable of. Now we will do the chasing. They can do the running."
The other clever reference to Mysskin's inpiration - "Rashomon" through Cheran is subtly hidden in the conversation, should make the Kurosawa fans smile.
My advice - Take your brain to this movie, enjoy the puzzle solving process with the protagonists of the movie and do not miss a minute of it.
Intelligent plotlines seem to be the flavour of the season after Aadukalam & Yeh Saali Zindagi. Maybe they will not fare as well as their blockbuster counterparts from the respective industries, but I'm sure that a Sudhir Mishra or a Mysskin will be remembered, or for the fanatics like me REVERED in the generations to come.
Yudham Sei by Mysskin is an intense, gripping, irregular but relevant movie. It feels like an unputdownable book despite being quite slow paced in the first half. With a plotline about the enormous capacity of male perversion and stellar performances with no real superstars in the movie, it made for fantasy cinema, in my humble opinion of course.
There won't be any spoilers in this blog, I will more specifically talk about the movie watching experience. You will be thrilled if you are one of those people who relishes clever writing. The first half is quite haphazard and gives you only a few pieces of the puzzle and leaves you begging for the intermission to get over real fast. There are very few scenes which I would call over the top, except for the otherwise stoic Cheran flooring 8 rowdy-types with just a knife from a nail cutter.
The Neetu Chandra number is unnecessary but I guess it does fit into the script, and maybe Mysskin felt to just take his foot of the pedal just before the climax of the movie.
Acting is top notch. Cheran does his role to the T, I really cannot picture anyone else who could have pulled it off. On hindsight, maybe one really can't for any brilliantly portrayed roles. But in my opinion, it was Y. Gee Mahendran, Lakshmi & Jayaprakash (Dr.Judas) who really grab at your heart. The old couple tonsured heads and all make for a frightening last few minutes.
There are two particular sequences in the movie that I totally loved. The dying words of Dr.Judas, where he says to JK - " They came at us, a family with no inclination towards violence with their power, illegitimate, political and financial ; pushed us into a corner. They chased us till we could run. With their limited mental capacities if they can commit such crimes and get away with it, imagine what we with our intelligence are capable of. Now we will do the chasing. They can do the running."
The other clever reference to Mysskin's inpiration - "Rashomon" through Cheran is subtly hidden in the conversation, should make the Kurosawa fans smile.
My advice - Take your brain to this movie, enjoy the puzzle solving process with the protagonists of the movie and do not miss a minute of it.
Intelligent plotlines seem to be the flavour of the season after Aadukalam & Yeh Saali Zindagi. Maybe they will not fare as well as their blockbuster counterparts from the respective industries, but I'm sure that a Sudhir Mishra or a Mysskin will be remembered, or for the fanatics like me REVERED in the generations to come.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Just Another Victim
He was lying there on the hard tar road. The hot sun dazed his blurred vision. He couldn't feel his legs, he thought. People were running past, but no one stopped to help him. He could figure out that the dark viscous fluid on his forehead was blood. His thoughts numbed as he tried to lift himself. He succeeded in dragging himself to the edge of the road. As he collapsed, along the footpath beneath the shade of a tree, he realised his senses slowly blacking out.
What is past is prologue !
He left his home on the outskirts of Warangal at the age of 17 to get a degree in Engineering. He had done well academically throughout his life and could speak decent English despite being educated in a Telugu medium school. His parents dreamt that he would one day be the pride of the family and his brother often teased that all the village ammailu would queue up to marry him.
He was ragged. He was befriended. He was an excellent batsman. He helped out his friends in those last ditch efforts to save the backlogs from accumulating. He discovered new things in the big city, but was never overwhelmed by them.
He fell in love. She was his classmate. It wasn't the kind of romance from the Telugu films he often told her. They wanted it to last.
It had been almost three years after leaving Warangal, he now felt at home in the single room that he shared with 2 others at Tarnaka. It was an exciting day. He was going to meet her parents. It was just the way he wanted to this to go forward. He adored her and she adored him back. He knew the urban parents would probably be easier to face than his parents back home.
His friends warned him of the dangers of going out that afternoon. He smiled and trotted off with a spring in his step. He realised that all was not normal & that maybe his friends were right. But life had to go on, he avoided the rioting crowds and walked towards the bus stop. Anxiously he hopped on a bus that was headed towards the station, because the bus to Begumpet was taking too long to come.
He hastily typed an sms on the Nokia that he had bought with the money from the paper presentation he had won, when *crash*. The glass of the window next to him splintered. The stone from the miscreants struck him on the head with a force that knocked him off his seat. An elderly gentleman behind him, held his hand and guided him off the bus which emptied in seconds. The old man was beaten, he felt helpless as he was pushed aside. He felt weak and dizzy. A White Sedan was speedily trying to escape the scene. It struck him as he wandered into its path. He remembered the feeling of being thrown many feet into the air. And then there was blackness.
The movement had knowingly or unknowingly taken another life.
What is past is prologue !
He left his home on the outskirts of Warangal at the age of 17 to get a degree in Engineering. He had done well academically throughout his life and could speak decent English despite being educated in a Telugu medium school. His parents dreamt that he would one day be the pride of the family and his brother often teased that all the village ammailu would queue up to marry him.
He was ragged. He was befriended. He was an excellent batsman. He helped out his friends in those last ditch efforts to save the backlogs from accumulating. He discovered new things in the big city, but was never overwhelmed by them.
He fell in love. She was his classmate. It wasn't the kind of romance from the Telugu films he often told her. They wanted it to last.
It had been almost three years after leaving Warangal, he now felt at home in the single room that he shared with 2 others at Tarnaka. It was an exciting day. He was going to meet her parents. It was just the way he wanted to this to go forward. He adored her and she adored him back. He knew the urban parents would probably be easier to face than his parents back home.
His friends warned him of the dangers of going out that afternoon. He smiled and trotted off with a spring in his step. He realised that all was not normal & that maybe his friends were right. But life had to go on, he avoided the rioting crowds and walked towards the bus stop. Anxiously he hopped on a bus that was headed towards the station, because the bus to Begumpet was taking too long to come.
He hastily typed an sms on the Nokia that he had bought with the money from the paper presentation he had won, when *crash*. The glass of the window next to him splintered. The stone from the miscreants struck him on the head with a force that knocked him off his seat. An elderly gentleman behind him, held his hand and guided him off the bus which emptied in seconds. The old man was beaten, he felt helpless as he was pushed aside. He felt weak and dizzy. A White Sedan was speedily trying to escape the scene. It struck him as he wandered into its path. He remembered the feeling of being thrown many feet into the air. And then there was blackness.
The movement had knowingly or unknowingly taken another life.
"Trust me, it's paradise. This is where the hungry come to feed. For mine is a generation that circles the globe in search of something you haven't tried before. So never refuse an invitation, never resist the unfamiliar, never fail to be polite and never outstay your welcome. Just keep your mind open and suck in the experience. And if it hurts...you know what? It's probably worth it."
-Leonardo DiCaprio (The Beach, 2000)
If you loved the quote from Trainspotting. I'm sure this will also appeal to you on some level.
If you loved the quote from Trainspotting. I'm sure this will also appeal to you on some level.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
The Punekar
The Punekar article about the Pune International Film Festival. Some awesome movies to look out for.
Monday, January 03, 2011
The Year That Was
The train ride last night didn't give me enough sleep. So this can be what you would call a "sleep-deprived" post. But here are a few fond moments from the last year.
January - Madras with Chari, the restaurant on ECR & his house bang opposite the Parthasarathy Temple, Siva's place at Pondicherry diagonally opposite Bharathidasan's house & the ancient movie theatre.
February - First time in Pune, New home, New Workplace, Lots of Firsts.
March - More Pune exploring #PMPML & by foot.
April - Implemented first big project at Work.
May - Did NITIE for the last time as a student, said lots of goodbyes too.
June - Mad rains in Bombay. Sales stints in Raigad & Ahmedabad. Worst month of the year, with some real mentally disturbing stuff happening.
July - Miracles do happen,Sales stint was cut short ; came back to Pune. Started work on a super project
August - First party with NITIE junta at Elevate. Slowly discovered late night bike rides in the Pune rains.
September - Starting playing Football in the mornings, was super.
October - Played the Corporate 5s tournament, got screwed but enjoyed every bit of it. Explored Marathi Tamasha & Naatak.
November - Made my first big investment in life - A108. Visited Shanghai, Suzhou - loved every bit of the trip.
December - Susheela Raman's powerful performance at NH7 Weekender. Polka Dots, Aundh. A taste of the good old days at Hyderabad with some awesome friends.
Lets hope 2011 lives up to its predecessor.
January - Madras with Chari, the restaurant on ECR & his house bang opposite the Parthasarathy Temple, Siva's place at Pondicherry diagonally opposite Bharathidasan's house & the ancient movie theatre.
February - First time in Pune, New home, New Workplace, Lots of Firsts.
March - More Pune exploring #PMPML & by foot.
April - Implemented first big project at Work.
May - Did NITIE for the last time as a student, said lots of goodbyes too.
June - Mad rains in Bombay. Sales stints in Raigad & Ahmedabad. Worst month of the year, with some real mentally disturbing stuff happening.
July - Miracles do happen,Sales stint was cut short ; came back to Pune. Started work on a super project
August - First party with NITIE junta at Elevate. Slowly discovered late night bike rides in the Pune rains.
September - Starting playing Football in the mornings, was super.
October - Played the Corporate 5s tournament, got screwed but enjoyed every bit of it. Explored Marathi Tamasha & Naatak.
November - Made my first big investment in life - A108. Visited Shanghai, Suzhou - loved every bit of the trip.
December - Susheela Raman's powerful performance at NH7 Weekender. Polka Dots, Aundh. A taste of the good old days at Hyderabad with some awesome friends.
Lets hope 2011 lives up to its predecessor.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Must find time
I'm planning a super mega post on "THE YEAR THAT WAS" and don't seem to find. 2 days in December left to go. Must..find..time !!
Monday, November 29, 2010
A Modern version of the Orient
One of the fringe benefits of working for a multinational is the fact that, there is the international trip that happens once in a while. Although it was purely for business purposes, it would have been unlikely of me if I didn't make an adventure of it.
So here I was all alone, as I nervously stepped out on foggy afternoon at Pudong International Airport braving an 18 degree chill. Got into one of the snazzy Volkswagen taxis which were to be my conveyance of choice for the next week & headed off to the Wyndham Grand. As the name suggests it was a grand place with all that came with any other standard 5 star hotel.
The week there involved shuttling between Shanghai & the city of Suzhou where our factory is located. Suzhou is exceptionally beautiful considering that it is what we call a Tier 2 city. Jinji Lake at night can be quite spectacular with a colour changing ferris wheel at the distance. I plan to visit the Lingering Garden on my next visit there
Shanghai is a walker's delight. I would like to thank Tony Luo, Lingling Gao & Takeshi Kitamura for hanging out with me on the first night out on the town. I did all that could be done on foot.
The magnificent Bund, on the Huangpu river with the skyline of the Liu Jia Zui Financial District that could give any skyline a run for its money. The brilliant imperial buildings now converted in headquarters of banks or showrooms for luxury brands. Keep an eye out for almost every luxury brand that you might have heard of to have a showroom in Shanghai.Other significant things more to my liking were the Peace Hotel, legend has it this hotel was used for espionage during the World War II era.
You will also find a single statue of Mao & a few hundred metres the financial bull that one can find on Wall Street and now even on Dalal Street. It truly is a place of contradictions where ideology does not necessarily impede growth. Then a short walk from there will take you to Nanjing Road, a pedestrian area mainly for shopping. The bright lights will dazzle your senses, but beware of the hawkers who peddle everything from fake iphones to "ladyfuck".
Xin Tian Di, an area exclusively for bars and restaurants, is also the site of the first ever congress of the Communist party of China. It has everything from outdoor coffee shops to German brewhouses to Italian pizzerias. A great place to walk around, and it also boasts of a great shopping experience in the neighbourhoods nearby. Other notable places for shopping are the AP plaza near the Science and Technology Museum & Huahui Road.
Another fantastic experience is the Maglev train. I had the chance to get on one of them to go to the airport. It touches speeds of over 300 kmph and gets you to the airport in 8 mins which is around 50 kms away.
Food is an issue if you're a strict vegetarian like me, but only good can come after eating a few meals with boiled vegetables and rice. Thankfully there are a few dishes that will come to one's rescue namely - OU(藕）、DOUMIAO(豆苗）、RUOBO(萝卜).
(Spelling & Pronounciation Courtesy - Lingling)
The honesty and the work ethic of the Chinese is clearly something that is commendable and that is responsible for their present position in the international business scene.The sights and sounds of a modern fast growing China will always be afresh in my memories for a long time to come.
My only regret is that I didn't get to experience much of the traditional China, but that will be dealt with on my next trip, I hope.
Will probably Phlog or Picasa most of the photographs. So ping me or leave a comment with your email id incase you are interested.
So here I was all alone, as I nervously stepped out on foggy afternoon at Pudong International Airport braving an 18 degree chill. Got into one of the snazzy Volkswagen taxis which were to be my conveyance of choice for the next week & headed off to the Wyndham Grand. As the name suggests it was a grand place with all that came with any other standard 5 star hotel.
The week there involved shuttling between Shanghai & the city of Suzhou where our factory is located. Suzhou is exceptionally beautiful considering that it is what we call a Tier 2 city. Jinji Lake at night can be quite spectacular with a colour changing ferris wheel at the distance. I plan to visit the Lingering Garden on my next visit there
Shanghai is a walker's delight. I would like to thank Tony Luo, Lingling Gao & Takeshi Kitamura for hanging out with me on the first night out on the town. I did all that could be done on foot.
The magnificent Bund, on the Huangpu river with the skyline of the Liu Jia Zui Financial District that could give any skyline a run for its money. The brilliant imperial buildings now converted in headquarters of banks or showrooms for luxury brands. Keep an eye out for almost every luxury brand that you might have heard of to have a showroom in Shanghai.Other significant things more to my liking were the Peace Hotel, legend has it this hotel was used for espionage during the World War II era.
You will also find a single statue of Mao & a few hundred metres the financial bull that one can find on Wall Street and now even on Dalal Street. It truly is a place of contradictions where ideology does not necessarily impede growth. Then a short walk from there will take you to Nanjing Road, a pedestrian area mainly for shopping. The bright lights will dazzle your senses, but beware of the hawkers who peddle everything from fake iphones to "ladyfuck".
Xin Tian Di, an area exclusively for bars and restaurants, is also the site of the first ever congress of the Communist party of China. It has everything from outdoor coffee shops to German brewhouses to Italian pizzerias. A great place to walk around, and it also boasts of a great shopping experience in the neighbourhoods nearby. Other notable places for shopping are the AP plaza near the Science and Technology Museum & Huahui Road.
Another fantastic experience is the Maglev train. I had the chance to get on one of them to go to the airport. It touches speeds of over 300 kmph and gets you to the airport in 8 mins which is around 50 kms away.
Food is an issue if you're a strict vegetarian like me, but only good can come after eating a few meals with boiled vegetables and rice. Thankfully there are a few dishes that will come to one's rescue namely - OU(藕）、DOUMIAO(豆苗）、RUOBO(萝卜).
(Spelling & Pronounciation Courtesy - Lingling)
The honesty and the work ethic of the Chinese is clearly something that is commendable and that is responsible for their present position in the international business scene.The sights and sounds of a modern fast growing China will always be afresh in my memories for a long time to come.
My only regret is that I didn't get to experience much of the traditional China, but that will be dealt with on my next trip, I hope.
Will probably Phlog or Picasa most of the photographs. So ping me or leave a comment with your email id incase you are interested.
Friday, November 19, 2010
It happened one night
One of them got back quite late from work. The other was waiting for the power to come back on. Both hadn't eaten. So they decided to go to one of those "late night- roadside-edible but hot food" places close to home.
So the piping hot pav bhaji came, and so did some not great but equally hot coffee. The rain had started off again meanwhile. Some pretty girls came and sat next to the table beside them. SD Burman, Manna Dey & Mohammad Rafi were putting on quite a show on the radio that night.
As the minutes passed by, the thrashing of the raindrops on the asbestos roof got stronger and sunk Rafi's voice into a minute moan. The empty tables on the roadside which were unoccupied rattled for a bit before flying away atleast a 100 metres. The raindrops were now hurtling towards us at a variety of angles.
One of them panicked a little bit, there was no power, trees were being pushed down by the strong hydraulic waves that came from the skies. The customers, the waiter and the cook were now huddled into a small room with a shutter now. The cigarette smoke & the coffee cups seemed to be the only source of warmth as the mercury dipped.
Flashes of lightning whips could be seen from the corner of one's eye. The Thunder claps were remnant of being next to the speakers in one of those rock concerts. Deafening.
The wind subsided. They ran back into the comfort of their concrete homes. It was an intense night. One that definitely deserved to be documented.
So the piping hot pav bhaji came, and so did some not great but equally hot coffee. The rain had started off again meanwhile. Some pretty girls came and sat next to the table beside them. SD Burman, Manna Dey & Mohammad Rafi were putting on quite a show on the radio that night.
As the minutes passed by, the thrashing of the raindrops on the asbestos roof got stronger and sunk Rafi's voice into a minute moan. The empty tables on the roadside which were unoccupied rattled for a bit before flying away atleast a 100 metres. The raindrops were now hurtling towards us at a variety of angles.
One of them panicked a little bit, there was no power, trees were being pushed down by the strong hydraulic waves that came from the skies. The customers, the waiter and the cook were now huddled into a small room with a shutter now. The cigarette smoke & the coffee cups seemed to be the only source of warmth as the mercury dipped.
Flashes of lightning whips could be seen from the corner of one's eye. The Thunder claps were remnant of being next to the speakers in one of those rock concerts. Deafening.
The wind subsided. They ran back into the comfort of their concrete homes. It was an intense night. One that definitely deserved to be documented.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
A smorgasbord of cultures
So I've been exploring a lot of Marathi Culture in Pune which actually gives you a better oppurtunity of doing so, rather than its cosmopolitan big brother Bombay.But of course this post is not some sort of social commentary on either of the cities.
Its more about how things that we see as alien to one another are actually quite alike. I am what you would call a Madrasi . I probably fit the colloquial definition of a Madrasi as told to me by one of my Bombay-bred friends apart from the Lungi wearing part. A Madrasi is technically anyone south of Maharasthra, he may also be referred to as Anna. But most Telugus, Kannadigas & Malayalis are often quick to react upon the use of this term to correct the user that they are actually from a different state. But I for one am comfortable with the term, born in Mylapore, bred in Ameerpet (till I finished my Engineering), then spending early days of manhood in Powai, before finally moving to Nigdi to make something of myself, its been quite a ride.
But what it has done is, it has made me culturally sensitive. Having parents who were strictly grounded to their roots made sure that I was well versed with Tamil Culture. The friends I have from Hyderabad, made sure that a Telugu gentleman was also bred in me. The folks at Pune are now watching the Maratha in me bloom.
Proof of this is the fact that I have started listening to loads of Marathi music from the late 80s (I love that era fyi). I am in love with Misal Pav & I have added Archana Joglekar to the ideal partner list after - Shobana ,Revathi ,Gayatri Joshi & Amala.
So the next time you find me making racist jokes, you know its because of my love for the plethora of peoples in our country rather than my contempt for them. Maharashtra boasts of great theatre scene due to their tamasha traditions, apart from boasting of great singers like the Mangeshkar family and Suresh Wadkar. Of course, they could do without all the "armies" that they have, but if you looked at it from the eyes of an optimist, you could tell that some of them really think that their culture would get diluted and cease to exist, beats me, but I'd like to think that I'm a puritan in some ways too(I hated it that the IPL had better ratings than test cricket & I also hate that single screens are disappearing one per day). Despite my love for Bombay, I hate the crowds and the insanity of the inter city travel. Sometimes I like to imagine what it would have been to live in the Bombay of the 70s or 80s before the multitudes were here.
Now playing - Kevha Tari Pahate from Nivdung
Its more about how things that we see as alien to one another are actually quite alike. I am what you would call a Madrasi . I probably fit the colloquial definition of a Madrasi as told to me by one of my Bombay-bred friends apart from the Lungi wearing part. A Madrasi is technically anyone south of Maharasthra, he may also be referred to as Anna. But most Telugus, Kannadigas & Malayalis are often quick to react upon the use of this term to correct the user that they are actually from a different state. But I for one am comfortable with the term, born in Mylapore, bred in Ameerpet (till I finished my Engineering), then spending early days of manhood in Powai, before finally moving to Nigdi to make something of myself, its been quite a ride.
But what it has done is, it has made me culturally sensitive. Having parents who were strictly grounded to their roots made sure that I was well versed with Tamil Culture. The friends I have from Hyderabad, made sure that a Telugu gentleman was also bred in me. The folks at Pune are now watching the Maratha in me bloom.
Proof of this is the fact that I have started listening to loads of Marathi music from the late 80s (I love that era fyi). I am in love with Misal Pav & I have added Archana Joglekar to the ideal partner list after - Shobana ,Revathi ,Gayatri Joshi & Amala.
So the next time you find me making racist jokes, you know its because of my love for the plethora of peoples in our country rather than my contempt for them. Maharashtra boasts of great theatre scene due to their tamasha traditions, apart from boasting of great singers like the Mangeshkar family and Suresh Wadkar. Of course, they could do without all the "armies" that they have, but if you looked at it from the eyes of an optimist, you could tell that some of them really think that their culture would get diluted and cease to exist, beats me, but I'd like to think that I'm a puritan in some ways too(I hated it that the IPL had better ratings than test cricket & I also hate that single screens are disappearing one per day). Despite my love for Bombay, I hate the crowds and the insanity of the inter city travel. Sometimes I like to imagine what it would have been to live in the Bombay of the 70s or 80s before the multitudes were here.
Now playing - Kevha Tari Pahate from Nivdung
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
October - Not my most favourite month
October is here. Its not been my most favourite month in the last few years for a variety of reasons which I do not want to recollect. Unfortunately or Fortunately, I am one of those people who uses discretionary amnesia as a tool for happiness in life.
But thankfully I do not have too many complaints for this month. In a conversation with someone, the someone happened to remark about me dreaming too much. I said of course, remember The Designer Mug.
I often feel like the kid in the bench next to window. I know everyone says that they were last benchers for the coolness of it, but I was a strict window bench person. High School, Junior College, Engineering and whenever I had a chance during NITIE, I was always the occupant of the window seat. I guess childhood habits die hard, I still have a desk next to a huge window at work. Of course the view isn't too fancy, the vista has utilities and the never ending sky. But windows are windows all the same.
In other news, I picked up two books on a trip to find awesome Misal Pav in pune. Bought "The Immortals of Meluha" by Amish Tripathi & " A collection of Short stories " by Kipling. Reviews of that will follow in a while. I'm halfway through the Indian adventure book which is quite a pageturner actually.
Also started watching this awesome series called Spartacus: Blood & Sand, which is a 300 meets Gladiator concept made into series. R rated for sure, not for the weak-hearted. Good plotline, and plenty of grey shaded characters.
Now playing on loop : Idhu Enna Mayam - Oram Po. #Brilliant song
But thankfully I do not have too many complaints for this month. In a conversation with someone, the someone happened to remark about me dreaming too much. I said of course, remember The Designer Mug.
I often feel like the kid in the bench next to window. I know everyone says that they were last benchers for the coolness of it, but I was a strict window bench person. High School, Junior College, Engineering and whenever I had a chance during NITIE, I was always the occupant of the window seat. I guess childhood habits die hard, I still have a desk next to a huge window at work. Of course the view isn't too fancy, the vista has utilities and the never ending sky. But windows are windows all the same.
In other news, I picked up two books on a trip to find awesome Misal Pav in pune. Bought "The Immortals of Meluha" by Amish Tripathi & " A collection of Short stories " by Kipling. Reviews of that will follow in a while. I'm halfway through the Indian adventure book which is quite a pageturner actually.
Also started watching this awesome series called Spartacus: Blood & Sand, which is a 300 meets Gladiator concept made into series. R rated for sure, not for the weak-hearted. Good plotline, and plenty of grey shaded characters.
Now playing on loop : Idhu Enna Mayam - Oram Po. #Brilliant song
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Will these Rains end ?
I was cribbing about the endless rains to a friend. The friend asked me," But I thought you loved the rains? ". Yes I do, when I have a washing machine to wash and dry my clothes, hot coffee and good company to take a walk.
Recently,my complaints to the rain god have also been about one of my most favourite things in the world.
FOOTBALL
See I have this tournament coming up and finally convinced folks from the factory to come play football and a few of us are meeting up every morning before work. But then there is the little problem of the mud grounds that we have. Due to the rains, they become unruly and rugged. We need to legs with shock absorbers to play on those grounds.
On a tangential topic, recently read that Actor Murali passed away at the age of 46. My condolences to his family. But you the weird part, I was immediately reminded of the song "April Mayile" from his biggest hit Idhayam. To the non Tamil cinema follower let me explain the funny bit. Murali was an actor known to play soft romantic roles, case in point - the movie Idhayam.
The song I'm talking about is picturised on a couple of young Roadside Romeos in Madras (led by a young unrecognizable Prabhudeva) and talks about how all the pasumai (greenery referring to the young women) disappears in April May. Woo ! That went over most of your heads, Didn't it ?
Anyway, I need to get back to fantasizing about tomorrow's football session.
Football in the mornings = Getting back in shape = Sharp at work = Overall Good.
Recently,my complaints to the rain god have also been about one of my most favourite things in the world.
FOOTBALL
See I have this tournament coming up and finally convinced folks from the factory to come play football and a few of us are meeting up every morning before work. But then there is the little problem of the mud grounds that we have. Due to the rains, they become unruly and rugged. We need to legs with shock absorbers to play on those grounds.
On a tangential topic, recently read that Actor Murali passed away at the age of 46. My condolences to his family. But you the weird part, I was immediately reminded of the song "April Mayile" from his biggest hit Idhayam. To the non Tamil cinema follower let me explain the funny bit. Murali was an actor known to play soft romantic roles, case in point - the movie Idhayam.
The song I'm talking about is picturised on a couple of young Roadside Romeos in Madras (led by a young unrecognizable Prabhudeva) and talks about how all the pasumai (greenery referring to the young women) disappears in April May. Woo ! That went over most of your heads, Didn't it ?
Anyway, I need to get back to fantasizing about tomorrow's football session.
Football in the mornings = Getting back in shape = Sharp at work = Overall Good.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Same old Same old
Yes thats something I've been saying too often to too many people. Five days of the week are good, the daytimes keep me occupied, the nights are majorly for entertaining myself & well earned sleep.
As I might be mentioning for the three hundred and forty seventh time, weekends are cool too. Major activities include laundry,napping,TV,reading,Pune exploring and eating out.So they keep me quite busy too. But this post is not about my schedule now, is it.
Its true what they say you know,about the Devil taking over when you are idle and making your head his workshop and all that. I'm sure this would have come up somewhere earlier in this blog incase you've ever had the patience to skim through the older posts or better yet, if you have been a regular in this space.
The commute from Factory to Home and back just scares me, its free time, thats where the Blackberry comes in handy to keep oneself busy. Someone on facebook recently said something very profound, but true, that the key to happiness is a bad memory. That is something I have not been blessed with, but the courage to move on is something that I have imbibed. Thats how life works, right.
It throws shit your away, you maneuver around, use a few counter measures, evade and survive, we move on. But this is something that puzzles me, if we move on, it does not mean that we leave all the happy memories behind. Case in point being,my alma mater. I had immense fun, met some great people, learned so much and even owe where I am in life today to that place. But strangely,I do not yearn of it like so many others do. There could be many reasons to it, and I obviously am not going to sit and analyse them. Purpose of this post - To let everyone know, whatever happens, Forward is the only way to go. The past may guide us, but only the the Future will define us.
*Wow ! Good Line that - guiding and defining. Pats self on back*
As I might be mentioning for the three hundred and forty seventh time, weekends are cool too. Major activities include laundry,napping,TV,reading,Pune exploring and eating out.So they keep me quite busy too. But this post is not about my schedule now, is it.
Its true what they say you know,about the Devil taking over when you are idle and making your head his workshop and all that. I'm sure this would have come up somewhere earlier in this blog incase you've ever had the patience to skim through the older posts or better yet, if you have been a regular in this space.
The commute from Factory to Home and back just scares me, its free time, thats where the Blackberry comes in handy to keep oneself busy. Someone on facebook recently said something very profound, but true, that the key to happiness is a bad memory. That is something I have not been blessed with, but the courage to move on is something that I have imbibed. Thats how life works, right.
It throws shit your away, you maneuver around, use a few counter measures, evade and survive, we move on. But this is something that puzzles me, if we move on, it does not mean that we leave all the happy memories behind. Case in point being,my alma mater. I had immense fun, met some great people, learned so much and even owe where I am in life today to that place. But strangely,I do not yearn of it like so many others do. There could be many reasons to it, and I obviously am not going to sit and analyse them. Purpose of this post - To let everyone know, whatever happens, Forward is the only way to go. The past may guide us, but only the the Future will define us.
*Wow ! Good Line that - guiding and defining. Pats self on back*
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Fingerlickin' Good
What more can you ask for on a lazy Sunday morning. Pedro and I braved the rain to go have the most yummmazing breakfast in a long time. A gorgeous dosa with sexy molagapodi(chilli powder) and hot filter kaapi. It doesn't get any better than this ladies and gents. I think I'm so much in love with my breakfast today,that I don't think I want to corrupt the lingering taste by having lunch. So today I shall fast, until I get hungry again that is.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Comic Strip Relief
From NITIE to NIGDI, a new comic strip series from the inner cranium of blogger Aditya Narayanan recently took off on a Friday after some random incidents at his residence led him to the belief that his home is really fun place and that the little anecdotes from there that should be shared with the world.
The characters in the series are mainly based on the residents of the Nigdi Apartment, namely
Adi - The person creating this comic strip,often portrayed as a sarcastic, debonair yet bumbling personality.
Su - The dashing superhero character who is heavily influenced by Bollywood films but is supposedly innocent at heart.
Pedro - The funniest of the lot, naive and goodlooking, often ends up being the butt of the joke.
The Incredible Pulk - His burp is known to be scare the most majestic of lions, The Pulk is usually a friendly character and loves food.
Producers have revealed that other characters who are friends of the Nigdi quartet will also show up on special episodes. Shown below is Episode 2
You can find the series at :
http://www.stripcreator.com/comics/adityagn
Disclaimer: Those of you who do not know these characters might find the strip quite boring, so apologies. But someday, I will expand my horizons
The characters in the series are mainly based on the residents of the Nigdi Apartment, namely
Adi - The person creating this comic strip,often portrayed as a sarcastic, debonair yet bumbling personality.
Su - The dashing superhero character who is heavily influenced by Bollywood films but is supposedly innocent at heart.
Pedro - The funniest of the lot, naive and goodlooking, often ends up being the butt of the joke.
The Incredible Pulk - His burp is known to be scare the most majestic of lions, The Pulk is usually a friendly character and loves food.
Producers have revealed that other characters who are friends of the Nigdi quartet will also show up on special episodes. Shown below is Episode 2
You can find the series at :
http://www.stripcreator.com/comics/adityagn
Disclaimer: Those of you who do not know these characters might find the strip quite boring, so apologies. But someday, I will expand my horizons
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