AAL IIZ WELL!!

Rajkumar Hirani’s latest offering has definitely struck a chord with me and I’ll be damned if I’m alone. If it’s to be believed, 3 Idiots was released with maximum film prints in the history of Indian films and has grossed over 40 Crs in the first 4 days of its release!!

But what was it about this film or films like this that tug at your string? Was it Rancchoddas Shyamaldas Chanchad ‘s(Aamir) brutal starkness against the machines IIT’S produce every year, or was it the fact that we were all once a part of the grind? Was it Farhan’s(Madhavan) helplessness into his father’s dreams of being an engineer or was it the fact that we all still walk around with one such un-posted envelope in our hearts? Kisi ko fashion photographer, to kisi ko cabin crew, per le li degree aur ban gaye kuch aur. Some of us still haven’t figured out what we want to be, or what we would’ve been had we boarded that train. Somewhere we just accept that this is the journey we were meant to be on. Sometimes you want to get off at the next station to catch another train, but you really don’t know if it’s coming and that fear keeps you boarded to a destination you don’t know, but have learnt to understand.

Maybe it was just Raju (Sharman) holding a mirror to all our insecurities today in a quest to achieve a successful tomorrow. The fact that we tie ourselves down to appeasing a different god each day of the week, not realizing that the strength lies within. Even if we fail, it’s one thing out of the way.

3 idiots, is a story about the journey of three friends, the narrative style deserves commendation, a good effort after Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na. Their interface with the college, the system, their personal demons and the one human behavioral truth – ‘when your friends fail you feel bad, but when they super succeed you, you feel worse:)’

Post Rang De, I was really looking fwd to the chemistry between the 3 idiots and sure enough there was no room for disappointment, co-incidentally both films showed a special camaraderie between Aamir and Sharman’s character. Hope there’s more in the offering. Kareena Kapoor has maintained consistency, but it was a pleasure to see Mona Singh acting after so long. Hope the girl can finally break out of her jinx of ‘anchoring only’ . Boman Irani played a good Virus, but it’s not a role that couldn’t have been imagined by another artist. I definitely knew a lot of Chatur’s (Omi Vaidya) in my class, I too shamefully admit to being one!

Don’t know how close the film was to Chetan Bhagat’s Five Point Someone, but if you care enough for good cinema then it really doesn’t matter.
The locals were stunning and I bet not one person in the audience could have refrained from saying ‘I want!’ A very clever use of photography in the drive to hunt for Rancho, I was almost disappointed when the journey came to an end. A display of nature raw and pure.
Another interesting treatment was the black and white effect given to Sharman Joshi’s household, which added depth to his characters background.

The film does have its typical cliché Bollywood moments when a baby is delivered using a vaccum cleaner, you think he’s still born but starts kicking at the sound of AAL IIZ WELL. The line’s interaction with the baby was a bit over roasted and did begin to kill the 3 Idiots momentum but only momentarily, thank god!

The soundtrack composed by Shantanu Mitra is not one of my favorites but the film does have a few heart imbuing tracks like ‘ behti hawa sa tha woh’ and ‘give me some sunshine’. The camera work in ‘Zubbi Dubbi’ was far better than the track.
Rajkumar Hirani definitely has his pulse on humanism, even if the story was not his, one thing’s for sure, if a jadoo ki jhapi does not work for you, dil pe haath rakh ke kaho ‘AAL IIZ Well’ and you may just pull through.

p.s. – does anyone know where I could pick up one of those bum chairs from?

Ek Adhura Bahaana

Barfeelay darakhton ke darmiyaan
aaj yun taqdeer ka hua saamna
kudrat ke ghuroor mein chuppi
khaalis si yeh waadiyaan

Imaan hi tha, farz se mohabbat thi jo humein
watan’ne hifaazat ki dor, zindagi se aagi bandhi thi humne

Par ek thehre hue lamhe ne rukh badal diye
farz, mohabbat, zindagi ke maa’ine badal diye

Shahidoon mein ginti ki ab na thi aarzoo
ki aapki aarzo mein fanaa ho chale

Woh lamha, fizaaon mein nami se thi
ya tumhari aahat thi ya meri sasen tamhi se thi

Zulfoon ke hijab se ek chitwan
chehre ki noor ko panaah mil gayi
is aam si dhadkan ko ek makhsoos wajah mil gayi

Kabhi khariyaat puchne ke bahane,
ya chai ki piyaali lotane
roz dastak de to thi
salaam arz karne ke bahane

Door gulistan ko dhagoon mein piroti tum
roz ek jo tuut kar gir jaata
faasloon ko mehkane ka bahana tha

Shaam ki ojhal roshni mein
tumhari perchai ban jaon
tamanna yahi thi
yeh shama’ to sirf ek bahana tha

Kabhi tum kuch kaho
kabhi mein sunu
alfazoon ne ki na kabhi zurrat
nazrein milane ka jo bahana tha

Din bane hafte,
yunhi guzar gaya ek saal,
soz ki shaama jalti rahi
arzoo mein junoon behaal

Unki mohabbat justajoo si rahi
bepanhaa ishq ankahi si rahi
chitthi likhne ki himmat ki humne
mulaqqat ki khwaish, yeh jurrat ki humne

Woh lamha jise kainaat ko tha intezaar
le ayaa hathoon ek paigaam
sarfaroshi ki kasmein, Sar zameen ki hafazaat ka elaan
khidmat ka tha vaasta

Milne ka ek waada, aur kuch baatein hazaar
yun hi tabassum se rukhsat le,
chal diye us paar

Apne jannat ki khaanum bana bethe
tumhari ‘haan’ to sirf ek bahana tha
husne shamsher per sab kuch luta bethe

Us roz barooton ke tukdon ne
kai chulhe bhigo diye
gesuon ke daaman mein be-dum hoon
aur sabhi tasawwur mita diye

Anginnat shaheedon mein naam likh gaye
ek aur dastaane’ ishq ko rusva kar gaye
dhaage se tutt kar bikhar gaye
kuch sapne kuch phool
baimaan taqdeer taale massal gaye

Wafaat to sirf ek bahan tha
kabr per tumhe aana hi tha
ab - dida ko aaj yateem na karo
ek akhri mulaqaat ka wadaa nibhana tha

1- Chitwan - Glance
2- Panaah - Cover
3- Aaam - Common
4- Makhsoos - Exclusive
5- Gulistaan - Rose Garden
6- Ojhal - Dimming/Disappearing
7- Shama - Light/oil lamp
8- Soz - Burning passion vexation
9- Tabassum - Smile
10- Khaanum - Wife/ Princess
11- Shamsher - Sword
12- Gesoo - Tresses
13- Be- dum - Lifeless
14- Tasawwur Imagination
15- Wafaat - Death
16- Ab – dida Tears of the eye

It’s Always A Pleasure!

There would be a hundred times when one hears that line but only a hand full of times when it’s actually meant. Service industries have forever thrived on that mantra but very rarely does one actually feel ‘welcomed’
Well, I’d still say it’s better than some places serving an attitude of ‘if you don’t like us leave! We’ve got a waiting list to fill up your seat!’

The other day at Barista as I kept my coffee warm, fumigating, over a bunch of kids caressing each other under the table, I noticed the attendants went about their orders mechanically. A rare question like ‘which iced coffee is served with cookies?’ threw one completely off guard as he went running in to get me the menu. He emerged, after 15 mins and as I suspected he didn’t know- cause the drink didn’t exist. At least not at Barista. But c’mmon if you work there how difficult is it to know the 31/2 items you serve, at the back of your hand? I guess the fact that the kids lied about them being in the 10th grade was more of a piss off then no cookies in my iced coffee!

I know, I know, my Aunt Hilda nose extends a bit over my backyard sometimes but hey! tomorrow, I’ll have to rear in this pasture and I just want to know at what age, I chain my kids, if this is what they call globalization.

As I walked in to clear the check I was heartened by little ‘post its’ that adorned the wall of the café. Expressions of how lovely the place is and how they’d love to return. I looked around but couldn’t see why. Maybe I didn’t fit the target audience of ‘thank god for this corner café, mom will never figure out ‘was here!’ Just as I was about to take a look at the check, my faithful attendant yanked it back, daring to tear it in two. I presumed it was a billing error as he fumbled with a pen, had arid conversations with his fellow mates, looked at how many pieces of Garlic Cilantro were left, scribbled something and returned the bill.

‘It was nice serving you, look forwards to seeing you again’ is what the hand subconsciously imprinted. The impassive emotions well practiced. If waving out an SOS to catch his attention was his idea of ‘serving’ then I think I’m leaving a post it as well!

I know I sound like a horrid tornado that must be avoided but please, lets not insult a customer’s intelligence. I’d be fine if I didn’t get that note. We’ve come too far to accept that if you don’t leave a hefty tip or don’t ‘regular’ that seat then you’re not special.

Now, where’s that kid, I think I need to ask him about his mom….

Rain, Rain Go Away. Come Again Another Day

The smell of fresh earth, the sound of raindrops humming on the tin roof above, stirring a hot coffee wanting to become one with the rising vapors, the undying desire for a cuddle under a warm blanket, stray thoughts that break into a romantic song, a smile that’s brought by a distant wet memory, fingers running through the phone list, warm feet that can feel the dampness outside. Love is all around..

That has always been my impression of the monsoons. A rich mans impression. The colors seemed quite grey when I tried painting wearing somebody else’s raincoat. As I peered through the cloth hanging as an excuse for a shield from the side of my auto, I realized along with the ink moistening on my crumpling CV, most of Bombay outside my little window was drowning in gutter and neglected waste. The smell of fresh earth was disguised under week old rotting plastic and knee high sewage. Pitter patter on windows had now become loud thuds of splashes as wheels tried to recover on roads. The undying desire for a cuddle still existed, but I had to stop myself from chasing every stray dog drenching to the bone, sitting without a tin roof above. No distant warm memories exist here, when a cold hand reaches out to grab yours, begging for a few alms. How much will be enough to buy a coffee that remains warm for the rest of the day?

I gaze away wiping the dash of freshly tossed muck, as my shifted thoughts are now troubled with the onset of an oily skin, pimples, marks etc.  I watch kids playing cricket by the side of their huts, blithe, untouched by the downpour or the onset of pimples.

I feel stupid and ‘one of those’ for fallaciously empathizing with the world as I make my way back to the ivory tower.

 

 

New York

The trend of providing an umbrella to new cutting edge directors under big banners is a well dressed move. Karan Johar, once said that he ideally wanted to be the only director directing for Dharma, but better sense and unkind competition prevailed.
Films directed/produced by the Chopra clan too have not tasted the sweet smell of success off late. Finally a film, justifying the glory of the Yash Raj banner. Director Kabir Khan, with ‘New York’, has put an end to the wait for quality Bollywood entertainment. Feels like Aditya Chopra has finally broken the evil witch’s spell with three easy steps:
1. Writing a nice story
2. Deciding on not casting Rani Mukherjee
3. Deciding not to direct it himself.
Now lets tango!

New York is a story of three friends and how the aftermath of 9/11 not only changed the sunrise on the city’s horizon but also their lives forever. Many films have been crafted on terrorism, most have revolved around either dramatizing the detention cell ‘Khuda Ke liye’ or have been in defense of the situation created thereby ‘Maachis’.
These have been listed as turning point cinema and ‘New York’ may not rank that high, but it definitely deserves to be in the listing.

Omar (Neil), from Delhi is a fresher at the New York University. There he befriends two Americans, Maya(Katrina) and Sam(John), and becomes a part of their lives faster than mustard melting over hotdog. Sam is the loveable college showoff who doesn’t miss an opportunity to outshine an opponent or flirt with Maya. Maya is the Students Rep, whose smile is warmer then the autumn breeze. Omar is the shy outsider, who gets swept away by this breeze and mistakes her warmth for reciprocation. An incident one night creates a closure to the two years of this directionless triangle. Maya realizes she actually does love Sam. Omar realizes Maya actually loves Sam. Sam is just plain happy.

The story quickly moves to 9/11, a day the world will never forget. The Twin Towers exit from the skyline as does Omar from Sam and Maya’s lives.
7 yrs later, circumstances force Omar to cross paths with them again. This time Sam, Omar and Maya are only images of the people that once existed on the New York college campus. Things have changed, they’ve changed, motives have changed.
Omar due to the past he shared has been framed and planted by the FBI (Irfan Khan) as an undercover agent to uncover Sam who is believed to be running a sleepers cell, a potential threat to the safety of the country. Omar reluctant, agrees to co-operate only to prove that he and his friend could never be involved with anything as menacing.

As time passes, much to the FBI’s frustration Omar can get no such evidence on Sam. He’s secretly relieved. Short-lived however. A sudden twist in tale, though some shout predictable, keeps the momentum going.

More than dwelling on terrorism or the impact it’s had on the lives of these protagonists, Aditya Chopra still keeps the story close to the love and camaraderie shared between the three friends.

Neil has done a decent job of playing Omar, a shy, good looking, righteous man who believes in the virtue of friendship and all its goodness. John has transformed well in his character of playing ‘the Sam that once was’. But Katrina in my space deserves a special mention. Can’t say it’s for an award winning performance, don’t know if it’s the way she looked or her justice to Maya’s character, which wasn’t too performance driven anyway. But all I can say is her presence lit up the screen like a thousand fiery autumn leaves.
Irfan Khan, belongs to a league where commenting on his acting would be like trying to sell a map to a flock of birds flying south.

The only clichéd I’d like to warn against is ‘ Muslims are being targeted all over. Some, due to their own misinterpretation of the Islam. But it will take one good deed from one good Muslim, to turn it all around’. What happened in New York was wrong. What happened with a lot of muslims was wrong. But these wrongs also happen against Hindus, against Christians, against other religions. And just not in America.

The end was a bit sad and predictable, but I can’t think what else would be more befitting. It is a Bollywood film at the end of the day! Pritam has excelled in giving us youthful tracks like ‘Hai Junnon’ and ‘Mere Sang’. ‘Tune Jo na Kaha’ is a soulful track and pertinently sited.

The cinematography too deserves a mention. Some shots are out of the box, though very subtle, they make you sit up and notice perspective. Overall, I would say even if you have to go watch it alone, do it, cause I did and didn’t regret it for a minute.

Happy, Gay or Not

A lot has been written and fought for where GLBT rights are concerned. Being Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual or Transgender, I thought was purely by choice. A few articles on the subject have further confused and intrigued me. But some helped put a few things into perspective.

During the course of my inquisition I stumbled upon two terms - Sexual Preference and Sexual Orientation. Sexual orientation is not a choice. Preference implies choice. Being gay, lesbian, or bisexual is sexual orientation. Sexual preference is a term that might apply to a bisexual person who prefers people of a particular biological sex.
So in other words you cant beat a gay guy straight!

Social stigma prevents many to remain in the closet, which is a huge deprivation of humanity, a violation of rights, of personal freedom, of choice. But that’s not what my confusion or this article is about.

Thomas Beati, became the first man to have delivered a baby. Beatie, had his gender changed surgically, but kept his female reproductive organs. This begs the question - Why? If all Tracy ever wanted was to be Thomas, then why did she keep her female reproductive organs functioning? Thomas' wife ideally is married to Thomas who is a woman. If both the ladies sexual preference was to be with the same sex, why then did she want Tracy to become a man?

Hakim Nelson and Jason Stenson, have just created history by duping oblivious city bureaucrats who not only OK'd the marriage license, but conducted the ceremony, despite gay marriage being illegal in the state of New York. Nelson aka "Kimah" hopes to one day have surgery and become a woman. Good for him, but please explain where does that leave Jason’s sexual preference? As a self confessed Gay – why would he want Hakim to become a woman? If he does prefer women, then why is he with Hakim?
While still relatively rare -- one advocate estimates that 0.25 to 0.5 percent of the American population is transgendered -- the idea of changing gender identity has become more widespread in recent years.

Henry Joseph Madden had a secret: He sometimes wore his mother's pantyhose and underwear under his clothes. "I really wanted to be a girl so bad, and that was one way for me to satisfy those feelings" . Dr. Jennifer Madden, a family physician, began her transition to being female at age 48.

As early as age 3, Dr. Julie Praus, born male, didn't understand why her father wanted to play catch.

Jamison Green, author of "Becoming a Visible Man," went through chest reconstruction and genital surgery at the age of 40.

Green, originally a woman is now happily married to a woman. Praus now a woman is also married to a woman. Madden originally a man now has a boyfriend. Aren’t they all then basically just Gays and Lesbians, in spite of painful surgeries, their preference doesn’t really change. Can they actually succeed in fooling themselves so deep? Will a set of new silicones reinstate their partner’s heterosexuality?
So does that make Madden’s boyfriend Gay? Or is he hetrosexual cause Madden on some level now owns her own panty hose?

At the risk of sounding like a righteous, judgmental ‘Jesus wont have it' kind of person, all I really want to do is understand the term ‘Transsexual’. Anybody out there?

Not that Shin(e)y.

Rapes are being reported worldwide with alarming regularity. According to some statistics, only one in 69 rape cases in India are even reported. Only 20 % of those reported result in convictions.

In a scenario like above I’m not sure what is more shocking, the fact that one more victim was added to the statistics or the fact that a heinous crime like this has been committed by a celebrity. Not to glamorize celebrities as immortal but this certain section of the society does have a larger moral responsibility towards millions who look up to them. What is it with fame and power that attracts vice and disgrace? Take our west wood heroes like Bill Clinton, Hugh Grant for e.g.

I’ve generally associated Shiney Ahuja with potential, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what conceived in his head that fateful afternoon leading to his downfall. Could sex be the only motive for a crime like this or are there other physiological and psychological factors attached that drive the testosterones in a man. If getting laid is all he wanted I’m sure there could have been many other outlets.

Some believe Shiney has been framed for his fortune and the man is innocent. Would they believe the same if the victim was not his maid, but another influential somebody.
Would the furor pick up the same intensity if it was a ‘normal rape’ – i.e. not between a master and his slave, not between the mighty and the suppressed, not between a politician and a commoner? Why has Yogita Thakre’s case been brushed under the carpet already? She was all of seven when her world ended. Is anyone listening?

For the sake of argument let’s look at the other side of the coin, if it was a case of consensual intercourse, then Shiney seems to be the victim here, he’s been raped of status, his career, and probably his family.
‘He was a good man’, ‘I’ve never had any problems with Shiney’, ‘this is all a trap’ is what some of his close associates quoted. Was media really expecting a record saying ‘I truly believe Shiney is capable of such a peccadillo?’ How would what his school teacher thought of him help the investigation?

This case has raised a very important question though, if found guilty he will be jailed for 7 years and deservingly so, but if this is a case of ‘blame the victim’, how can his innocence be proved. Due to the aggressive nature of men in general, the laws enforced are to favour the testimony of the victim as final. Can any form of chemical analysis, signs of force, be checked before convicting? There is a new method called checking for vagina lubrication, and only if no intent of intercourse can be proved from the victim’s side can a verdict be given. So basically the victim, if a victim, is made to endure the ordeal over ands over again. These victims or offenders are not psychotic killers capable of mind games. If a lie detector can be used to map minds and convict the likes of Dawood, can they not be used under such circumstances as well?

They say if there is a god, justice shall be done. But I’d like to know if there is a god, why isn’t justice served from the word go?

Kal Kisne Dekha

After the two month deadlock between multiplexes and producers, films finally returned to the cinemas today, like cowboy’s riding back into a dead county.
The first release of this summer was producer Vashu Bhagnani’s film ‘Kal Kisne Dekha’ starring Jacky Bhagnani (Surprise! Surprise!) and Vaishali Desai.

Director Vivek Sharma whose past includes Asoka & Bhootnath may not be counting on a heavy fan following after this release. Having said that, this film may still do well at the box office purely because the release has been strategic in ending the draught. Families would rush to cinema houses for anything (trying to defend my stand here.)

The film introduces new faces but severely lacks freshness and passion.
Nihal Singh (Jacky) is a small town boy who moves to Bombay and joins a college that is in South Africa (First fall - did the director forget that 60% of Bollywood viewers are from Bombay, this is really pushing creative license). Nihal is bright, enthusiastic, questions the existence of dreams, has an oddball kind of charm and is a visionary. No, he does not work with the BMC to improve conditions during monsoons, but is too busy trying to convince Meesha, the college’s spoilt brat that he can dance. Meesha’s character claims that she’s never said 'Sorry' to anyone in her life, well she should, I strongly recommend, apologize to the audience for being a part of this project.

Nihal Singh has the gift of seeing the future. He thus succeeds in saving Meesha’s life by helping locate and disseminate a bomb. However his gift is unveiled by media and before Nihal can dance on the next song with Meesha, he’s already a part of a mad scientists plan.

Nihal’s world is rudely interrupted when Meesha disappears and thus begins a dangerous game, where Nihal’s powers are used by him, against him. His innocence is violated and his vision is used as a blue print to plan one of the deadliest attacks on the city. In a corny kind of fashion Nihal doesn’t see this coming!

The biggest let down of this film is its dialogues. I can’t seem to decide whether Vivek Sharma is a bad director or an even worst dialogue writer. But I think I’ll award him for the latter. The dialogues give the film a dated feel. Dated 15 -20 years back, when Jacky was still a 130 Kgs.

The music and the locals of the film make it just about watchable. Sajid – Wajid have displayed a decent range between composing the peppy 'Soniye Billori' and the heartfelt 'Tere Bina'. I even liked 'Aasmaan Jhuk Gaya'. But just three out of eleven compositions would not be considered a good score. The trailers served only as good appetizers and the short clippings made Nihal look like a better dancer. Though the film was heavily promoted in concerts all over the country, with the likes of Kareena and Lara scorching the stage with Jacky, he still has quite a few miles to go.

After witnessing many fathers launch their sons, I have to say there is only one Greek Diva and Hrithik Roshan is yet to be dethroned.

The Princess

While reading a friends blog, an article got me thinking. The era has arrived where achievements should be applauded purely for their merit and not as if to say, ‘it feels like an achievement because you’re a woman’ -  “woman president”, “woman CEO” etc. True the perception of today’s woman has evolved. She showcases far more substance than ever only written about. Today she is free, she is proud. Amidst all this, I can understand the anger vented towards Disney for it’s creation of little princesses, who still need to be rescued.

But I don’t necessarily agree.

A friend’s comment on the article was deep fried in concern on how kids today would yearn for that perfect world, the magic wand. Girls would grow up believing feminism could only be spelt with those 10 qualities.

What we ideally need to teach our little princesses is to READ BETWEEN THE LINES.

I think the world of Disney is feminist and you don’t need to sit by your bedside, waiting for moonlight to strike you through tainted windows to realize that.

Disney has empowered it’s women with the supremacy to navigate strings of vulnerability through a tool called ‘oomph’ (or some form of it)  like a kiss, or a promise to look after you, or Fructus long and strong thrown down as a rope (all of this eventually leads to the happy ending)

It’s those silly boys who fall for it each time, mistaking it for helplessness and are quick to jump on silver horses armour et all. Look at Cinderella, agreed, she needed a little help getting out, but once at the ball, she left him high and dry, only to walk around the whole bloody city with a shoe in his hand. Mochi banna diya bechare ko.

Sleeping beauty, too, very cleverly thought it better to roll over and play dead rather than waste her time doing menial jobs for an evil old fart. So, she just lazed, slept mostly, till somebody came around. She then took him home, traded him in to do all the work, while she basked in morning sunlight drying her freshly colored hair and painted toe nails. BTW that’s what happened in Cinderella as well. They just didn’t show it.

Snow White was the smartest, not one, but she had 7 dwarfs dancing to her tune and finally she chose to be with someone else. Go girl!

Beauty and the Beast, she only stuck with him cause he was a beast (get itJ)

Little Mermaid, decided to stop fishing around, not because she longed for the luminous yellow sun and the green trees of the distant land. Was no one paying attention when she sang:

“I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty

I've got whozits and whatzits galore

(You want thingamabobs?

I got twenty)

But who cares?

No big deal

I want more”

Yeah baby it’s the calling of the rich and the famous, ever seen a shell fish on the cover of Vogue?

So please, get real and smell the beer. It’s not really a Oh! Come rescue me world, while I flutter my eyelashes.  I could flutter my eyelashes too, if you promise to clean that spot under the table as well, I mean, whatevah!

My favorite is a line from the classic Pretty Women when Richard Gere finally climbs the iron railings with courage and a sense of pride on finally rescuing Julia, he beamingly asks “What happens after the Knight in shinning armor rescues his princess?”.

“ She rescues him right back” is all that was needed. And that dear friends, is the truth. 

The Journey or The Destination

Today the sun set in darker shades of water color but the air seemed lighter, even though mixed with tears, some of joy, that we’ve come this far, and some of disbelief on how fast we’ve arrived.

The sound of ‘pack up’ did not have the cattle turning homeward. There was no dire rush for solitude before graze next morning. A restless easiness uplifted many minds. Twilight today, marked the end of my first outdoor and the beginning of a journey my heart is set to wander.

I’ve finally completed my first feature. What my role was is not important, the bruised swords not important, things learnt, if any shared, not important. Everything seemed insignificant as I watched this one big family in subdued hugs of exhilaration. Every eye that met shared a moment, and in that one moment it knew, their paths may never cross again or cross for reasons unknown. Holding back an erupting volcano of emotions, I knew I was going to miss every single person on the field today. Even those, whom I never shared, even a minute of space with.

For the less adventurous who'll only brave this ride through stories of mere others, I must tell you, being a part of conceiving a film gives ‘adrenaline rush’ a new, yet unexplainable definition.

My first few weeks were spent masterminding plans of fleeing, without emerging as a quitter that is. Tired, each night I went to bed with a promise that tomorrow will be different, easier, better, an early night. While dragging dead weight out early the next morning, I’d make promises again, just as true as the one’s I made to myself the night before. To top only 4 hrs of sleep on an average, the sweltering heat that reduced my curls to a reminiscence of a forest fire, pimples that promised to remind me of their existence forever, food that made me want to turn bulimic, and work load that could put a master juggler to shame, I felt like a piece of meat, well done. No overcooked. Plain charred (even photoshop now,gives errors while fixing my pics)

But only till I learnt the secret. Stand up and embrace. So, as soon as I tore the blue prints of blowing up the back exit, I fell in love with my bohemian tan, alligator skin, and everything that made me look like a porcupine cross. Today, I appreciate and salute every single leaf of a branch that adorns the tree. At the end of the day, when we put away our masks, we’re all the same; sweaty, smelly and all we need is a hug. And when the day ended after two months, there was only that one thing left to do.

From here, we may all walk in different directions, together, but as we looked back at the setting canvas, standing in this moment, I silently nodded in agreement with the wind; it is the journey here, which made this sunset worth it.

The day Ceeko got a new home

One bright sunny morning I got a frantic call from the guy who delivers dog food. A family dropped their 7 year old chiuaua to the kennel promising to come back for him in three days.
Three days turned into two weeks and it was growing increasingly clear that the phone calls were never going to be returned. There will never be a hello for Ceeko at the end of that line. The sunshine suddenly felt a little less warm.

Concern was rapidly weaving its web, and wrapped all who came across. Mission not-impossible was to find Ceeko a new set of walls, still warm from the love they exuded. That’s when I came across a Dog Angel called Anisha, in the form of my casting colleague. She went to meet Ceeko, there was hope against odds. I could hear the wind whisper this winter.. come fall in love.

And she did!!! Ceeko the little shaken, runny nosed, dejected, one-eyed bag of badly cut fur had a new home. But wait; there was Cleo at the other end, who may have a problem with sharing his attention of smugglies. Two days and hours of bum sniffing later, Cleo and Ceeko seem to be accepting each other’s presence. Ceeko’s learning to get less apprehensive about the attention being showered, is emerging from under the bed, gives a half tooth smile in between naps, has taken to food and is just about snuggling into anything he can begin to call home.

The sun seems bright again. But not warmer then the Doggy Angel . A big Woof woof to you girl!

Dev D

I'd like to take this opportunity, to give a standing ovation to Anurag Kashyap, for imagining a film so bold, even though 40% of India may not be able to swallow. To my friend Manish, cause of whom I watched my first Premier, to my parents for understanding I’ll be home late...

Some review I read bashed the film for being namesake. Quote “There's a major difference between KL Saigal, Dilip Kumar, Shah Rukh Khan and Abhay Deol's Devdas. There's no harm if you pick up an enticing story and tell it your way, but Kashyap goes a bit too far, crosses all limits and tends to get abstract once again”

I'm glad, didn’t see the point otherwise.

Dev dressed in denims, indulging in phone sex with Paro, on the first flight London-Bombay after seeing her nude pics, rolling up at any time of the hour, Paro instead of acting coy carries matresses to the field for a make out session, the premier invites printed on single packs of condoms, everything makes it clear from the word ‘go’ that this is Anurag's 'Dev D', there is a major difference!If you weren’t expecting none, then should have just rented the old one’s out again!

The likes of Abhay Deol, Farhan Akhtar can however, never become an Aamir or a Shahrukh. And the beauty of that is, it doesn’t feel like you're watching someone act. If stories are to be believed then Anurag constantly kept Abhay under substance abuse and the result was a very horny, sometimes topless, always sexy Dev. I've liked Abhay from his first film aur maine 'Socha Na Tha' that in spite of being a Deol he’d have a contemporary edge.

Paro (Mahi Gill) insists she'll only have sex with Dev (that’s the reason she gives her father for not marrying another man). They finally meet, but alas! before the action between the sheet, a misunderstanding puts their love on the back seat. In a bout of deluded jealousy, Dev breaks her heart and her dreams. She marries another man and Dev takes to the convenient plan. Recluse & abandoned he immerses his sorrows in alcohol, cocaine and Chanda (Kalki). No, they were not all laid out on the table.

Now, Chanda too like Dev has a history. A freak MMS led her ashamed father to commit suicide and, her packing to their village in Punjab. I love this one particular line in the film when she says "how did people know that it was me, cause that MMS wasn’t passed around, my pics didn’t appear in the paper or on TV. They knew, cause they downloaded the MMS to watch it. And then, I’m the slut!'

So true!

The character played by Kalki adds a very interesting dimension to Chanda, she goes to university, is well educated, can have phone sex in Hindi, French and Telegu, pluhus dresses up like the American School girl. But in spite of this there is still no silver lining on Dev's cloud as the sizzling Chanda represents the last sip of water on dry land and Dev makes for the door again.

That brings me to the last part of the movie, the forgive and forget. The world till now was dark and upside down an alley (even without smoking up) but comes crashing straight during the last 15 mins which i'd label the 'emosanal attchyachaar' of the evening.

Loved the Cinematography by Rajeev Ravi, every single piece of music is AWESONE a good job by Amit Trivedi. "Tauba tera jalwa...tauba tera..." You rocked Abhay D!

Of Slums and Dogs

Stealing Obama’s thunder, with 3 Golden Globe awards for Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Original Score and 10 Oscar nominations, the movie is definitely history in the making. But the only one I appreciate is the nomination for Achievement in Music by the one and only, Allah Rakha Rehman.
He has done India proud by hoisting a flag on much eluded plains, not only by arresting every ‘gora’ household but kids selling flags at signals too are singing ‘Jai Ho’ instead of ‘Jai Hind’

However, in my logs, Danny Boy’s success falls into grey areas. The movie, I thought, had large tones of clichéd ness. I’m not against the exposure of poverty; we all know the dirt beneath the bed. We lay clean sheets above and turn a blind eye, but we know. What we don’t know is, why is a standing ovation being given to some foreign director whose fitted cameras into the slums of Bombay?
In the past, many Indian movies have mirrored the same but disappeared like the morning dew. Unnoticed. Is it cause the lead protagonist was not a slum dweller with a British accent?
Danny very correctly pointed out “everyone loves the underdog” but isn’t it time India was recognized besides solely for being one. Please explain why you’d want to make a movie on Indian slums but import the lead from abroad. We not good enough for ya?

I’m happy for talent but not for hype. The choreography of the last song sums up Danny’s understanding of India and its cinema. Let’s throw in a song on the platform, get 50 synchronized feet and voila!

The only other gentlemen who deserve to share my blog space with the meastro are Anthony Dod Mantle and Chris Dickens for their Oscar nominations- Achievement in Cinematography & Achievement in Film Editing respectively.

So here’s keeping everyone in a knot and hoping it’s homecoming for the Oscars.

Chandani Chowk to China

Yeh movie kyun bani samajh aaina!

Now, I could dedicate a whole post to the flaws of this movie but I’d consider that a bigger waste of time then watching the movie itself.
Akhsay Kumar reminds of the recession, a bubble waiting to burst. Deepika Padukone..no comments.
I think the movie should be re-titled ‘Akhir kyun’ and made tax free. Why should I feel cheated alone?

Strangers In The Night

The thought of spending an evening with a bunch of strangers, does not make me jump three feet high. My evenings, usually, revolve around the same set of faces (new expressions always!). Call it boring, I call it choice.
But like most choices out of one’s control, I found myself in a rather unfamiliar situation.

The strong winds turned north, I wrapped my jacket tighter. Tonight was a big night. I had agreed to go out with friend A, who had a visitor in town, friend B. After running out of excuses, for not turning up, I found myself sipping coffee on the third seat. Just two people? I can handle that. But as the night stepped forward, alphabets began to multiply. We were now on friend H, and the only thread that linked us all was 'A' who I must admit, was not doing too bad a job.

The evening picked up speed like the unexpected force of a rapid. The laughter grew so loud that it took my rule book by it's horn and flung it in the direction of an oncoming train.

That night I learnt:
1. When traveling by car, if there’s a choice between nurturing a crick in the neck or missing out on punch lines, choose the back seat! It’s comfortable [I was just plain lucky Mr.B:)]
2.If you haven’t finished your glass of wine, it’s ok to ask for a take away
3.Retro is just soooooo much fun
4.Having random men walk up to you in a club, as the aftermath of a prank, is actually quite funny. Neither of you know what you’re both doing in that situation
5.A 5 star hotel’s restaurant is packed even at 5 on a working morning! With powdered noses still in place.
6.It’s ok to sing along to the music. And really loud. Even if you can hear it only faintly from behind the club doors
7.Two girls need absolutely no reason to bond or not
8.You can exchange numbers at the end of only one evening with an honest intention of calling back
9.It’s ok to laugh when someone chokes up on chillies :)
10.A little flirtation never hurt (but I already knew that)
11.A table behind you, helps break the fall, especially when your partner looses grip while trying to jive
12. What definitely doesn’t help is walking too close to a fountain (I’m still not sorry, c’mmon, be a sport!)
13.Even if you’ve been drinking till 5 in the morning you wont feel it, cause your heels are killing you softly
14.Planned evenings don’t always hurt [yeah you! you know who I’m talkin’ to:)]
15.Reminiscence of such an evening can make you smile, even days later……

Strangers in the night….We were strangers in the night, Up to the moment, When we said our first hello…sometimes, that’s all it takes.

Accessing a hotmail account on a PC

Off late I’ve got a lot of sniggers for
a) the fact that I'm still using a hotmail account when the world has moved onto Gmail.
The other day, when I rebelled to being the only one who didn’t receive a friends roka pics, all I got was 'arre yaar you have a stupid hotmail account. It bounced' A kind of ‘third world country’ treatment in account land!
I can’t seem to forget the days when internet was a novelty. I spent hours in an internet cafe, paid through my nose, constantly refreshing the page in failed attempts to open an account. A HOTMAIL ACCOUNT. Can’t just let it get terminated.

And b) my curls straightening out within half hour of using a Mac.
I HATE IT! Why can’t it be as simple as a PC or at least, get me a mouse along with a dictionary of shortcuts. 20 yrs on a PC cannot be unlearnt by fingers in a min or hours or days. It takes time Ok?!
Please explain why can’t you still have the right click option? Cut/paste reduces font size automatically. Now, I could right click and reformat but nooo! I have to spend the next 20 mins playing treasure hunt to find the bloody command. Where’s backspace?
One slip of the finger and the Mac pukes up a foray of icons at the unsuspecting user. I can almost hear it snigger too. Where's the thesaurus btw? And you can't choose ‘the correct spelling’ by a right click!
I know Mac users swear by it. But then you may also be the kind who have moved on from hotmail.

Someday.