"Balandemakkal" (Balan's children), says AshokRaj(Mammootty's character) as he hugs the children of Balan (Srinivasan). And then, with misty eyes, looks up at Balan.
This is one of the last scenes in this awesome movie called Katha Parayumbol which I chanced to see in a hall@Bangalore. This film was just one more of those things which makes me take even greater pride in being a Keralite.
I can bet that the same scene in any other language would have stretched much much longer with some flowery dialogues and melodramatic moments.
Hmm, what did I like about the movie? Plenty.
To start with, I was watching the movie with a cousin who I have begun to discover as an individual, only over the last 2-3 years in spite of knowing each other since the last 25 years. Second, watching a Malayalam movie in Bangalore was something I had not hoped for in this trip. Third, it came at a time when I was wondering if Malayalam films are taking the same familiar masala route taken by movies in other languages.
The movie is set in rural Kerala- the scenic beauty of Kerala has been beautifully captured- you know why it is God's own country. The settings are so natural- the local chaayakkada (tea shop) serving as the centre for village gossip and general banter (one amazing scene is when the local communist politician says why the prices for hair cuts have gone up coz of globalization). One has to have some experience of Kerala to appreciate these scenes. The different characters presented in the movie look like they've been plucked out of a story book.
The relationship between the father (played by Srinivasan) and his children (and with his wife) are beautifully depicted. In particular, 2 scenes come to my mind- one, when the father asks the daughter what she wants to become...and she says that she wants to be the daughter of a father who can pay her school fees. And second, when her dad does not fulfil her wish of getting her to meet the superstar, the royal ignore she gives him.
I liked the way in which some nice nigs have been taken on the politicians of Kerala- especially the union leaders. (have u heard this- 1 mallu is an innovator, 2 mallus= 2 political parties, 3= 1 trade union, 4= 2 trade unions). Something unique about the movies of Sreenivasan (and Sathyan Anthikkadu) is that the protagonist will make you smile and laugh- however, he is himself going through very troubled times. The protagonist, like the proverbial clown, can see the brighter side of things.
The film also highlights another aspect of human relationships- one of the beautiful aspects of friendship is that in spite of not having met a good friend in years, the relationship still can remain as beautiful, or even more beautiful; as strong or even stronger.
The blog will be incomplete without a mention of Mammootty- one of the greatest actors the country has ever seen, in an extended guest appearance. This will go down as one of his best roles ever.
This undoubtedly is amongst Srinivasan's best yet- I would place it almost on par with Sandesham. The experience of watching this movie reaffirmed my pride in being a Keralite- we Keralites still can laugh at ourselves better than anybody else; we still are much more "aware" than anybody else. Also, my respect for Malayalam films as opposed to films in other languages, stands, as strong as ever. I love sounding like a regional fanatic/ chauvnist.
This one is dedicated to my cousin, who I've begun to know and understand only recently. This process of trying to know him would remain extremely special to me.
This one is also a tribute to my dear friend- "neela bukkett", who stays across the office; someone who I see as the best Mallu in the making.
The one song whose lines have been playing in mind as I write all this is... Ende Keralam, Ethra Sundaram....
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
a year and 200 times later...
I remember doing it for the first time in February last year. I was nervous. It was my first time, so there was no experience I could rely on. I did not know what were her expectations of me. I did not know if I was capable of satisfying her expectations.
Everybody had a view on it; people who had done it for years now and those who had started doing it just a few months, weeks or days back. I was still in a mood to learn. I was open to most inputs- even if they sounded contrary.
Some said that the act of context setting and foreplay was the most important part during the entire session. Some said, to hell with context, the act of getting her to talk is most important. Some felt that it was a divine opportunity to touch another life.
Some said that time does not matter. Some felt 45 minutes was too much. Some claimed to finish it in under 20 minutes. Some actually said that it depended on the money the "client" was willing to pay.
Everybody said that a session would leave you exhausted. Six is the upper limit you could do in a day. People had claimed to have done it 8 and even 12 times in a day. But they felt it was a little too much for a human being- specially when you have it back to back.
Most of them felt that I should prepare for it, if not a day in advance, atleast a few hours in advance. I actually tried practising it front of the mirror. (Even after a year of doing it the first time, over 200 times later, I still try to practise before the actual act begins).
I wondered if it would be a humiliating experience for the other person. The experienced ones said that it all depends on me and how comfortable I let the other person feel. Some were even generous enough to let me sit through in sessions when they were doing it- of course without letting the other person know about it.
And when it started, she was nervous. So was I. Only that she did not know why I was nervous. I tried to set a context, but I guess, messed it up. Nevertheless, the show went on for the next 60 minutes. She smiled at times. I thought those were the moments her expectations were satisfied. (over 200 times later, I now know and realise that a smile does not indicate satisfaction and a frown/ sounds and words of disapproval does not indicate a lack of satisfaction).
That was the first developmental dialogue with a person where I had to deliver a feedback. It was tough then. I still feel uncomfortable delivering the feedback at times. I've just come back after a session that I felt very difficult to complete.
Thought I'll pen down these thoughts...
PS-- dedicated to all the experienced friends who've helped me through these days in the act of delivering feedback
Everybody had a view on it; people who had done it for years now and those who had started doing it just a few months, weeks or days back. I was still in a mood to learn. I was open to most inputs- even if they sounded contrary.
Some said that the act of context setting and foreplay was the most important part during the entire session. Some said, to hell with context, the act of getting her to talk is most important. Some felt that it was a divine opportunity to touch another life.
Some said that time does not matter. Some felt 45 minutes was too much. Some claimed to finish it in under 20 minutes. Some actually said that it depended on the money the "client" was willing to pay.
Everybody said that a session would leave you exhausted. Six is the upper limit you could do in a day. People had claimed to have done it 8 and even 12 times in a day. But they felt it was a little too much for a human being- specially when you have it back to back.
Most of them felt that I should prepare for it, if not a day in advance, atleast a few hours in advance. I actually tried practising it front of the mirror. (Even after a year of doing it the first time, over 200 times later, I still try to practise before the actual act begins).
I wondered if it would be a humiliating experience for the other person. The experienced ones said that it all depends on me and how comfortable I let the other person feel. Some were even generous enough to let me sit through in sessions when they were doing it- of course without letting the other person know about it.
And when it started, she was nervous. So was I. Only that she did not know why I was nervous. I tried to set a context, but I guess, messed it up. Nevertheless, the show went on for the next 60 minutes. She smiled at times. I thought those were the moments her expectations were satisfied. (over 200 times later, I now know and realise that a smile does not indicate satisfaction and a frown/ sounds and words of disapproval does not indicate a lack of satisfaction).
That was the first developmental dialogue with a person where I had to deliver a feedback. It was tough then. I still feel uncomfortable delivering the feedback at times. I've just come back after a session that I felt very difficult to complete.
Thought I'll pen down these thoughts...
PS-- dedicated to all the experienced friends who've helped me through these days in the act of delivering feedback
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
nostalgia...
Yaaron, dosti- badi hee haseen hai,
Ye na ho toh kya fir...... bolo yeh zindagi hai”
Am sure all of us have heard this immortal number by KK.
Has it ever happened to you that you receive a message, mail/ SMS or just anything at all from a friend that leaves you so touched that your eyes get moist- even in the midst of 10 others? Has it happened to you that in the most unusual of circumstances, from the most unexpected quarter, you come to know something very good about a friend long lost?
Well, both happened to me- in a span of 2 days, between yesterday and today;
And that has triggered this blog.
Very many friends have shown me the beauty of friendship- at different times, in varied ways.
I may or not have expressed my feelings back. I do not know.
The earliest memories I have are of friends I used to play cricket and football with. My friends were friends as long as I was not out while batting. The moment I got out, I would say that the bat is mine and go home. The guy who owned the ball would also do something similar.
The next set of friends were those who sat next to me in class- the ones with whom the pencil sharpener and the ever elusive eraser were shared with.
Then came those with whom I chose to have my lunch at school- when I first started having my own groups. The key word here is “chose”.
I do not remember if there was an interim stage between the two preceding stages.
Then came the set of friends with whom I would prefer to hang around- after school hours. As my school was in the close vicinity of where we all lived, the people I would hang around with were those that I chose to spend my lunch hours at school with.
After 10th, when the friends group was split into the different streams- arts, science and commerce, there were new friends. Some of the old friends were still there, the rest got pushed into oblivion- some immediately, some slowly and steadily.
Then there were those that I shared my interests with- and my aspirations as well. So there were friends just because they enjoyed my kinda movies and books; some because they too wanted to get into the armed forces.
When the school gates closed and the college gates opened, there were again a whole lot of new friends. Some of the old friends remained close and eventually became closer; some of them became acquaintances. The key word here is “close”.
Graduation brought with it some rosy days- eating bhelpuri outside Arts Fac, Chhole bhathure at Malka Ganj, Momos in Kamla nagar and having Banta outside KMC; watching movies in the front row at Priyas,and of course at Batra, Alpana and Amba. (Anybody who ever studied in North Campus can understand all this). Some of the adventures also included sitting on a dharna together- day and night for a good two weeks over issues close to the heart; jumping out of a running bus together and even together going on a “well-planned” trip outside Delhi. Then there were those dark hours. The same set of friends still were there then.
Graduation gave way to Post graduation. I was now right across the road. (for the uninitiated, D’school is on one side of the road; on the other is KMC where I graduated from). There were again a new set of friends. Some of the old ones still remained.
Kipling wrote,
"If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;"
The context was different when he wrote this. However, college taught me (especially post grad) that in difficult situations, with friends, the element of doubt never existed. Probably they trusted you more that you believed in yourself. The key word here is "Trust".
Then there always other friends- at tuition, in the neighbourhood, at work, in the lift and so on... or the teetotaler, who like me, visits pubs alone only to enjoy the live music and the lemonade or the odd mocktail... and those beautiful moments of solitude.
I guess the recipe that built up these relationships over the years have been the tripod of Affinity, Respect and Trust. Outside of the immediate family, it is friends who have had maximum impact on my life.
Then there were those odd broken friendships; reminding me that the death of a relationship is often as painful as the death of the relation himself/ herself. One such friend (its been long since we last spoke) is getting married within a couple of months. I got to know this in the most unusual of circumstances- from a person I was meeting for the first time, and pehaps, would never again meet.
This blog is a tribute to this little lady who once was my closest friend.
This blog is also a tribute to the Big Boy, who, yesterday, sent me one of the most touching messages I’ve ever received.
Even as I conclude this, I can remember the old song from Anand- a couple of lines from the song-
“…kaheen toh ye dil kabhi mil nahi paate,
kaheen se nikal aaye, janmon ke naate…
Ye na ho toh kya fir...... bolo yeh zindagi hai”
Am sure all of us have heard this immortal number by KK.
Has it ever happened to you that you receive a message, mail/ SMS or just anything at all from a friend that leaves you so touched that your eyes get moist- even in the midst of 10 others? Has it happened to you that in the most unusual of circumstances, from the most unexpected quarter, you come to know something very good about a friend long lost?
Well, both happened to me- in a span of 2 days, between yesterday and today;
And that has triggered this blog.
Very many friends have shown me the beauty of friendship- at different times, in varied ways.
I may or not have expressed my feelings back. I do not know.
The earliest memories I have are of friends I used to play cricket and football with. My friends were friends as long as I was not out while batting. The moment I got out, I would say that the bat is mine and go home. The guy who owned the ball would also do something similar.
The next set of friends were those who sat next to me in class- the ones with whom the pencil sharpener and the ever elusive eraser were shared with.
Then came those with whom I chose to have my lunch at school- when I first started having my own groups. The key word here is “chose”.
I do not remember if there was an interim stage between the two preceding stages.
Then came the set of friends with whom I would prefer to hang around- after school hours. As my school was in the close vicinity of where we all lived, the people I would hang around with were those that I chose to spend my lunch hours at school with.
After 10th, when the friends group was split into the different streams- arts, science and commerce, there were new friends. Some of the old friends were still there, the rest got pushed into oblivion- some immediately, some slowly and steadily.
Then there were those that I shared my interests with- and my aspirations as well. So there were friends just because they enjoyed my kinda movies and books; some because they too wanted to get into the armed forces.
When the school gates closed and the college gates opened, there were again a whole lot of new friends. Some of the old friends remained close and eventually became closer; some of them became acquaintances. The key word here is “close”.
Graduation brought with it some rosy days- eating bhelpuri outside Arts Fac, Chhole bhathure at Malka Ganj, Momos in Kamla nagar and having Banta outside KMC; watching movies in the front row at Priyas,and of course at Batra, Alpana and Amba. (Anybody who ever studied in North Campus can understand all this). Some of the adventures also included sitting on a dharna together- day and night for a good two weeks over issues close to the heart; jumping out of a running bus together and even together going on a “well-planned” trip outside Delhi. Then there were those dark hours. The same set of friends still were there then.
Graduation gave way to Post graduation. I was now right across the road. (for the uninitiated, D’school is on one side of the road; on the other is KMC where I graduated from). There were again a new set of friends. Some of the old ones still remained.
Kipling wrote,
"If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;"
The context was different when he wrote this. However, college taught me (especially post grad) that in difficult situations, with friends, the element of doubt never existed. Probably they trusted you more that you believed in yourself. The key word here is "Trust".
Then there always other friends- at tuition, in the neighbourhood, at work, in the lift and so on... or the teetotaler, who like me, visits pubs alone only to enjoy the live music and the lemonade or the odd mocktail... and those beautiful moments of solitude.
I guess the recipe that built up these relationships over the years have been the tripod of Affinity, Respect and Trust. Outside of the immediate family, it is friends who have had maximum impact on my life.
Then there were those odd broken friendships; reminding me that the death of a relationship is often as painful as the death of the relation himself/ herself. One such friend (its been long since we last spoke) is getting married within a couple of months. I got to know this in the most unusual of circumstances- from a person I was meeting for the first time, and pehaps, would never again meet.
This blog is a tribute to this little lady who once was my closest friend.
This blog is also a tribute to the Big Boy, who, yesterday, sent me one of the most touching messages I’ve ever received.
Even as I conclude this, I can remember the old song from Anand- a couple of lines from the song-
“…kaheen toh ye dil kabhi mil nahi paate,
kaheen se nikal aaye, janmon ke naate…
Sunday, January 6, 2008
dekho inhe- ye hain oas ki boondein
It was a warm noon when the four of us- Ajesh, Kunal, Vaibhav and me stopped over at a non-descript village called Bhabhroo near Alwar. The mission was simple- we saw a temple up in the hill; we just wanted to trek there.
The walk from the highway to the foot of the hill was interesting. Toddling through the narrow alleys in the village, avoiding a stream of sewage water here and animal dung there, we scrambled through the village. We were quite a sight for the villagers. Four young men, wearing clothes that were urban, wearing shades and speaking in English; this would be a rare sight in their village- I’m sure.
One moment that remains frozen in my memory was when we passed by a school. Yes, a school where, children- about 9-10 years old, were sitting on the floor and, in a chorus were repeating what their teacher was saying.
Now, my friend Vaibhav has an interesting personality. He is much more urbane than any sophistication you could have ever seen. You could mistake him for a resident NRI ;-)
Naturally, the children were excited upon seeing such a rare guest. Their excitement was palpable- some of them cheering him and peeping through the grills of the window that separated them from us. Vaibhav acknowledged this attention and eventually had to wave back (just like the Dreamy girl in Om Shanti Om).
The other three of us, like the valets of a celebrity smiled and walked behind :-)
This was one of the few instances that I could recollect from my past as I made my way through the exit after seeing Taare Zameen Par.
The end titles of Taare Zameen Par are special for more than a single reason. Each person associated with the movie has been acknowledged- the titles don’t seem to rush past. While reading each name, you also get to see a documentary footage of children of different races, regions and in different moods. It is certainly rare that you are watching a movie for the third time and you still remain glued to your seat till that last film of the climatic titles. When you get out of the hall, you are moved- your heart filled with emotion- of joy and sorrow; when you are numb reflecting upon the experience you have been through in the hall; when you thank God for the wonderful life you have been blessed with.
Rarely do you see movies that entertain and enlighten. Hats off to the team of Taare Zameen Par for making such a movie.
The movie is like a beautiful poem you are reading on celluloid; it is like a beautiful painting you want to savour…
How’s this for the lyrics of a song in the background- “akela nahi main, khuli aankhon se neend mein chalta, girta zyada kam sambhalta, phir bhi na koi shaq na shubha, niklega phir se- sooraj jo dooba, hairat ho sabko aisa, ajooba hai mera jahaan”. This one is written by Amole Gupte and is perhaps, Adnan Sami’s best song yet.
There are facets of our life that we take- as a way of life; like the Chhotus who clean our dining tables in restaurants and dhabas; like Kakes who make the thela wala chaai… like the unclad, dirty-nosed infant-kids wandering near your homes that make you sigh in disgust, like the teenager who still can’t eat himself or do those basic things that you and I do easily as a part of our routines. How’s this for the lyrics of a song- “Duniya sajee, tere liye, khud ko zara pechchaan tu. Tu dhoop hai, jham se bikhar, tu hai nadi, oh bekhabar. Beh chal kahin, ud chal kahin, dil khush jahaan, teri toh manzil hai wahi”
I wonder how many of us actually get to “jham se bikhar”.
I do not know the long term impact this film will have. But I’m sure, anybody who liked the movie would pause for at least that fraction of a second the next time he/she sees these scenes of a childhood lost.
The characters in the film are well etched out. Simple scenes like Aamir getting out of the front seat of the taxi convey a lot about the character. In the animated sequence (3*9=3), the child shows an awareness of Jupiter being much larger than earth or the ring around Saturn clearly showing that he is not dumb.
The interactions between the Aamir’s character and the child’s father are beautifully made. Look at the body language of the father when he tells Aamir that he and wife know all about dyslexia and care for the child; and eventually when he leaves the campus. Look at the scene when the parents hear the words of appreciation for the child; unable to take it, just as a man coming out of a dark room into the sunny day would stand with eyes tightly closed for some time.
The most appealing scene was towards the end when the child realizes that it is him that Aamir has painted. The way the protagonists look at each other is truly amazing.
I have seen this film with my parents, then alone and then again with a childhood friend who remains very special. In all probability I shall see it again. The tagline of the film says, “Every child is special”. So is the film.
This blog is dedicated to a friend who I have known for 8 years. All these years, dear and close that he has been, I’ve always considered him one of those guys who lives in an I-Me-Myself mould. I’ve often told him that he is incapable of human emotions ;-)
This New Year’s eve, I accidentally discovered that he has been inspired by Steve Waugh and is involved in his own way with Udayan, an institution in Kolkata. I was touched.
This one is for you Dr. Harsh Jagnani.
The walk from the highway to the foot of the hill was interesting. Toddling through the narrow alleys in the village, avoiding a stream of sewage water here and animal dung there, we scrambled through the village. We were quite a sight for the villagers. Four young men, wearing clothes that were urban, wearing shades and speaking in English; this would be a rare sight in their village- I’m sure.
One moment that remains frozen in my memory was when we passed by a school. Yes, a school where, children- about 9-10 years old, were sitting on the floor and, in a chorus were repeating what their teacher was saying.
Now, my friend Vaibhav has an interesting personality. He is much more urbane than any sophistication you could have ever seen. You could mistake him for a resident NRI ;-)
Naturally, the children were excited upon seeing such a rare guest. Their excitement was palpable- some of them cheering him and peeping through the grills of the window that separated them from us. Vaibhav acknowledged this attention and eventually had to wave back (just like the Dreamy girl in Om Shanti Om).
The other three of us, like the valets of a celebrity smiled and walked behind :-)
This was one of the few instances that I could recollect from my past as I made my way through the exit after seeing Taare Zameen Par.
The end titles of Taare Zameen Par are special for more than a single reason. Each person associated with the movie has been acknowledged- the titles don’t seem to rush past. While reading each name, you also get to see a documentary footage of children of different races, regions and in different moods. It is certainly rare that you are watching a movie for the third time and you still remain glued to your seat till that last film of the climatic titles. When you get out of the hall, you are moved- your heart filled with emotion- of joy and sorrow; when you are numb reflecting upon the experience you have been through in the hall; when you thank God for the wonderful life you have been blessed with.
Rarely do you see movies that entertain and enlighten. Hats off to the team of Taare Zameen Par for making such a movie.
The movie is like a beautiful poem you are reading on celluloid; it is like a beautiful painting you want to savour…
How’s this for the lyrics of a song in the background- “akela nahi main, khuli aankhon se neend mein chalta, girta zyada kam sambhalta, phir bhi na koi shaq na shubha, niklega phir se- sooraj jo dooba, hairat ho sabko aisa, ajooba hai mera jahaan”. This one is written by Amole Gupte and is perhaps, Adnan Sami’s best song yet.
There are facets of our life that we take- as a way of life; like the Chhotus who clean our dining tables in restaurants and dhabas; like Kakes who make the thela wala chaai… like the unclad, dirty-nosed infant-kids wandering near your homes that make you sigh in disgust, like the teenager who still can’t eat himself or do those basic things that you and I do easily as a part of our routines. How’s this for the lyrics of a song- “Duniya sajee, tere liye, khud ko zara pechchaan tu. Tu dhoop hai, jham se bikhar, tu hai nadi, oh bekhabar. Beh chal kahin, ud chal kahin, dil khush jahaan, teri toh manzil hai wahi”
I wonder how many of us actually get to “jham se bikhar”.
I do not know the long term impact this film will have. But I’m sure, anybody who liked the movie would pause for at least that fraction of a second the next time he/she sees these scenes of a childhood lost.
The characters in the film are well etched out. Simple scenes like Aamir getting out of the front seat of the taxi convey a lot about the character. In the animated sequence (3*9=3), the child shows an awareness of Jupiter being much larger than earth or the ring around Saturn clearly showing that he is not dumb.
The interactions between the Aamir’s character and the child’s father are beautifully made. Look at the body language of the father when he tells Aamir that he and wife know all about dyslexia and care for the child; and eventually when he leaves the campus. Look at the scene when the parents hear the words of appreciation for the child; unable to take it, just as a man coming out of a dark room into the sunny day would stand with eyes tightly closed for some time.
The most appealing scene was towards the end when the child realizes that it is him that Aamir has painted. The way the protagonists look at each other is truly amazing.
I have seen this film with my parents, then alone and then again with a childhood friend who remains very special. In all probability I shall see it again. The tagline of the film says, “Every child is special”. So is the film.
This blog is dedicated to a friend who I have known for 8 years. All these years, dear and close that he has been, I’ve always considered him one of those guys who lives in an I-Me-Myself mould. I’ve often told him that he is incapable of human emotions ;-)
This New Year’s eve, I accidentally discovered that he has been inspired by Steve Waugh and is involved in his own way with Udayan, an institution in Kolkata. I was touched.
This one is for you Dr. Harsh Jagnani.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
khoya khoya ...
Am Back...after a hiatus...
The last few weeks have been hectic, yet not interesting. I've, with some difficulty, managed to catch up on almost all the films that are playing in town. Some of them were utter trash- 10 kahaaniyaan and Om Shanti Om.
Goal was okay. So was Saawariya. Khoya Khoya Chand was good. Kingdom was interesting. Aaja Nachle is worth a repeat watch.
10 kahaaniyaan is a movie that should not have released. Except the story of Amrita Singh & Minisha Lamba, and the one with Mandira Bedi, no other story was worth watching. This film is not even a remedy for an insomniac.
Om Shanti Om was crap. Deepika Padukone looks deadly and the scene of SRK imitating Rajnikant was good. Otherwise, it was bad. Getting some stars to come in for guest appearances does not act as a camouflage for flawed direction. Recognising the crew in the climax, however, was a good idea.
Goal was a time-pass. Bipasha Basu has been under utilized. The "Billo Rani" song is mast.
Saawariya was okay, and not as bad as people say it is. It is slow, but, the effort to make each scene aesthetically appealing shows. It no doubt, is the best music album of the year. The new comers are both good.
Khoya Khoya Chand takes you straight to the 50's and 60's. Sheer indulgence of a director who brings that era in front of your eyes. I found it to be a more complex story than Zubeida, but its equally lovable. Contrary to what people say, I think Shiney Ahuja and Soha were both good in the movie. The character of Vinay Pathak reminded me strongly of a classmate from my post grad days ;-)
Kingdom was a good time pass... Amazing editing and screenplay... I liked the climax of the film...when Fox reveals what he tells the heroine when he sees her crying...
The pick of these was definitely Aaja Nachle... Madhuri Dixit can still electrify a screen after all these years and a couple of kids... The film has a very positive feel about it...The song "Oh re Piya" keeps playing in my mind...amazing song...The one dialogue I loved is when Madhuri tells Konkona.. "agar kaam samajhke karo, toh mushkil hai... agar pyar samjhke karo, toh... kuch bhi nahi...
The last few weeks have been hectic, yet not interesting. I've, with some difficulty, managed to catch up on almost all the films that are playing in town. Some of them were utter trash- 10 kahaaniyaan and Om Shanti Om.
Goal was okay. So was Saawariya. Khoya Khoya Chand was good. Kingdom was interesting. Aaja Nachle is worth a repeat watch.
10 kahaaniyaan is a movie that should not have released. Except the story of Amrita Singh & Minisha Lamba, and the one with Mandira Bedi, no other story was worth watching. This film is not even a remedy for an insomniac.
Om Shanti Om was crap. Deepika Padukone looks deadly and the scene of SRK imitating Rajnikant was good. Otherwise, it was bad. Getting some stars to come in for guest appearances does not act as a camouflage for flawed direction. Recognising the crew in the climax, however, was a good idea.
Goal was a time-pass. Bipasha Basu has been under utilized. The "Billo Rani" song is mast.
Saawariya was okay, and not as bad as people say it is. It is slow, but, the effort to make each scene aesthetically appealing shows. It no doubt, is the best music album of the year. The new comers are both good.
Khoya Khoya Chand takes you straight to the 50's and 60's. Sheer indulgence of a director who brings that era in front of your eyes. I found it to be a more complex story than Zubeida, but its equally lovable. Contrary to what people say, I think Shiney Ahuja and Soha were both good in the movie. The character of Vinay Pathak reminded me strongly of a classmate from my post grad days ;-)
Kingdom was a good time pass... Amazing editing and screenplay... I liked the climax of the film...when Fox reveals what he tells the heroine when he sees her crying...
The pick of these was definitely Aaja Nachle... Madhuri Dixit can still electrify a screen after all these years and a couple of kids... The film has a very positive feel about it...The song "Oh re Piya" keeps playing in my mind...amazing song...The one dialogue I loved is when Madhuri tells Konkona.. "agar kaam samajhke karo, toh mushkil hai... agar pyar samjhke karo, toh... kuch bhi nahi...
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
D'zires UnLtd.
Woh Kehte hain na...jo hota hai, achche ke liye hota hai...
As a child I remember having wanted to be many things- Astronaut, Mathematician, cricketer, Pilot, etc etc..
I took my first blow when realization dawned on me that I neither had the talent or the physical build to be a cricketer. One of the most painful sights from my childhood remains the sight of the first ball i bowled (during the selection for the "under-14" Thiruvananthapuram district team). The ball did not reach the batsman. People around me laughed. My heart knew the dream was over. The eternal optimist that I am, I went on to bowl 5 more balls, 3 of which never reached the batsman and the other two were whacked. I never bothered to see how far the ball went.
Planes always fascinated me. And so did Spacecrafts. One of my Mom's friends used to and still refers to me as "Rakesh Sharma", after India's first cosmonaut. As childhood gave way to teens, and the ideals of nationalism began to creep in, plus with India's 50th year of independence around the corner, the desire to become an astronaut got channelized into a desire to fly fighter planes. I knew I wanted to be a pilot in the Indian Air Force.
I was convinced that my very purpose in life was to fly planes and bomb India's enemies. However, there was a major obstacle- na, not one, but more than one. I was afraid of heights- big time. I remember climbing up the stairs of district center Janakpuri (those days it used to be absolutely deserted) and gazing down from up above the ground to break the fear. It took time, but, I was no longer afraid of heights. The next big problem was my own physical stamina which was pathetic. I started walking- mornings and evenings. And eventually started running- daily.
Kargil happened in 1999. That only added fuel to my dreams. I witnessed the funeral procession of a war-hero... also the scene on TV where a widow saluted the casket of her husband... I have never remembered moments when I was more pumped up.
My dream... my desire to get into the Air-Force only grew stronger. I was now running 14 kilometres a day. I nursed no fear. Every night I slept with dreams of wearing the blue uniform. Every morning I opened my eyes inside the cockpit.
I eventually went on to clear the written exam to get through National Defence Academy (NDA). I eventually went for the Assessment Center to Air Force Selection Board (AFSB), Mysore, in May 2000. It is a 5-6 day process and by the 3rd day I was convinced that I had focused on everything but for mental/ emotional strength. Staying away from parents in tough conditions was something I had never prepared myself for. I always knew that it would be tough, but my attachment to my dream was so overpowering that I thought nothing of such an eventuality where I may not be emotionally prepared to go through the rigour.
In the next 2-3 days I saw my dream land (not to be confused with dreamland). The landing was gentle, but, the impact was shattering. Zor ka jhatka, dheere se laga. I was stripped off my desired blue uniform.
I came back to Delhi, and went on to graduate in IT...During my years of graduation, I remember waking in the middle of the night expecting myself in cockpit of a fighter plane.
I remember a family friend mentioning during a discussion that, you don't have to fight for your country to prove your patriotism. It took time, but I eventually internalized it. These days, I make it a point to donate blood at the Armed forces transfusion centre thrice a year.
Looking back, it was good that I did not get through the Air-Force. The Air-Forced deserved better candidates and I deserved a different career.
My next big desire was to get into XLRI to pursue my MBA in HR. I cracked the written exam. I was all pumped for the interview. One of the most painful days from my days of young adulthood remains the day when I had the interview. In six minutes, I was slaughtered. It was deja-vu. I saw another dream land. And this time, zor ka jhatka, zor se laga.
XLRI eventually rejected my candidature. However, it is a tribute to the great institute that, even the letter of rejection is so beautifully drafted that I still preserve it.
I eventually "settled" for MHROD. The two years were absolutely beautiful. The 2 years wiped any remains of the debris left of any of my crash lands.
In retrospect, I would trade those 2 years@MHROD for nothing in the world. And I believe this is not empty rhetoric.
As a believer in destiny and a power up above the world so high.... each of these blows has helped me evolve... I guess people are right when they say what fun would a road be without detours and speed-breakers.
My good friend and Senior, Navnit, was talking to me about this theme...in a different context... We were discussing heart breaks when he said " Never make a person a priority in your life, when you are just an option in his/ her life"... I liked the sentence...
Quite a lot of my desires have met a successful end. I always rejoiced at the triumphs.
Some desires have gone incomplete and in hindsight I thank God for the same.
Woh Kehte hain na...jo hota hai, achche ke liye hota hai...
Sahi kehte hain....
As a child I remember having wanted to be many things- Astronaut, Mathematician, cricketer, Pilot, etc etc..
I took my first blow when realization dawned on me that I neither had the talent or the physical build to be a cricketer. One of the most painful sights from my childhood remains the sight of the first ball i bowled (during the selection for the "under-14" Thiruvananthapuram district team). The ball did not reach the batsman. People around me laughed. My heart knew the dream was over. The eternal optimist that I am, I went on to bowl 5 more balls, 3 of which never reached the batsman and the other two were whacked. I never bothered to see how far the ball went.
Planes always fascinated me. And so did Spacecrafts. One of my Mom's friends used to and still refers to me as "Rakesh Sharma", after India's first cosmonaut. As childhood gave way to teens, and the ideals of nationalism began to creep in, plus with India's 50th year of independence around the corner, the desire to become an astronaut got channelized into a desire to fly fighter planes. I knew I wanted to be a pilot in the Indian Air Force.
I was convinced that my very purpose in life was to fly planes and bomb India's enemies. However, there was a major obstacle- na, not one, but more than one. I was afraid of heights- big time. I remember climbing up the stairs of district center Janakpuri (those days it used to be absolutely deserted) and gazing down from up above the ground to break the fear. It took time, but, I was no longer afraid of heights. The next big problem was my own physical stamina which was pathetic. I started walking- mornings and evenings. And eventually started running- daily.
Kargil happened in 1999. That only added fuel to my dreams. I witnessed the funeral procession of a war-hero... also the scene on TV where a widow saluted the casket of her husband... I have never remembered moments when I was more pumped up.
My dream... my desire to get into the Air-Force only grew stronger. I was now running 14 kilometres a day. I nursed no fear. Every night I slept with dreams of wearing the blue uniform. Every morning I opened my eyes inside the cockpit.
I eventually went on to clear the written exam to get through National Defence Academy (NDA). I eventually went for the Assessment Center to Air Force Selection Board (AFSB), Mysore, in May 2000. It is a 5-6 day process and by the 3rd day I was convinced that I had focused on everything but for mental/ emotional strength. Staying away from parents in tough conditions was something I had never prepared myself for. I always knew that it would be tough, but my attachment to my dream was so overpowering that I thought nothing of such an eventuality where I may not be emotionally prepared to go through the rigour.
In the next 2-3 days I saw my dream land (not to be confused with dreamland). The landing was gentle, but, the impact was shattering. Zor ka jhatka, dheere se laga. I was stripped off my desired blue uniform.
I came back to Delhi, and went on to graduate in IT...During my years of graduation, I remember waking in the middle of the night expecting myself in cockpit of a fighter plane.
I remember a family friend mentioning during a discussion that, you don't have to fight for your country to prove your patriotism. It took time, but I eventually internalized it. These days, I make it a point to donate blood at the Armed forces transfusion centre thrice a year.
Looking back, it was good that I did not get through the Air-Force. The Air-Forced deserved better candidates and I deserved a different career.
My next big desire was to get into XLRI to pursue my MBA in HR. I cracked the written exam. I was all pumped for the interview. One of the most painful days from my days of young adulthood remains the day when I had the interview. In six minutes, I was slaughtered. It was deja-vu. I saw another dream land. And this time, zor ka jhatka, zor se laga.
XLRI eventually rejected my candidature. However, it is a tribute to the great institute that, even the letter of rejection is so beautifully drafted that I still preserve it.
I eventually "settled" for MHROD. The two years were absolutely beautiful. The 2 years wiped any remains of the debris left of any of my crash lands.
In retrospect, I would trade those 2 years@MHROD for nothing in the world. And I believe this is not empty rhetoric.
As a believer in destiny and a power up above the world so high.... each of these blows has helped me evolve... I guess people are right when they say what fun would a road be without detours and speed-breakers.
My good friend and Senior, Navnit, was talking to me about this theme...in a different context... We were discussing heart breaks when he said " Never make a person a priority in your life, when you are just an option in his/ her life"... I liked the sentence...
Quite a lot of my desires have met a successful end. I always rejoiced at the triumphs.
Some desires have gone incomplete and in hindsight I thank God for the same.
Woh Kehte hain na...jo hota hai, achche ke liye hota hai...
Sahi kehte hain....
Monday, August 20, 2007
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