Kurbaan

This is not a usual ‘Oh-what-a-lovely flick’ post. This movie has been the worst movie seeing experience I’ve had in a long time. I am really glad that I didn’t watch it in the theatres when it came out last year. Somehow the name Karan Johar associated with any movie is a big turn-off factor for me, although Wake Up Sid was an exception.

I’ve been listening to Kurbaan songs a lot of late. ‘Dua hai’ and ‘Kurbaan hua’ are both very passionate and likeable tracks. I’ve started to appreciate the actor in Saif after seeing LoveAajKal. Vivek Oberoi, I think has always been underappreciated. So I finally decided to watch this movie, even though I am no fan of Kareena. But it turned out to be a horrible torture. I just wonder why didn’t I turn off my system, may be expecting that something would happen eventually in the movie.

Saif, dude, even though you had a substantial role, I was still reminded of the Saif of 90s, who was always a nuisance. You’ve got to stay away from such flicks. Vivek Oberoi, even though I like you, I’ve got to say …….only God, sorry Allah can save your movie career. Om Puri, you were average. And I feel like throttling Kiran Kher for that fake Afghani accent.

It was an overall failure. Script didn’t have much to offer. Dialogues were ordinary. There was not a moment where I could feel the intensity. Hell the word ‘Kurbaan’ itself should create those emotions and passions, but the execution and the final product were rather shallow. So many delicate issues were dealt with immaturity. And to top it all, it was 150 minutes.

I think the movie’s fate on the Box-Office was well deserved. It had to be a flop. It is only justified to see that even big names attached to the production can’t make the movie work all the time if the movie itself sucks.

CCDs…

This time, it was just a coffee, that too, a cold one. And I wondered even 3-4 bottles of beer don’t have such an effect on me. But then again, memories make you go real high, deep down the lanes of paths trodden, stupid actions, even stupider words and some rare heroic deeds. Naah, it’s not going to one of those philosophical posts where even I get confused by the time I end them.

It’s a post dedicated to the CCDs. Just the name is enough for me to get into a real chatty mood. Over the last six months I’ve developed such an affinity for CCDs that I find them near me wherever I go. Innumerable are the hours I’ve spent gossiping at CCDs. I think I’ve developed some kind of nameless bond with CCDs. The fact that there is one in the campus of my company and another near my flat furthers this bond.

The ambience, lights, colors, soft music, and mute videos are a rare combination. Though I’ve by-hearted the menu by now, but I still fancy it. Our orders are usually decided even before we reach there. By our, I mean the gang over here in Bangalore. Spending some quality hours every weekend in a CCD has become a sacred ritual for us. Alok would have his ‘sizzling brownie topped with scoops of vanilla’. I’d keep on changing my taste, but ‘Solar Eclipse’ is the one for me. Sachin, of late, has started having the espresso shots. It tastes bitter, I wouldn’t have it. I find no machismo in doing shots of hot and neat espresso. I’d gladly do bottoms up of beer, but no espresso for me.

I feel that even a random or casual BC becomes a bit special if it has the CCD effect to it. I’ve always maintained that a CCD is a perfect place for a first date or any date for that matter. For the time you are in there it’s just you and your companions. I never feel such a different kind of experience any place else. It may be because I feel at home in a CCD, but still not at home (even home at times has some restrictions or limitations).

Once I was feeling rather weird, I was alone. So I picked up my novel and went to the CCD nearby and spent some quality hours of reading there. I think I’m going to develop this into a habit. Such is the fondness I’ve for CCDs.

In short, CCDs are now to me, what once CS (coffee shop@ IIIT-H) used to be.  I think that that’s the best accolade I can give to CCDs.

And I write this post at 1 AM on a Tuesday morning after having spent the wee hours of the Monday night in a CCD.

FILMFARE 2010

Not to say that I’ve developed an expertise on Bollywood, but I’ve followed it more closely last year than I ever did. Now that the most prestigious FilmFare Awards nominations are out, I’ve got a lot to say. So let’s discuss them categorically.

And the FilmFare for the best playback singer (Male) goes to Mohit Chauhan for Masakali, Delhi-6. I had a difficult time picking it over Dhan te Nan, Kaminey. If Masakali dominated the first half of 2009, Dhan te Nan dominated the second half.

And the FilmFare for the best playback singer (Female) goes to Rekha Bhardwaj for Genda Phool, Delhi-6. This song had that ‘hatke’ or an offbeat quality to it.

And the FilmFare for the best lyrics goes to Gulzaar for Kaminey, Kaminey. Gulzaar does wonders again with his blunt and yet beautiful words. Credit should be given to Vishal Bhardwaj for lending his voice to Gulzaar’s meticulous words. He almost made ‘Kaminey’ a revered lexicon.

And the FilmFare for the best music goes to Amit Trivedi for Dev D. Now this is a category I would like to talk the most about. There is no doubt about Rahman being a God when it comes to creating music and Delhi-6 is another sparkling addition to his innumerable accolades. But one cannot just ignore the genius behind the 18 songs which went into the making of Dev-D. Each one of these 18 tracks is unconventional. Most of these songs celebrate the darker side of life with humor. So I want this man to get the recognition for his brilliance. This won’t be disrespect to Rahman but a well deserved appreciation and acknowledgement to a lesser known star.

And the FilmFare for the best actor in a supporting role (Female) goes to Dimple Kapadia for Luck By Chance. This came as a total surprise to me. Dimple was old, graceful, arrogant, comic and sensuous at the same time in this role. I enjoyed each moment of her on screen presence in this flick. No other lady in this category stands a chance against her, as far as I am concerned.

And the FilmFare for the best actor in a supporting role (Male) goes to Amole Gupte for Kaminey. I didn’t have to scan the nominees’ list for this one. This was perhaps the easiest one. I don’t even know how to describe his role. It was just extremely likeable.

And the FilmFare for the best actor in a leading role (Female) goes to Deepika Padukone for Love Aaj Kal. There weren’t any ground breaking performances in this category this time around. Although Priyanka Chopra in Kaminey would have been my ideal pick if only her role was a little more detailed. Deepika in Love Aaj Kal made me watch this movie twice but not the same for Priyanka in Kaminey (though I’ve seen Kaminey a couple of times as well).

And the FilmFare for the best actor in a leading role (Male) goes to Shahid Kapoor for Kaminey. This was a gem of a performance by this young man, absolutely bowled over by the perfection of both the roles played by Shahid in this flick. Saif Ali Khan was a close second. I identified tid-bits of myself in the character played by Saif, the guy was so naturally confused, a rare feat for him. Aamir Khan has been constantly delivering stellar performances but as he doesn’t bother a leaf about awards so let’s not even bring him to the list. Ranbir Kapoor has been a delightful package even since his debut. All his performances have been quite refreshing, a future SRK in the making, maybe? As for Amitabh Bachchan, one phrase, “dude… grow up”. I’ve always maintained he’s more than often over-hyped. And the same euphoria carried him through the Paa mania. I would be really really really disappointed if he steals Shahid’s black lady.

And the FilmFare for the best director goes to Vishal Bhardwaj for Kaminey. This was a real tough one. Imitiaz Ali and Rajkumar Hirani did extraordinarily commendable job with Love Aaj Kal and 3 Idiots respectively. But Anurag Kashyap for Dev D and Vishal Bhardwaj for Kaminey stand out remarkably. Both ventured into the hitherto seldom touched territories. Dev D dealt with a very delicate yet realistic concept. Kaminey explored the darker side of human beings with a strange and crude sense of humor. Both these directors match the caliber of the very giants of Hollywood. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to claim that we have our own Guy Ritchie, Woody Allen and Martin Scorcese in the making. But in the end my heart goes out for Kaminey and hence the choice.

And the FilmFare for the best Film goes to Kaminey. I’ve already mentioned Shahid and Vishal. Add to it the amazing, high adrenaline pumping sound tracks, again by Vishal. This category too had tough competition. Dev D, 3 idiots, Love Aaj Kal were all equally good. But you’ve got to pick one.

P.S : I’m really glad I followed Bollywood this close. I’m really proud of some of the quality cinema that rolled out last year. Expecting an equally rocking 2010. It has already begun with a mind-blowing Ishqiya.

2 States

I am not a voracious reader, but I read a lot. When I find myself amongst learned and accomplished readers, I would skip mentioning that ‘Five Point Someone’ by Chetan Bhagat was one of the first few novels I read. He isn’t considered to be a serious writer. So if people say their favorite books are one of his, they are not to be taken seriously.

In the pursuit of becoming a serious reader or to be thought of as one, I find it hard to admit that I actually like Bhagat’s writings. But after reading his latest book ‘2 States’, I need to change my opinion.

First few lines and you are into the novel. You don’t feel the need to set some pace or to get familiar with the characters. You relate to them instantly. The issues dealt with are so commonplace. Conversations seem like ‘ ‘ve heard this before’. There aren’t any heroics or lectures. You can predict the story. You know what a character is going to say or do before you’ve actually read it. Then why read it at all?

Despite all of the above mentioned aspects, it’s a good read nonetheless. Let me tell you why. The simple reason, you just don’t want to put it down, it’s that good. It makes you laugh, yes it does. I’ve rarely laughed while reading except of course when I am reading P.G Wodehouse or sardar jokes by Khushwant Singh. There were moments when I’d to control my laughter at the very stupidity of a dialogue, a few very good one-liners which I rarely encounter in Indian English novels.

A North Indian Punjabi guy from Delhi falls in love with a South Indian, Tamilian (Madraasi as they are called by Punjabis) gal, that’s pretty much it. The whole novel deals with them, convincing their respective parents and families to say yes to their marriage, as simple as that. Well, that’s where the complications lie.

Being a North Indian, I could totally see what the fuss actually was about. And after spending four years in Hyderabad (though not exactly Chennai) I can say the fuss was not unfounded. The very meaning of the word ‘marriage’ has contrasting dissimilarities for these two classes or cultures. I’d refrain from getting into the details of this conflict, that’s for the reader to find out after or while reading the book.

What is worth mentioning about this piece of work is the true description and depiction of certain terms and phenomenon like being a IITian or a IIMian, being a Punjabi or a Madrasi, being a mother or a father, being a guy or a gal. I especially liked the part where he describes in great details what the parents (both Punjabi and Madrasi) look for in a prospective bride or groom.

There is a modern approach to the whole work keeping in mind the traditions.

Just to add to the masala, look for the description of a young, untamed Punjabi lass or the lines like ‘there is nothing as attractive as a pretty gal, similarly, there is nothing as repulsive as a cocky chick’  ‘put a guy and gal in a room, throw in some boring books and you know’ ‘if there were an entrance exam for the virginity I wouldn’t top it’ ‘are you pure? what was he looking for, ghee?’

I am going to rate it full 5 on 5, just for the sheer entertainment it provides and for the fact that it makes you laugh.

pheww… ratings

Pappu & Nauty have their breakfast together in a not so crowded cafeteria. As their names wouldn’t suggest, Pappu is naughty and Nauty is, well, pappu. Pappu can’t stop talking about any she who’s a five or above. Nauty is just happy to humor Pappu. At some rare occasions, Nauty would try to ogle a she, but Pappu would outrightly dismiss her saying she’s only two and a half.

Pappu’s rating scheme is very tough to score on. He himself is seven, or he thinks he is. What are the ratings based on, he doesn’t know. He just knows a number pops up when he sees. And so it was to happen, one day, a gal walked past them both, Nauty gazed in awe, Pappu put both hands down on the table and claimed, “now that’s what I call a six”. What???? He wanted to say a perfect ten, but then why a six? Even Nauty raised eyebrows on Pappu’s sacred ratings. But a man (or a kid) of his word, Pappu was to maintain that she was indeed a six.

As destiny (now that’s some heavy stuff) would have it, they saw the gal the next day, and the next day, and the next. Finally when it was well over a week, Pappu declared he had a thing for Chhaggi. He had to come up with this name when Nauty wouldn’t stop teasing him with ‘Chhakki…  Chhakki’, hard enough as it was to believe that even Nauty could tease, and that too over a gal, huh.

Pappu had never had any issues with ‘how to approach’ with shes who were seven or below, but to score a perfect ten was a different game altogether. It required sheer dedication. But as destiny (why does it keep coming) would have it, he spotted her sitting alone one day. Without a moment’s delay, he marched straight to her and froze when he got there. Nothing was coming to his mind, try harder as he did, “well… will you..” , oh she’s so stunning…. “ahem… will you have a cuppa coffee with me” (HOW LAME!!!  Of course she wouldn’t.. ). “What’s the occasion”, asked the gal. Oh she’s speaking, she speaks as well, trying even harder, (tell her it’s your b’day, your friends’, the world’s coming to an end, you’re from future and this cuppa coffee will decide the course of the future….tell her…. something), “How about I let it remain a mystery”, said Pappu finally. (AHH so now a gal will have a mysterious cuppa coffee with a total stranger….what a way to lose). “Thanks… but sorry”, the gal’s reply.

The rejection raised Pappu’s spirit beyond horizons. From then on, he would stare at the gal unashamedly, and with time, would get an unequally cold stare in response. ‘You never get a second chance to make the first impression’ read Pappu somewhere. But Pappu was ready to create that second chance, if only to…… Well it’s better to go down fighting than surrender, and so Pappu was getting ready for the final assault. And as the destiny (this culprit has its bloody hands all over it..huh) would have it, the gal disappeared. And Pappu was, well…. frustrated, for the starters.

After a week’s time, when Pappu could take it no more, he approached the gal’s friend. “Hey.. I am Pappu, I want to talk to you about a gal you usually have breakfast with”. “What gal..”, asked the friend with a genuine smile. “I think you know what gal”, Pappu insisted. “Yea, I know what gal”, with this answer the friend’s smile turned wicked (or Pappu must have been imagining). “I’ve been meaning to talk to her, but I’ve not seen her for a week now….”, quizzed Pappu. “Oh.. she’s coming late these days”, replied the friend, looking very concerned suddenly. His question answered, Pappu was about to turn with some satisfaction when the friend said, “may be she’s busy shopping with her husband” and left.

“I told you earlier, she had that air about her. I told you that her parents must be doing the talks of her marriage”, Nauty tried to provide some cold consolation. “C’mon man, that’s so ridiculous, how can you look at her and possibly say she’s married. We’ve been noticing her for over two months, no evidence, nothing, nothing that would say she’s…”, Pappu wanted to laugh at himself, though laughter was not even in a mile’s vicinity.

Pappu saw her again. She was in a short skirt. ‘Now a married gal won’t wear that to her office, would she?’ Pappu wanted to go to her but as the destiny (enough is enough) would have it, Nauty’s manager joined them at the breakfast table.

Pappu spotted her the next day. But he hesitated. Nauty couldn’t fathom. ‘What if she really is’ … ‘well fine.. you’ll get over it’ .. ‘will I..’ ‘of course you will… what a pussy’.

At last, Pappu got up, took those fifteen (yes he counted) steps to her table, ignored her friend and asked, “May I join you?” “Yea….sure…”, said she as if she was expecting it. “Did your friend tell you….” Pappu was about to complete when the gal interrupted, “why don’t you tell me”. Oh she’s a beauty.

“Well… as you must have noticed that I notice you… not notice… but look at you.. in a particular way.. Oh you couldn’t possibly be married”, Pappu couldn’t resist the dreaded words. “Well I am..”, replied the gal to clear the air once and for all. Pappu finally got the better of his nerve and continued, “Do you know how hard it is to believe that the gal, oh sorry, woman I’ve come to like and almost dreamt about is married. I still can’t believe I fell for a married lady. It far exceeds even my reputation.”

“It’s okay, happens. I don’t look married… well I’d take that as a compliment. But look, I like you, had I not been married I’d have approached you and only goodness knows what would have happened had you been married”, justified the gal with a care only gals are capable of exhibiting. “Well.. I’ll be okay.. even though it still is shocking. If I’ve been thinking about you, you deserve to know that”, now words were sailing smoothly for Pappu. “I am glad you kept the embarrassment at bay and approached me, kind of cute. I’ll see you” thus ended the conversation with the gal’s words.

Pappu got over her quicker than he had thought. And today Pappu saw the same gal. That inch long red sindoor, that long mangalsootra hanging around her neck, and her saree, every cell of hers screaming, “get it…. I’m married”. And Pappu realized, ‘she is not that good, definitely not a ten, seven may be, but six is more appropriate’.

On A Serious Note… (Not for everyone)

Running across the garden, chasing the butterfly, always in the hope, next moment is when it’ll be in my hands, but alas that moment is only in my heart, for the butterfly has gone out of my sight. I still don’t give up the chase, such strong is the hope within that I begin to see the butterfly when it’s not even there. But to what end? Will the ground give way to an edge or will the butterfly reappear? Lost in the battle thus, I begin to cloud the reality with the fantasy.

So blurred is the distinction sometimes that the more you think about it the more confounded you get. Things are so smooth sometimes that the reality appears perfect, but then the thought, how can the reality be perfect. Things are so gruesomely awful at times that to stay away from the reality, to imagine a wonder land and stay in it seems more conducive.

Being labeled a ‘coward’ for running away from reality doesn’t really matter. It’s only people who label other people, and do I really care about what people think. Not facing the reality, assuming everything is alright or will be, seems to work most of the times. I need not face it, I may work my way around it.

Relishing the pleasure that success brings after a hard day’s work is ecstatic. Says who? How about having the pleasure all day long and deferring the success to a later day? Lazy, says who? Having lived each moment knowing that you’ve squeezed the maximum pleasure out of it, greedy, says who? Being too passionate in relations and carefree in career, a failure, says who?

Before this post gets too much to be bearable, I’d like to end it here, adding that I harbor such thoughts either when I’ve too much on my plate to think about or when I’m totally idle. However weird I may be but I think many of the things mentioned above do make sense.

Change is constant but I’m still meeee….

Life has never been so easy. I am admitting this without any ‘touchwoods’. You work on the weekdays, celebrate and relax on the weekends. And these weekends keep coming regularly. Sometimes I wonder how come five working days fly away so quickly.

Prior to the last two months, I was busy thinking of the ways in which I’d carve out a niche for myself in the techie world. Now here I am, comfortably enjoying every challenge. Have I become a geek over night? Naah!!  but I’m just loving it here. Work is, to my surprise, interesting. The pace at which I’ve learnt in the past two months has been phenomenal, at least by my standards.

I’ve never felt so free. Free living, people love to call it independent living, but it’s actually just being totally free. You are earning. Need I say more? Money, your own money, brings such a sense of confidence (may be satisfaction or security for others).

Coming to point of living life like you want to, that’s very much happening and what’s not, is on the cards. One question that people still ask is whether or not I’m single. I’ve had this feeling, sharing it openly for the first time, that just for the sake of convincing a girl that I really like her or love her I can pretty much do that, with confidence. I’ve done it before only to find out that I really didn’t mean to do it. Girls, be more intelligent.

Coming to what’s happening, irrespective of the crap mentioned in the last paragraph, there is a gal I’ve taken a liking to. I’ll see her every day for a few moments. She will return the look. Who wouldn’t, when you’ll constantly stare? But it’s the approach with which I’m having troubles. Should I approach her in a ‘vintage me’ style, which involves a big bang ‘you are this, you are that, you are everything, you have the best assets I’ve ever seen on a skeleton’? Or should it be just a casual one. The casual one seems dicey. And the first one seems too out of line.

How serious am I? Don’t know, but never been confused with the approach. It’s the free me, the changed me, the new me with the old habits and old likings.

If the reader has confused reactions at this point, he’s actually read to the point. Coz, that’s how I am, confused, unintentionally though. There is a depth to this confusion but no content.