Saturday, September 5, 2009

saying goodbye

Every time we say good bye I die a little
Every time we say goodbye I wonder why a little
The Gods above and the earth below
Not on my side any more
Why else would they conspire to let you go
The Hate towel now soaking wet and heavy
Makes the Love towel seem small and dry
Every time that we say goodbye

The treacherous heart says this too shall pass
Look how everything usually does
Says the times will roll and tears will dry
Even we though we are now saying goodbye

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Aifi aifi..kaifi kaifi film banaayi hai Vishal ne baba!!

This is one film that seems to have set the blogosphere ablaze and rightly so. Several more accomplished reviewers have penned their thoughts on it before me and these are some of the ones that I really like.
Everyone I know has watched this by now, so there's no question of spoilers any more. I myself am very proud to have watched it twice- a rare feat for me that even the HUSBAND must doff his hat to!
I liked, no loved Kaminey because-
This is unabashedly about the brotherhood of the Kaminey-(wonder whether rascals/scoundrels would ever have the same wretched feel as saying 'Kaminey' does). Even your own heart betrays you ,as Gulzar Sa'ab (whose talent and simplicity never ceases to amaze me ) puts it- 'ek dil se dosti thi..yeh huzoor bhi kaminey'.Finally a Hindi film that thrives on the grey and possibly black in all of us- Sweetie, played by Priyanka Chopra pulls a fast one (pretends to stammer) to catch Guddu's eye and subsequently win his heart and coax him to practice unsafe sex!
Guddu, who is incapable of defending himself from the goons sent by Sweety's brother Bhope Bhau, manages to notice hat Sweety does not really stammer in course of the high voltage drama and action and accuse her of dishonest and betrayal when she has just saved his life, he is willing to dabble in some 'coke' trading when push comes to shove while advocating truth and honesty all along, Bhope bhau would gladly change his party, political allegiances and identity for ten crores and trade his sister for a generous contribution to his party fund by a certain builder! You get the drift...
However, Vishal's signature touch lies in giving each of these grey/black characters a redeeming feature which ensures that none of them remain cardboard cut outs, but come across as real with flaws, warts and all. So, Charlie, Guddu's evil twin , a small time crook in a horserace fixing gang wants a mere ten lakhs even though the 'cocaine' hes chanced upon is worth ten crores. Why? He wants to be a bookie and it costs just that much to set up a booking counter. Endearing, eh?
'Kaminey' takes the depiction of ironies to an altogether different level, pretty much the way our lives do. While, Guddu is propagating the message of safety loud, clear and musically as part of an ANTI-AIDS campaign by his NGO, his girlfriend sweetie announces that she is pregnant because their practices were not so 'safe', and to top it, this happened despite her tall claims of being a home science topper who was over confident that she would be 'safe' on that day.
Bhope Bhau's political career is based on the 'Maharashtra for Marathis' ideology, and at the pinnacle of his success (as his sidekick says- 'dus saal lag gaye bhau kalikh saaf karte karte.. phir mila interview TV pe live'), his sister Sweetie marries Sharma ji (flawless performance by Shahid Kapoor as the do-gooder, keep it safe and simple Guddu) from Barabanki!
When corrupt cop Lobo questions Guddu (mistaken to be Charlie)
This is retro with a twist in a way seldom attempted before in Hindi cinema. Vishal takes the classic twin formula (bachpan mein bichchde hue judvaa bhai), gives it a twist in the form of their individual quirks- one stammers and the other lisps his 's' es to 'f's ('f' ko 'f' bolta hai), one is good and has his trajectory planned out with defnite timelines for sex, marriage, honeymoon while the other is a rookie , currently small time with aspirations of becoming a big bookie and lives by the maxim that life gives you two choices- shortcut and chchota shortcut and you are what you are based on the road you leave, not the one you take! Now add to this a trio of eccentric Bengali brothers(Charlie's gang), a spunky, gritty Marathi mulgi portrayed par excellence by Priyanka Chopra(Sweetie- Guddu's girlfriend), corrupt customs officials, Bhope bhau and his Marathi political gang, Tashi- the north eastern drug warlord and his allies from Angola , a guitar with cocaine worth ten crores and then let all of these people's paths cross each other overnight in Mumbai ending with a fiery climax, guns blazing, blood and gore, emotions, drama, love, blackmail, finally reuniting the estranged brothers. What you get is this smart caper 'Kaminey'. I don't care whether this was inspired by Tarantino or Guy Ritchie, coz Vishal himself is inspiring enough for me- all his films so far have been refreshingly different(Makdee, Maqbool, Omkara, Blue Umbrella), he is as great a composer as he is a singer, the Vishal Gulzar chemistry is sheer magic right from the Maachis days and I could go on and on..

Watch 'Kaminey' for all these reasons and a few more.
This is the best repertoire of supporting actors that Ive seen in quite some time , apart from Dilli 6
- the new Bengali actor as Mikhail, the coke sniffing youngest brother in the Bengali gang is superb, so is Amol Gupte as Bhope Bhau, Tenzing Nima as Tashi to name a few.
This is clearly a coming -of -age performance by Shahid whom I would have been ready to bet my money on since his first film , but the poor fellow has had a run of bad luck for far too long , not to mention the unnecessary liason with Kareena Kapoor- whose Geet overshadowed Shahid's far more mature and controlled performance of Aditya in Jab we Met.
I loved Priyanka's portrayal of the street smart Marathi mulgi who organizes her own wedding , honeymoon with gusto amidst and despite threats from her brother and his gang. Her Marathi sounds authentic enough and the mannerisms are real and endearing- so her 'aai shapaths' and 'shee baba' s succeed in places that Aishwarya's very affected 'eesh' did not in Devdas.
As it happens in real life, your Marathi/ Bengali neighbour never bothers to translate his phrases for you-neither does Vishal and just like in real life, you do get the gist!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

All my bags are packed ,Im ready to go

I hope to see you,
I hope to hear the magic words,
Instead I see boxes everywhere,
Brown, straight, tilted, overweight, half full and half empty
Interesting how these boxes are filled every time something else is emptied,
Like life in a city much loved and lived in
or life beyond a relationship much longed for
The last time I put stuff inside boxes, I boxed other stuff out of my head
Stuff like 'one needs a professional identity for sustenance' or that 'indefinite sabbaticals are hazardous to the body and soul'
This time as I stuff them
I wonder if my insides have been emptied out already and I can feel nothing no more

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Self Promotion

  • I find it amusing how any kind of endorsement seems like an ego boost- I think it is the 'good student' mindset within me that I try very hard to repress .
    I enrolled myself on Indiblogger and the mere approval is making me jump with joy- I must be the epitome of approval seeking behaviour coz it extends to communities in the virtual world as well!!
    This seems like a good opportunity to talk about why I blog and why I will continue..
    I entered the blogosphere inspired by some fantastic bloggers and their pots, and finding myself wanting to say more than I would have posted on their 'comments' space about the same as well as other things.
    After having debated endlessly with myself about 'looking bad'(in my head, my virtual identities needed to stand out and look good as well) as I assumed the following-

  • I am incapable of consistency in all my pastimes, which would mean that my postings would be too few, too erratic..

  • Blogging under my real name has the potential danger of coming in the way of writing what I might really want to write about my life and the people in least every once in a while

  • Who would want to read a blog comprising of postings on eclectic interests and half baked opinions on so many things under the sun ..where the mood, tone, form of writing would constantly vary?

However, as braved what i imagined would be akin to being a laughing stock and took the plunge, I realised that I was only blogging to be heard and the fact that so many people actually stopped by to read my writings (hey, silent readers- please lave comment and criticisms and witticisms or whatever you can-its like leaving foot marks in a house that you visited), would be reason enough to say whatever it is that I feel like saying..

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The Unbearable Lightness of Being (nothing to do with Kundera)

Get up in the morning and immediately get depressed.

Reason being? 'I have nothing to do today'.Now, this is as close to the truth as pink is to black, since you have the dishes, a gourmand appetitie to satiate (your own that is), a choice between the vacuuming/ doing the laundry or cleaning some corner of the house that is long overdue (and thanks to procrastination, its usually more than just one of the above), not to mention a plethora of 'Hello xxx... im new to the city and would like to meet you for an informational meeting' mails that have to be written everyday..

So, there, the first lie has been busted. The result- you have no right to get depressed.

True to your Cribber-self, you immediately move to the nest big question- 'ok, I have lots to do, so where do I start'?

Start with a cuppa 'chai'- but its not just a cup. In the quest for a life less ordinary, you have effortlessly complicated every single thing- so on one hand there are multiple options and on the other, multiple dilemmas. There is Earl Grey, Lemon grass green, Darjeeling thunderbolt (second flush), floral jasmine, rose tea, cinnamon tea...

So instead of brewing a pot, or boiling a few leaves and getting on with it, you ponder for several minutes to uderstand what 'tea' type you might be for the day.

The blues? hmmm..nothing better than the invigorating smell of cinnamon.

Feeling hopeful? Feel like you could get a lot of work done today? This invariably means you might want to opt for something green, lemon grass.
Feel adventurous? Floral jasmine..a whiff of fresh jasmine infused into the sanitised air of the apartment- no room freshener required after that.This could go on..but you get the general drift.

By now, your day is either off to a flying start and you feel upbeat with that cup and your choice of brew or you could begin to ponder once again about those existential questions- "Who am I? What am I doing here? What is it that I was meant to do in life"? A wise friend of mine calls it mind-fucking and mind-fucking it is except that you are really the one getting fucked in the process. Imagine - you are on the patio of a very high floor of a highrise, looking down at the cars that resemble multicoloured matchboxes, the hills on one side, and a panoramic view of the town on the other, and all that you can think of is that this is one more day without a mission. Moreover, this is despite the fact that you are not too sureof your mission in life anyway.How fucked do you have to be to feel that way?

So as the day moves on, so do you- from the table (used a work station ever so often), to the couch, to the bed and seldom would you like to bother your legs with having to hold your body weight. Somewhere, between the re-runs of the shows that you have forced yourself to believe are the very source of your sustenance and the numerous updates of status messages on Facebook and google talk, that question rears up its ugly head again-"What have I really accomplished today''? If I were to be gone tomorrow, would i like it that on the last day of my life I did absolutely nothing of any consequence.

As you brood over this unanswerable question, the real thing hits you- What should I make for dinner today?

Monday, August 10, 2009

Apologies to the Hindi stalwarts- my vain attempt using the Hindi typewriter...

प्रेम कहानी में 'twist'

गुबली ने बोली एक सच्ची बात
गुली ने घुमाया उल्टा हाथ
कहता है ;यह बात कोई नयी नही’
जो तुम करते हो वोःसही नही
आख़िर दिल मेरा तोड़ोगे कितनी बार
हो चुका यह कमबख्त कब का तार-तार
कब तक सहता रहूँ मैं वार
क्यों मान लूँ करते हो तुम मुझ से प्यार

सोचा था हमने हमशा रहेंगे साथ
हमेशा में नही थी कोई 'टाइम लिमिट' की बात
फिर भी जब हुआ कोई तकरार
तुम ने किया मानने से इनकार
कहते रहे कोई बड़ी बात नही
तुम हो वही और मैं भी हूँ वहीँ
प्यार कर देता है हर मुश्किल को सही
पर चलते चलते बिछड़ गए हमारे रस्ते कहीं
तुम बढ़ चले और हम रह गए वहीँ
अब तुम हो कहीं और हम कहीं

उम्मीद है यह रास्ते अलग होने से पहले दोबारा मीलेन्गे
चाहत के यह सूखे फूल फिर से खिलेंगे...

Friday, August 7, 2009

An ode to intolerance

Thank you intolerance,
I know you are not exactly popular- perhaps far from it
No one sings you praises
Most would love to pretend that you never paid them a visit
The nobler among us pledge to overcome you
They write books condemning you
I know that you could cause much damage- killing for race, colour, creed,
And sometimes fathering a rather toxic, despicable breed

But on second thoughts, I’m glad that you are there
You have helped me escape fools and sycophants
You helped me invent lines other than ‘Oh so cute’ for infants
Thanks to you, I know that I may leave the room while Star Trek is on
And not forgive those whose deceit ushers a new low among moron(s)
You taught me to love a man without loving everything about him
You said it was ok to not pretend that mediocrity was just fine
Or to wish that the best things in the world were all mine

So here’s what I ask of you old friend,
Is there a way that we could both stay?
You keep a low profile, while I try to I stick it out?
You don’t lash out when they come to get you as so very often as they do,
While I master the art of concealing that like you as much as I do?