Life's short and i'm smoking it away,
who gives a dammn, i'm dying anyway,
slowly, painfuly, in this godforsaken ghetto
breath by breath, blow by blow
the red glow at the tip of my fingers
is the only thing alive, where gloom lingers
twisted in agony, by mandatory sacrifice
from the ashes, will a phoenix rise?
with my soul at stake, the dice rolls
in the fabric of reason, there are gaping holes
with every puff, a fleeting moment of bliss
what's the use,life has lost it's fizz
my bastion of principles, is riddled with holes
betrayed by society, compromised by moles
i fight a lost battle, to retain my hold
my soul haunts me, stand up for what you think, be bold.
i envy them, who traded their principles,
for gems, jewels and glittering metals
they live in comfort, oblivious of the world
for it was their soul they sold
i pity them too, for that's not life
measely cogs, in the mechanized strife
die or be tied to a yoke,
death i choose, and so i smoke
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Evolution of the media in a capitalist economy
Reuters admitted that it had engineered the photo of air strikes in Beirut to make the landscape look more devastated.
Now this is news. Till now I used to think that Slimes of India and Aaj Tak were the only ones privy to this cheap method of selling doctored news, but now the granddaddy of all news agencies surfaces with the sheepish grin, "well I hate to admit it, but I too do it"
Things like these have made me shun all news channels alike. God knows what fairy tales they might want to feed me.
Someone I know almost always says "we're living in the world of information. It is the information revolution." and gets so ecstatic about it, almost poignant. What use is all the information, if it is not true? What if it has been all dressed up and spiced to make it look good?
I used to think that the media has a social responsibility to show to the people what is happening around them. My civics teacher used to teach us about the pivotal role that media plays in a democracy. And when I used to read about the socialist governments and how they had a propaganda department so that they told people only what they wanted to. I used to think that in my country the media is free, it can show anything. Only now I realize it is also a propaganda driven agency, only the content is not dictated by the government but by capitalist forces. They show what sells, and not what should sell.
The media has evolved,it too has realized the strength of market forces, and now it bows to them.
Now this is news. Till now I used to think that Slimes of India and Aaj Tak were the only ones privy to this cheap method of selling doctored news, but now the granddaddy of all news agencies surfaces with the sheepish grin, "well I hate to admit it, but I too do it"
Things like these have made me shun all news channels alike. God knows what fairy tales they might want to feed me.
Someone I know almost always says "we're living in the world of information. It is the information revolution." and gets so ecstatic about it, almost poignant. What use is all the information, if it is not true? What if it has been all dressed up and spiced to make it look good?
I used to think that the media has a social responsibility to show to the people what is happening around them. My civics teacher used to teach us about the pivotal role that media plays in a democracy. And when I used to read about the socialist governments and how they had a propaganda department so that they told people only what they wanted to. I used to think that in my country the media is free, it can show anything. Only now I realize it is also a propaganda driven agency, only the content is not dictated by the government but by capitalist forces. They show what sells, and not what should sell.
The media has evolved,it too has realized the strength of market forces, and now it bows to them.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The roadside boy- english translation
I'm posting a translation of my earlier post. I'd try and include my perceptions as well.
"what's your name?"
"Shankar"
"how old are you?"
"twelve"
"What do you do, I mean, apart from sitting at the shop?"
"Arrey bhaiya, I study" this sentence had a tinge of pride, partly because he was thinking I was not expecting this answer. The italicized words are a very common mode of address, it means big brother.
"Oh good, which class are you in?" I replied.
"Seventh"
"but you look like a 5th grader. Which school?"
"Government middle school no.4"
"Do the teachers teach there??" Now this is a very common perception that government school teachers are no good, and hence my remark.
" Earlier there used to be a lot of dawdling, but now new teachers have come, they're foreigners, and teach well"
"Foreigners?? You must be joking, must be from some other city, maybe Delhi, not foreigners"
"No bhaiya, she's so fair, surely she's a foreigner." Here it is apparent the still prevailing dogma that fair skinned people are superior and come from far off lands. Something the British were very successful in drilling in all Indian minds.
"What is the school fees?"
"Nothing, we even get the textbooks for free, we only need to buy the notebooks"
"And do you get the mid-day meal?" This is a scheme introduced by the government to make poor people send their children to school, provide mid-day meals.
"No, that is only till class fifth. There is a boy in out school who failed deliberately, so that he keeps getting the food." Now this shows how 'effective' the government scheme has been and how the poor perceive it.
" Don't you do things like this. Study well and you'll get food automatically"
" One never gets food automatically, you have to work for it, no matter you study or not"
He said mockingly.
Now this shut me up completely and I changed the topic. But the comment has had a profound impression on me. Not that I did not know this, but it being put this way by a 12 year old, somehow shook me. I get food everyday, easily. I take it for granted. Now there is hard work involved in this, but I never see it as closely as this young boy does, and hence the down to earth comment.
Now as I said, the new city transit system introduced by the government is a source of many an excited conversation. This might seem very strange, but one needs to be an Indian to actually grasp the novelty of these spick-span buses running on time.
One of these buses just passed, and I asked.
" Have you taken a ride on the new bus"
" yeah, many times. It's fantabulous. Our Indore is developing too."
Hearing development the way he pronounced, I mockingly ask
"development, what does it mean??"
" it means, the coming of newer things to the city, the beautification of the city, people getting jobs. You know bhaiyya 4 people of my colony are employed by the service."
This is how he perceives development. I observe that the effects of these 'developments' are more direct and close to these people than anyone else.
" Do you know how to drive??"
" I've driven a luna many times" A luna is a small two wheeled scooter, without gears. The simplest of al motorized vehicles to drive.
"doesn't the police fine you? I mean you're 12, legally not allowed to drive"
" No the don't. After all they too know that I do not have much to give them, why would they waste their sweat on me then"
It is very commonly known and experienced that the local police force is corrupt, and take small bribes in return of overlooking small crimes, like underage driving. The thing here to observe is the boy's conscious acceptance of the fact that he is poor.
Again I was at a loss of what to say. This time he asked me a question.
" have you been to treasure island"
Now treasure island is a new mall in our city, and it is like the biggest news to most people since the invention of the telephone. Again, it'd be difficult to understand the fixation with a shopping mall if you're not Indian. It's like this apparently inaccessible 'foreign' item brought to their doorstep.
"yes I have"
"What a great place it is. The bijli ki sidhiyaan (the escalator) are fantastic. They take you up and bring you down, automatically Mangal City (another mall) is useless, they only have the up escalator. It's like as if they want you to stay there forever, it's one-way."
having cracked a joke, he laughs,one of the most beautiful laughs I've heard in a while.
All the time I was mesmerised by the shine in the boy's eyes and his easy guiltless attitude, something we can never have.
"what's your name?"
"Shankar"
"how old are you?"
"twelve"
"What do you do, I mean, apart from sitting at the shop?"
"Arrey bhaiya, I study" this sentence had a tinge of pride, partly because he was thinking I was not expecting this answer. The italicized words are a very common mode of address, it means big brother.
"Oh good, which class are you in?" I replied.
"Seventh"
"but you look like a 5th grader. Which school?"
"Government middle school no.4"
"Do the teachers teach there??" Now this is a very common perception that government school teachers are no good, and hence my remark.
" Earlier there used to be a lot of dawdling, but now new teachers have come, they're foreigners, and teach well"
"Foreigners?? You must be joking, must be from some other city, maybe Delhi, not foreigners"
"No bhaiya, she's so fair, surely she's a foreigner." Here it is apparent the still prevailing dogma that fair skinned people are superior and come from far off lands. Something the British were very successful in drilling in all Indian minds.
"What is the school fees?"
"Nothing, we even get the textbooks for free, we only need to buy the notebooks"
"And do you get the mid-day meal?" This is a scheme introduced by the government to make poor people send their children to school, provide mid-day meals.
"No, that is only till class fifth. There is a boy in out school who failed deliberately, so that he keeps getting the food." Now this shows how 'effective' the government scheme has been and how the poor perceive it.
" Don't you do things like this. Study well and you'll get food automatically"
" One never gets food automatically, you have to work for it, no matter you study or not"
He said mockingly.
Now this shut me up completely and I changed the topic. But the comment has had a profound impression on me. Not that I did not know this, but it being put this way by a 12 year old, somehow shook me. I get food everyday, easily. I take it for granted. Now there is hard work involved in this, but I never see it as closely as this young boy does, and hence the down to earth comment.
Now as I said, the new city transit system introduced by the government is a source of many an excited conversation. This might seem very strange, but one needs to be an Indian to actually grasp the novelty of these spick-span buses running on time.
One of these buses just passed, and I asked.
" Have you taken a ride on the new bus"
" yeah, many times. It's fantabulous. Our Indore is developing too."
Hearing development the way he pronounced, I mockingly ask
"development, what does it mean??"
" it means, the coming of newer things to the city, the beautification of the city, people getting jobs. You know bhaiyya 4 people of my colony are employed by the service."
This is how he perceives development. I observe that the effects of these 'developments' are more direct and close to these people than anyone else.
" Do you know how to drive??"
" I've driven a luna many times" A luna is a small two wheeled scooter, without gears. The simplest of al motorized vehicles to drive.
"doesn't the police fine you? I mean you're 12, legally not allowed to drive"
" No the don't. After all they too know that I do not have much to give them, why would they waste their sweat on me then"
It is very commonly known and experienced that the local police force is corrupt, and take small bribes in return of overlooking small crimes, like underage driving. The thing here to observe is the boy's conscious acceptance of the fact that he is poor.
Again I was at a loss of what to say. This time he asked me a question.
" have you been to treasure island"
Now treasure island is a new mall in our city, and it is like the biggest news to most people since the invention of the telephone. Again, it'd be difficult to understand the fixation with a shopping mall if you're not Indian. It's like this apparently inaccessible 'foreign' item brought to their doorstep.
"yes I have"
"What a great place it is. The bijli ki sidhiyaan (the escalator) are fantastic. They take you up and bring you down, automatically Mangal City (another mall) is useless, they only have the up escalator. It's like as if they want you to stay there forever, it's one-way."
having cracked a joke, he laughs,one of the most beautiful laughs I've heard in a while.
All the time I was mesmerised by the shine in the boy's eyes and his easy guiltless attitude, something we can never have.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
The boy on the roadside shop
I observed the road today from a prespective we do not generally do. We generally see it, while driving. But looking at it sitting on an upturned oil can, in front of a roadside seat cover shop, was new to me.
There was this young boy, the 'chharra' of the shop jumping agilely to meet the 'fetch' orders of the proprietor. As the owner worked on fixing my scooter, i engaged the boy in conversation. The transcript is as follows. I'd have translaed it in english, but that would erode the effect. Hence i write it verbatim, in Hindi.
"Naam kya hai tera??"
"Sankar"
" Kitte saal ka hai?"
"barah"
"Kya kaam karta hai, matlab dukaan pe baithne ke alawa?"
"Arre bhaiya mai padhai karta hoon"
"Achha, kaunsi class me hai?"
"saatwi"
"Waah yaar, dikhta to tu paanchwi ka hai. School ka naam kya hai?"
" sarkari uchhatar matdhyamik vidyalaya, kramaank 4"
" teacher padhate hai ki nahi?"
" pehle to farziwaada tha, aajkal naye teacher aaye hai, vides se, to ab achha padhate hai"
"vides se?? arrey dilli se aaye honge, vides se kaise?"
"aree badi gori madam hai, pakka videsi"
" fees kitti lagti hai?"
" kuchh nahi, kitaben bhi milti hai. bas kapi khareedni padti hai."
" aur khana milta hai?"
" woh sirf paanchvi kaksha tak wallon ko milta hai. Meri class ka ek ladks toh jaan boojh ke fail hua, taaki khaana milta rahe"
" tu mat aisa karna, padh lega thik se to khana apne aap milega"
" koi nahi bahiya, khaana milta kabhi nahi hai, humesha kamaana padta hai, bhale padho, ya nahi"
Just then a city bus passed us, it still is a novelty to indore, and it's very common to ask weather you have taken a ride in it or not , and i asked him the same question.
"Yeh nayi city bus me baitha??"
"bahut baar, kya jhakaas bus banaayi hai bhaiya. apne indore ka bhi devlopement ho raha hai" (the spelling of development is knowingly incorrect to stress on the the pronounciation he used)
"devlopement, iska kya matlab hota hai?"
"matlab nayi cheezen aana, sheher sundar dikhne lagna, logon ki naukri lagna. mere mohalle ke chaar log chala rahe hai yeh bus"
" tujhe koi gaadi chalate aati hai?"
" luna chali hai bahut baar"
" police nahi pakadti? tu to 12 saal ka hi hai"
" koi nahi pakadti bhaaiya, usko maloom hai, pakad legi toh bhi mere paas toh kuchh hai hi nahi dene ke liye"
This time he asked me a question.
" Aapne trejur iland dekha??"
" haan maine dekha hai"
" kya mast jagah hai bhaiyya, ise bhi devlopement kehte hai. Wahan kya sidhiyaan hai, apne aap hi upar neeche hoti rehti hai. Yeh mangal city to bekaar hai, upar jaane ke liye bijli sidhi hai, neeche aane ke liye hai hi nahi. One way hai". having cracked a joke, he laughs,one of the most beautiful laughs i've heard in a while.
By this time, my scooter is fixed, so i take leave of this young boy, giving him a chocolate i happen to have in my pocket. Thinking what all this boy sankar told me in such a small time.
There was this young boy, the 'chharra' of the shop jumping agilely to meet the 'fetch' orders of the proprietor. As the owner worked on fixing my scooter, i engaged the boy in conversation. The transcript is as follows. I'd have translaed it in english, but that would erode the effect. Hence i write it verbatim, in Hindi.
"Naam kya hai tera??"
"Sankar"
" Kitte saal ka hai?"
"barah"
"Kya kaam karta hai, matlab dukaan pe baithne ke alawa?"
"Arre bhaiya mai padhai karta hoon"
"Achha, kaunsi class me hai?"
"saatwi"
"Waah yaar, dikhta to tu paanchwi ka hai. School ka naam kya hai?"
" sarkari uchhatar matdhyamik vidyalaya, kramaank 4"
" teacher padhate hai ki nahi?"
" pehle to farziwaada tha, aajkal naye teacher aaye hai, vides se, to ab achha padhate hai"
"vides se?? arrey dilli se aaye honge, vides se kaise?"
"aree badi gori madam hai, pakka videsi"
" fees kitti lagti hai?"
" kuchh nahi, kitaben bhi milti hai. bas kapi khareedni padti hai."
" aur khana milta hai?"
" woh sirf paanchvi kaksha tak wallon ko milta hai. Meri class ka ek ladks toh jaan boojh ke fail hua, taaki khaana milta rahe"
" tu mat aisa karna, padh lega thik se to khana apne aap milega"
" koi nahi bahiya, khaana milta kabhi nahi hai, humesha kamaana padta hai, bhale padho, ya nahi"
Just then a city bus passed us, it still is a novelty to indore, and it's very common to ask weather you have taken a ride in it or not , and i asked him the same question.
"Yeh nayi city bus me baitha??"
"bahut baar, kya jhakaas bus banaayi hai bhaiya. apne indore ka bhi devlopement ho raha hai" (the spelling of development is knowingly incorrect to stress on the the pronounciation he used)
"devlopement, iska kya matlab hota hai?"
"matlab nayi cheezen aana, sheher sundar dikhne lagna, logon ki naukri lagna. mere mohalle ke chaar log chala rahe hai yeh bus"
" tujhe koi gaadi chalate aati hai?"
" luna chali hai bahut baar"
" police nahi pakadti? tu to 12 saal ka hi hai"
" koi nahi pakadti bhaaiya, usko maloom hai, pakad legi toh bhi mere paas toh kuchh hai hi nahi dene ke liye"
This time he asked me a question.
" Aapne trejur iland dekha??"
" haan maine dekha hai"
" kya mast jagah hai bhaiyya, ise bhi devlopement kehte hai. Wahan kya sidhiyaan hai, apne aap hi upar neeche hoti rehti hai. Yeh mangal city to bekaar hai, upar jaane ke liye bijli sidhi hai, neeche aane ke liye hai hi nahi. One way hai". having cracked a joke, he laughs,one of the most beautiful laughs i've heard in a while.
By this time, my scooter is fixed, so i take leave of this young boy, giving him a chocolate i happen to have in my pocket. Thinking what all this boy sankar told me in such a small time.
On reservation and social justice
The definition of social justice needs to be rewritten, in the light of the recent events where the term has been used to favor reservations, rather than to oppose it.
We live in a socialist, secular state. But one is again forced to question the meaning as is being interpreted nowadays rights an equal opportunities are what one expects when we are told we're born in a free country, and now we're cheated, we feel robbed.
When the Union Jack covering our motherland was lifted, it revealed a gruesome, sordid mess. A poor divided country. Divided by language, by culture, by geographical boundaries and worst of all by religion. Out of this mess we forged our great nation. We used sticking plaster and glue to join the fragments. But some rifts were too wide to be bridged, so we built raised platforms to bring all to the same level, but the foundations of these platforms are weak, supported by makeshift scaffoldings.
The new reservation policy aims to rip out the sticking plaster, to cut the threads and to kick the scaffolding. The pain is going to be the same as ripping off the bandage from a raw wound.
The backward classes were and are still backward, thanks to the high headed snobs in the upper castes. They are socially and economically backward, but if I were to say that they are mentally backward, a self respecting 'backward' boy would gladly beat me senseless ,and I deserve it too, saying what I just said. Because this means that we consider them to be lesser humans, a step down in the evolution ladder.
Agreeably they have not had the same opportunities as we did, but this does not mean taking away our opportunities, and doling them out for free. At the thresholds of our career and our education, we are equal, armed only with our confidence and intelligence.
The government decision is irksome and sad. It stands to divide a society that has just come together. When we had started growing up, shedding the dogmas of the last century, the government is redrawing the boundaries.
I never considered asking a classmate his caste, but now I just might. The consequences of this decision are grave and long lasting.
We live in a socialist, secular state. But one is again forced to question the meaning as is being interpreted nowadays rights an equal opportunities are what one expects when we are told we're born in a free country, and now we're cheated, we feel robbed.
When the Union Jack covering our motherland was lifted, it revealed a gruesome, sordid mess. A poor divided country. Divided by language, by culture, by geographical boundaries and worst of all by religion. Out of this mess we forged our great nation. We used sticking plaster and glue to join the fragments. But some rifts were too wide to be bridged, so we built raised platforms to bring all to the same level, but the foundations of these platforms are weak, supported by makeshift scaffoldings.
The new reservation policy aims to rip out the sticking plaster, to cut the threads and to kick the scaffolding. The pain is going to be the same as ripping off the bandage from a raw wound.
The backward classes were and are still backward, thanks to the high headed snobs in the upper castes. They are socially and economically backward, but if I were to say that they are mentally backward, a self respecting 'backward' boy would gladly beat me senseless ,and I deserve it too, saying what I just said. Because this means that we consider them to be lesser humans, a step down in the evolution ladder.
Agreeably they have not had the same opportunities as we did, but this does not mean taking away our opportunities, and doling them out for free. At the thresholds of our career and our education, we are equal, armed only with our confidence and intelligence.
The government decision is irksome and sad. It stands to divide a society that has just come together. When we had started growing up, shedding the dogmas of the last century, the government is redrawing the boundaries.
I never considered asking a classmate his caste, but now I just might. The consequences of this decision are grave and long lasting.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
aaa.. um.. er.. hhhi
This is a poem i wrote for the beuatiful girl in the next cubicle, with whom i'm unable to talk to.
I wait
trying to catch a glimpse
of your oceanic eyes
a shadow of your smile
your angelic face
I walk in desolation
a traveller
in a desert
praying for an oasis,
and there you are, the mirage
Shrouded in a veil of mystery
the deary morning frost
oh! how i wish
for the ice to be broken
for the Peraly Gates to open
I try desperately
to fing my strangled voice
the words, by your aura, overshadowed
die prematurely in the throat
and all one hears is a splutter
give up, i will not
with the passing days i gather strength
to cease being the dumb guy in the next cubicle
and be able to say 'Hi'
I wait
trying to catch a glimpse
of your oceanic eyes
a shadow of your smile
your angelic face
I walk in desolation
a traveller
in a desert
praying for an oasis,
and there you are, the mirage
Shrouded in a veil of mystery
the deary morning frost
oh! how i wish
for the ice to be broken
for the Peraly Gates to open
I try desperately
to fing my strangled voice
the words, by your aura, overshadowed
die prematurely in the throat
and all one hears is a splutter
give up, i will not
with the passing days i gather strength
to cease being the dumb guy in the next cubicle
and be able to say 'Hi'
Am I mad?
The Strange pleasure of doing things you hate
Contradictory as I might sound, the feeling I mentioned is one that frequently visits me. How do I place this seemingly illogical behavior in my otherwise logical mind? Is it that I define pleasure erroneously or that I do not really hate what I pretend to hate? I am not masochist, or am I ?
It is recently that I have realized that the pleasure in doing things that are forbidden is great. Now the things I hate or I think I hate are things I've been taught to hate and hence are pleasurable, because they are forbidden. But if there is this pleasure, why do I think I hate them?
I'd take this example. I know a girl whom I hate like anything. She's a big liar and such a lousy actress that it makes you want to puke. She's average looking, leaning towards beautiful. I've told her numerous times that I hate the trite she talks about and she's fooling nobody by the lies she tells. Even after all this, I meet her frequently. Now why do I do that? I do not have much time to waste on hearing fibs nor am I addicted to coffee shops. Not one aspect of her is intriguing, but still I talk to her. Why? Is it just out of defiance, that since I'm not promoted to associate with girls, or out of asserting to myself that I can take more than I think I can take.
The same is with drinking. In this case I know a very big reason is the defiance factor, but that is not all. I get nothing out of drinking and I actually hole my pocket, then why do I do it?
I know I want to study, and that I do not have a lot of time to waste, still I will spend hours watching nothing on TV, and I hate channel surfing.
Putting all of what I mentioned above, am I mad??
Contradictory as I might sound, the feeling I mentioned is one that frequently visits me. How do I place this seemingly illogical behavior in my otherwise logical mind? Is it that I define pleasure erroneously or that I do not really hate what I pretend to hate? I am not masochist, or am I ?
It is recently that I have realized that the pleasure in doing things that are forbidden is great. Now the things I hate or I think I hate are things I've been taught to hate and hence are pleasurable, because they are forbidden. But if there is this pleasure, why do I think I hate them?
I'd take this example. I know a girl whom I hate like anything. She's a big liar and such a lousy actress that it makes you want to puke. She's average looking, leaning towards beautiful. I've told her numerous times that I hate the trite she talks about and she's fooling nobody by the lies she tells. Even after all this, I meet her frequently. Now why do I do that? I do not have much time to waste on hearing fibs nor am I addicted to coffee shops. Not one aspect of her is intriguing, but still I talk to her. Why? Is it just out of defiance, that since I'm not promoted to associate with girls, or out of asserting to myself that I can take more than I think I can take.
The same is with drinking. In this case I know a very big reason is the defiance factor, but that is not all. I get nothing out of drinking and I actually hole my pocket, then why do I do it?
I know I want to study, and that I do not have a lot of time to waste, still I will spend hours watching nothing on TV, and I hate channel surfing.
Putting all of what I mentioned above, am I mad??
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Being Cyrus- review
Being Cyrus
Here comes a starkly different movie from the otherwise formula stuck Bollywood. An English movie, Being Cyrus takes you into the life of Cyrus( Saif Ali Khan), an orphan working apparently as an apprentice to sculptor Nasruddien Shah. Nasureddien Shah plays a delirious fallen artist now living as a recluse with his frustrated wife Dimple Kapadia, who is instantly attracted to Cyrus. Boman Irani and Simon Singh make up the rest of the Sethna family. The story takes unexpected turns at regular intervals and leaves you confused and ignorant about the actual motives of the characters until the very end when the whole drama culminates to a fantastic end.
The script is beautifully written and the generally Hindi speaking actors have taken to English as easily as one breathes. There is an intriguing novelty in the direction; there a numerous scenes whose relevance remains in muddled questions till the end. Snatches of philosophical dialogues, strange dreams, seemingly mad characters, flashbacks, unaccounted for scenes all add up to form an impeccable story.
But the movie demands patience from the audience, till the interval it takes conscious effort to make you remain seated, and even after the interval it does not gather much speed; the unexpected end and impeccable acting partly make up for it. Humour is inherently missing, and some scenes are sadistically irritating.
The movie, it seems, was a greater pleasure for the director in making it, rather than for the audience seeing it. Still I’d recommend it to all the hogs of novelty and students of movie making. Viewers who ask for entertainment alone may do well to stay away.
Ice Age2- review
ICE AGE 2
The scorching summer has made the ice melt and with delightful results too. The much awaited sequesl delivers all that was expected of it.
It has wit and humor, love and tenderness, tiffs and friendships. Everything in just the right proportion to make a beautiful movie.
The ice is melting and life thrives in all it's glory. But this picnic is not forever and the animals must march to a far off destination, in the face on an impending flood. With beautiful messages like 'conquer your fears before they conquer you' and 'save the world before it's too late' ;the narrative unrolls with a fine needlework of friendship, cooperation and love. It stirs in you the same emotions as your moral science class did years ago, and invokes again the innocence you seem to have lost.
Starring Manny the mammoth, Slater the tiger , Sid the sloth and the obsessive compulsive squirrel, this movie is for the child inside you and of course for the children. A must see for everyone.
The scorching summer has made the ice melt and with delightful results too. The much awaited sequesl delivers all that was expected of it.
It has wit and humor, love and tenderness, tiffs and friendships. Everything in just the right proportion to make a beautiful movie.
The ice is melting and life thrives in all it's glory. But this picnic is not forever and the animals must march to a far off destination, in the face on an impending flood. With beautiful messages like 'conquer your fears before they conquer you' and 'save the world before it's too late' ;the narrative unrolls with a fine needlework of friendship, cooperation and love. It stirs in you the same emotions as your moral science class did years ago, and invokes again the innocence you seem to have lost.
Starring Manny the mammoth, Slater the tiger , Sid the sloth and the obsessive compulsive squirrel, this movie is for the child inside you and of course for the children. A must see for everyone.
V for vendetta- review
V for Vendetta
A futuristic thriller, not on a far off planet but set on earth herself, this movie comes with subtle questions, an entirely new premise and a feeling of rebellion.
From the house of Wachowskis, who gave us the matrix triology, V for Vendetta transports you to a civil war torn USA and a totalitarian UK. The people fear the government. Propaganda and injustice is ramprant. The story speaks of V, a masked rebel, a product of government sponsored inhuman experiments, fighting a lone battle against the system. He's a phantom, who moves noiselessly ,unseen, unknow, commiting fantastic acts of rebellion.
Blowing up buildings, and killing people, the man behind the mask is not a mindless terrorist but an intellectual, who understands and appreciates the importance of freedom. Evy, a reporter finds her life entangled with V's only to have it changed, forever.
Some parts of the movie are overdramatized, an a quick eye can spot continuity flaws, but in all the movie does justice to the storyline.
Based on a novel by Alan Moore and directed by James McTeigue, the movie has a lot to offer.
A futuristic thriller, not on a far off planet but set on earth herself, this movie comes with subtle questions, an entirely new premise and a feeling of rebellion.
From the house of Wachowskis, who gave us the matrix triology, V for Vendetta transports you to a civil war torn USA and a totalitarian UK. The people fear the government. Propaganda and injustice is ramprant. The story speaks of V, a masked rebel, a product of government sponsored inhuman experiments, fighting a lone battle against the system. He's a phantom, who moves noiselessly ,unseen, unknow, commiting fantastic acts of rebellion.
Blowing up buildings, and killing people, the man behind the mask is not a mindless terrorist but an intellectual, who understands and appreciates the importance of freedom. Evy, a reporter finds her life entangled with V's only to have it changed, forever.
Some parts of the movie are overdramatized, an a quick eye can spot continuity flaws, but in all the movie does justice to the storyline.
Based on a novel by Alan Moore and directed by James McTeigue, the movie has a lot to offer.
The Pink Panther- review
The Pink Panther
A comedy that defies tradition, one that does not evoke laughter by worn out one liners, rather from the whole setting of the movie. It is the Pink Panther.
A soccer coach is murdered in front of a stadium full of people and a priceless diamond is missing. Who else but the best( or worst?) in the French detective force, Inspector Jacques Clouseau is called upon to solve the mystery. And then ensues the most hilarious fracas; a sequence of stumblings, falls, punches, jabs, bites and English spoken in French.
Clouseau is hot on the trail, assisted by his faithful sidekick and stalked by his lovelorn secretary, only to seem confused as ever but ends up solving the mystery with panache.
The director sure has something against the tour de France. THe movie is a laugh tonic and a must see for everyone who hates slapstick comedy and has a liking for good jokes.
A comedy that defies tradition, one that does not evoke laughter by worn out one liners, rather from the whole setting of the movie. It is the Pink Panther.
A soccer coach is murdered in front of a stadium full of people and a priceless diamond is missing. Who else but the best( or worst?) in the French detective force, Inspector Jacques Clouseau is called upon to solve the mystery. And then ensues the most hilarious fracas; a sequence of stumblings, falls, punches, jabs, bites and English spoken in French.
Clouseau is hot on the trail, assisted by his faithful sidekick and stalked by his lovelorn secretary, only to seem confused as ever but ends up solving the mystery with panache.
The director sure has something against the tour de France. THe movie is a laugh tonic and a must see for everyone who hates slapstick comedy and has a liking for good jokes.
The Da Vinci Code- review
The Da Vinci Code
Amidst much controversy, protests and bans, the movie finally hits the box office.Movie lovers waited anxiously, listening irritatedly to the deliberations of the court, hoping they get to see the movie soon, after the movie the same cinemagoer finds himself stuck with one question, was it worth all of that??
After 40 million readers, the movie will find atleast 10 million viewers, but you won't go to the theatre for the movie, you will go there to see what Tom hanks might have to offer and what is the hulaboo all about.
The movie goes on at a reasonably fast speed, but there is a touch of lethargy .It does not give you the anticipatory thrills, as everyone expects from a thriller. The codes are broken, riddles deciphered, but with nothing more than a cursory glance on the words. The dialogues and the emotions seem constricted. Some trady direction brings you to a state of utter confusion at the middle of the movie, and if you have'nt read the book, god save you. MOst of the mystries are solved by the end, there is even an intresting conversation that shows the charm of hanks, but it's not enough to vindicate the movie makers.
See it if you're curious, about how one can actually spoil a book properly.
Amidst much controversy, protests and bans, the movie finally hits the box office.Movie lovers waited anxiously, listening irritatedly to the deliberations of the court, hoping they get to see the movie soon, after the movie the same cinemagoer finds himself stuck with one question, was it worth all of that??
After 40 million readers, the movie will find atleast 10 million viewers, but you won't go to the theatre for the movie, you will go there to see what Tom hanks might have to offer and what is the hulaboo all about.
The movie goes on at a reasonably fast speed, but there is a touch of lethargy .It does not give you the anticipatory thrills, as everyone expects from a thriller. The codes are broken, riddles deciphered, but with nothing more than a cursory glance on the words. The dialogues and the emotions seem constricted. Some trady direction brings you to a state of utter confusion at the middle of the movie, and if you have'nt read the book, god save you. MOst of the mystries are solved by the end, there is even an intresting conversation that shows the charm of hanks, but it's not enough to vindicate the movie makers.
See it if you're curious, about how one can actually spoil a book properly.
MI-3- review
Mission Impossible 3
Starting unmistakably with Limp Bizkit's 'Take a look around' (official soundtrack for the movie), it has all ingredients of it's predecessors: bombs, stunts guns and babes, save a good storyline.
The movie starts off jarringly, blowing buildings and vehicles to smitherness, a trend that would be the mainstay of the movie.
Eathen Hunt (cruise) faces another bunch of impossible missions, trying to tackle his biggest enemy yet, Owen Devian; an arms dealer (apparently) with unimaginable reach in the corridors of power and religion. He kills people with malicious joy.
With the death of a fellow agent, the matter becomes personal, and cruise is moving mountains, acting at his whim, to catch this guy. Only to be faced by treachery right at his roots.
There are guns, and grenades and bombs. Bullets always missing the heroes and fatal to the villians. Invisible communication devices, unimaginably small gadgets achieving fantastic acts, face masks and voice impersonators, they're all there.
The movie makes your palms sweaty, takes you to uncomfortable silences and deafening roars, there are touches of emotion, a smile here, a tear there.
But the movie falls short of expectations. It's more of Q's opera( Bond's gadget man) than bravado of the agents. The centrestone of the story is shrouded into a mist that never lifts, so the cause of the whole conflagration is veiled.
See it just becasue you know you want to, you'll return with the feeling of seeing a movie, whose memories fade as sandcastles in the rising tide.
Starting unmistakably with Limp Bizkit's 'Take a look around' (official soundtrack for the movie), it has all ingredients of it's predecessors: bombs, stunts guns and babes, save a good storyline.
The movie starts off jarringly, blowing buildings and vehicles to smitherness, a trend that would be the mainstay of the movie.
Eathen Hunt (cruise) faces another bunch of impossible missions, trying to tackle his biggest enemy yet, Owen Devian; an arms dealer (apparently) with unimaginable reach in the corridors of power and religion. He kills people with malicious joy.
With the death of a fellow agent, the matter becomes personal, and cruise is moving mountains, acting at his whim, to catch this guy. Only to be faced by treachery right at his roots.
There are guns, and grenades and bombs. Bullets always missing the heroes and fatal to the villians. Invisible communication devices, unimaginably small gadgets achieving fantastic acts, face masks and voice impersonators, they're all there.
The movie makes your palms sweaty, takes you to uncomfortable silences and deafening roars, there are touches of emotion, a smile here, a tear there.
But the movie falls short of expectations. It's more of Q's opera( Bond's gadget man) than bravado of the agents. The centrestone of the story is shrouded into a mist that never lifts, so the cause of the whole conflagration is veiled.
See it just becasue you know you want to, you'll return with the feeling of seeing a movie, whose memories fade as sandcastles in the rising tide.
Corporate-review
CORPORATE
people in pinstripe suits with drinks perpetually in their hands, raoming around with their laptops, doing nothing but holding meetings. That's what you come to think of the corporate top brass once you see this movie. Madhur Bhandarkar has tried to create and echo of Page3 but has failed miserably. The corruption is ramparnt, so is private profit motive; There are unfaithful husbands, motel sluts, pimps and fixers, but somehow the scene does'nt ring true. The humor is coarse, and presentation shoddy.
KK Menon compensates for the horrible show put up by Bipasha basu, but not completely. Corporate secrets are traded, and strangely enough these people have not heard of password protection of data. reality bends for the story's sake rather than the other way round.
There are some learnings from the movie. The director has tried to come up with the reality, but in a very unreal way.
The final moral of the story is: all aerated drinks invariably have pesticides, so don't drink 'em.
PS I did not talk of the songs on purpose.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Omkara- Review
OMKARA
Here is the movie that delivers everything a cinemagoer expects. Starting at breakneck speed, it introduces all it's charachters in a breath. Omakra(Ajay Devgan) , the faithful muscle-man of politician Nasruddin Shah, is flanked by trusty aides Langda Tyagi( Saif Ali Khan) and Keshu Firangi ( Vivek Oberoi). The flurry in the begenning gives way to a relatively slower narrartion, a platform for the actors is created and every charachter delivers. Right from the green eyed monster- tyagi, to beginner muscle-man Keshu. Love is blind, but jealousy in love is maliciuosly blind, and this is what pulls a gifted warlord Omkara, to his doom.
The Indian village has come alive, not only physically, but also in terms of the mentalities of it's inhabitants. There are folk songs and there are item-numbers. The director has doubled up as music director, to produce a delicate interlacing of songs with the setting.
The story unravels to produce expected surprises, with prodigious acting inputs from, Konkana Sen Sharma and Kareena Kapoor.
Vivek Bharadwaj has made Shakespere's Othello his own, and set it beautifully in an Indian backdrop. A must watch for all, yes even you Mr.Shakespere. A word of caution though, explicit language content, avoid taking your younger siblings to the theatre.
Here is the movie that delivers everything a cinemagoer expects. Starting at breakneck speed, it introduces all it's charachters in a breath. Omakra(Ajay Devgan) , the faithful muscle-man of politician Nasruddin Shah, is flanked by trusty aides Langda Tyagi( Saif Ali Khan) and Keshu Firangi ( Vivek Oberoi). The flurry in the begenning gives way to a relatively slower narrartion, a platform for the actors is created and every charachter delivers. Right from the green eyed monster- tyagi, to beginner muscle-man Keshu. Love is blind, but jealousy in love is maliciuosly blind, and this is what pulls a gifted warlord Omkara, to his doom.
The Indian village has come alive, not only physically, but also in terms of the mentalities of it's inhabitants. There are folk songs and there are item-numbers. The director has doubled up as music director, to produce a delicate interlacing of songs with the setting.
The story unravels to produce expected surprises, with prodigious acting inputs from, Konkana Sen Sharma and Kareena Kapoor.
Vivek Bharadwaj has made Shakespere's Othello his own, and set it beautifully in an Indian backdrop. A must watch for all, yes even you Mr.Shakespere. A word of caution though, explicit language content, avoid taking your younger siblings to the theatre.
Review- anthony kaun hai
Anthony Kaun hai?
Now here is Arshad Warsi, trying again to kick start his career, to get himself into mainstream cinema. There is the same illusion that he might succeed, as it was after really good roles in Munnabhai MBBS , Sehar, Wasia Bhi Hota Hai part2, but will he? only time will tell.
Arshad's exceptional acting ability dares to carry the movie alone , inspite of the presence of Sanjay Dutt, and he partially succeeds. The story drags on slowly, but there is one good thing, there actually is something in the movie that might be called a story. Something inherently missing from most of the recent movies. Comic scenes arise out of genuine situations, rather than someone playing the joker with a slapstick. No pants are dropped and no couples land of the bed, and still the movie grabs your interest.
The delectable Minisha lamba, is smiling all over the screen, she could have done with some acting lessons, but for a beginner, she's good.
The movie in all registers as better than the crowd, but not one of the best. Better editing could have worked wonders for the movie. But still watch it for clean humor, for the genius in Arshad and for the intimidatingly funny Sanjay Dutt.
PS. Wait a minute, i heard someone call it a thriller, well it's as much thrill as lying on the bed, trying to sleep.
Now here is Arshad Warsi, trying again to kick start his career, to get himself into mainstream cinema. There is the same illusion that he might succeed, as it was after really good roles in Munnabhai MBBS , Sehar, Wasia Bhi Hota Hai part2, but will he? only time will tell.
Arshad's exceptional acting ability dares to carry the movie alone , inspite of the presence of Sanjay Dutt, and he partially succeeds. The story drags on slowly, but there is one good thing, there actually is something in the movie that might be called a story. Something inherently missing from most of the recent movies. Comic scenes arise out of genuine situations, rather than someone playing the joker with a slapstick. No pants are dropped and no couples land of the bed, and still the movie grabs your interest.
The delectable Minisha lamba, is smiling all over the screen, she could have done with some acting lessons, but for a beginner, she's good.
The movie in all registers as better than the crowd, but not one of the best. Better editing could have worked wonders for the movie. But still watch it for clean humor, for the genius in Arshad and for the intimidatingly funny Sanjay Dutt.
PS. Wait a minute, i heard someone call it a thriller, well it's as much thrill as lying on the bed, trying to sleep.
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