The Smallest Mouth...

Quite recently, I had the pleasure of viewing one of the most engaging cinematic experiences in recent memory. ‘The Dark Knight’, for me, is an achievement of pure artistic excellence, the kind American cinema has rarely seen. Now I know that we live in an age where the urban Indian youth thinks that the ‘in’ thing to say is ‘I hate running-around-trees stuff, and prefer Hollywood flicks’. Fair enough, since I would be the first to admit (with a certain sense of lost sorrow) that 90% of Indian cinema is bullshit. But I also firmly believe that the same percentage of American cinema is also bullshit. I agree that a lot of them seem fun when viewed on the big screen, but then that really is the point of a cinema hall anyway. The truth is that most of what Hollywood churns out has no cinematic value, which is what makes ‘The Dark Knight’ special. It has everything that goes into a commercial, big-budget, studio-financed Hollywood movie - great visuals, jaw-dropping action sequences, sound editing, a pacy yet haunting background score, and of course, some brilliant performances. (Heath Ledger as The Joker is brilliant, and far more menacing than Jack Nicholson, who portrayed the same character in Tim Burton’s Batman. But to know what acting truly is, one has to watch Gary Oldman reprise his role as Lt. Jim Gordon.) I know now that 99% of the people who watched the movie liked it because of the reasons I mentioned above. Trust Me to be different, because I liked it for different reasons. In fact, if what I said earlier was all that there was to ‘The Dark Knight’, I know that I would have hated it…

The movie has some of the best onscreen dialogue ever. And the most brilliant lines were delivered in such an off-hand and matter-of-fact manner, that their meaning was lost on many. Like ‘The only morality in a cruel world is chance’, or simply ‘Everything burns’. And then, my personal favourite, ‘You know the thing about chaos. It’s fair.’ These are some of the cold, hard, truths of life. Unavoidable, unstoppable, inescapable, inevitable. Yet, this movie is filled with not just lines that tell us these cold truths, but also ones that give us strength and hope. Strength to understand these truths, and Hope that maybe, one day, we can combat them. And that is where what I really like about ‘The Dark Knight’ really begins to come to the fore…

The release of ‘The Dark Knight’ coincided with one of the most important phases in the history of Indian politics. If I had to describe it in the least number of words possible, I’d say - Nuclear Deal, Trust Vote, Cash-for-Votes and, apparently, ‘Singh is King’. The whole saga made me stop and seriously think about where my country and my people are heading. I have closely followed Indian politics for a few years now. In terms of ideology, my mind has leant towards the Congress on several occasions mainly because of the two terms frequently used in context with them - ‘Aam Aadmi’ and ‘Secularism’. At the same time, BJP’s ‘Hindutva’ stance has always pricked me like a thorn. Yet, I’ve been largely neutral towards these two giants of the Indian political scene, simply because in this day and age, you really can trust no one. Like most people, I too am worried about corruption eating away at our democracy, the way wood-borers hollow out our costly, red sandalwood furniture from the inside. Yet, in the years that I’ve actually followed and understood Indian politics, the Central Government has been headed, in succession, by two of the most trustworthy Indian politicians – Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Manmohan Singh. Vajpayee is a stalwart in the true sense of the word, and arguably the tallest leader in the country today. Manmohan Singh, amidst accusations of being remote-controlled, has always been a reluctant politician, more an economic reformer than anything else. And the one thing common between the two of them is their squeaky clean image. People may have believed that the decisions that mattered were being taken not at 7 Racecourse Road, but at 10 Janpath. But they forget that the nuclear deal has largely been Manmohan Singh’s brainchild. And time and again, Singh has put his foot down regarding the nature of his Cabinet, like demanding Shibu Soren’s resignation when he was named a suspect in a murder case. Furthermore, Manmohan Singh had refused to induct him into the Cabinet even when he was acquitted.

But I can’t help feeling now that things have truly changed. Manmohan Singh may have won the ‘Trust Vote’, but has lost the trust of a majority of his countrymen, because the very same Shibu Soren walked out from the PM’s office recently, claiming to have been assured of a Central Ministry, in exchange for his party’s votes in the trust vote. ‘Horse-trading’, it was called. And then there was the Cash-for-Votes drama in the Parliament of the ‘largest democracy in the world’. The scenes which were enacted on the floor of the House (and then splashed across the news channels much like the publicity campaign for Om Shanti Om) shocked me, intrigued me, and then saddened me. And I was barely beginning to come to terms with just how bad things are for us right now, when there were the blasts in Bangalore, and then Ahmedabad. As soon as I heard about the blasts in the Bangalore, my instant thought was ‘This has definitely been stage-managed to draw people’s attention away from the political situation in the country.’ My gut feeling grew stronger when I came to know the details of the blast. Low intensity blasts, meant to scare and not kill. I began to find my theory more convincing when there were similar blasts in Ahmedabad. The fact that Karnataka and Gujarat are both BJP-ruled states made me feel even more so. Two birds with one stone. “You say we are soft on terrorism? Look what is happening in states governed by you!” I cannot even begin to explain the grief I feel when I think of the people who were killed in these blasts.

It was with this feeling, that the state of affairs in our country is at a new low, that I walked into the cinema hall to watch ‘The Dark Knight’ a second time. I believe that the second viewing of a movie is generally the most important. This is because, while watching a movie for the first time, one does not really know details about how the movie is going to pan out. So one can’t appreciate the little things in the screenplay, which actually make sense only in retrospect, after one understands their place in the ‘big picture’. And from the third viewing onwards, a sense of fatigue can begin to set in, because now, one knows most of what is required to be known about the movie anyway. ‘The Dark Knight’ is one of those rare movies that seem even more special the second time round. The nuances of each performance become clearer. The depth in each spoken line feels exponentially deeper. And for those who don’t really care about lines and performances, the ‘jaw-dropping’ (as I described earlier) action sequences make your jaw drop even further. Most importantly, it made me feel even more, that there still is hope. I feel like going out there, because I know I can make a difference. And what I really want is for every single Indian, every single human being, to feel the same way. Because collectively, we can win. When, the soon-to-be-‘Two-Face’, Harvey Dent (played, again, brilliantly by Aaron Eckhart) said, “The night is darkest before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming”, I got a chill up my spine. When Lucius Fox’s (Morgan Freeman is great as ever) eyes showed that he trusted Batman, I knew that it was that kind of trust that one would need to engender, if one truly wanted people to believe in them. And then of course, when Alfred (Michael Caine is, yawn, great) tells Batman “But I did bloody tell you…”, I know that whatever has to be done, should be done with a smile. So, when I walked out from the cinema hall, awe-struck for the second time, I felt a little stronger, a little more hopeful, and a lot more aware of what I want to do. So then I’d just have to end by quoting who else but the Dark Knight, when I say ‘I’m whatever Gotham needs me to be…’

The Muffin's......

The day began at exactly 7:01 AM, when I woke up to shut the first alarm. Obviously, I went back to sleep, my last thought being that the alarm would ring again at exactly 7:14 AM. (My alarm is set to ring every 13 minutes). Needless to say, I was up again at 7:14, only to tell myself that I'll actually be waking up at 7:27. Now I know it isn't exactly quantum physics, but I've always been secretly proud of myself for being able to calculate so quickly even in the state of deepest sleep. The small things in life really do make me happy. Well anyway, after adding 13 five times over, I finally woke up at 8:06. I'd be marked 'late' in office if I reached after 8:40. And I knew that if I had to reach office at 8:40, then I just had to leave home at 8:40. No, that isn't a typo. The clock in office is 5 minutes slow, my watch is 5 minutes fast, and office is 10 minutes away. So there.

Now, I don't have breakfast before leaving, I shave only on Mondays, and in an extremely rare show of responsibility, I had ironed my shirt the previous night, by mistake. (I was thinking about, ahem, someone, and absent-mindedly ended up ironing my shirt). Thank God for small miracles, since the time saved on ironing my shirt meant that I was able to get ready in time. I was feeling quite happy with myself, right until I reached the door to put on my shoes. For a moment I thought that I had brought home the wrong pair the previous day. My shoes were black, but these were brown! It took me a full second to realize that that was impossible, since I don't take off my shoes in office. I spared a moment to admire the perfect layer of dried mud on my shoes, before I began cleaning them. It took me 90 precious seconds to clean them up. 90 out of the 600 that it took me to reach office. That's 15% of the total time required. Which meant that I had to ride 15% faster if I had to make it on time. Of course, even in that haste, I still had enough time to yet again feel proud of myself for the neat calculation. But that was for only about 3 seconds because, as I mounted my mode of transport, I thought of what my only friend in the world, my trusty motorcycle, would have to suffer, just because I was irresponsible. The traffic, the bumpy-at-some-places and slippery-at-others route to my office, and most of all, my weight. All of it at 60 kph. Damn. But then, what are friends for? I cranked it up a notch on the road, the wind making the seven-and-a-half hair on my head fly like nobody's business. It was only on the last stretch of the route to office that I realized that if I had to choose between being 2 minutes late to office, and dying a gruesome death on the road, I would have actually chosen the former.

I hurried up to my office, and as I beeped my access card and looked at the digital clock at reception, I heaved a sigh of relief. 8:40. Alls well that ends well. Then reality began to sink in. It wasn't the end, but only the beginning of a day in office. As I walked to my seat, I spied a quick glance at the reason that I was able to make it to office on time. That precious split-second would be enough to last me another 24 hours. Or so I told myself.

As I settled into my seat, I thought about what I had to do the remainder of the day. Now to be honest, I don't really think I am good at my job. But then that is exactly what makes it a challenge. It has something to do with mortgage loans, which is a far cry from my days as an engineering student. But then, if I wasn't inventing an alternative to the internal combustion engine, then I wasn't much use as a mechanical engineer anyway. (Incidentally, I had come up with a conceptual alternative to the IC engine. More on that some other day.) I do find quite amusing, the idea of a mechanical engineering graduate, working in the mortgage banking sector, intending to be a filmmaker some day. And after I think of this, I spend a few quiet moments feeling sorry for my super-parents, who unfortunately have had to suffer me and my whims & fancies. Now that's what I call unfair.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of ginger-flavoured tea, title commitments, appraisals, credit reports and some other mortgage-related stuff. As I left office, I realized that I had forgotten to have breakfast, and since I don't have lunch anyway, it meant that all I'd had all day was, well, tea and water. (Yes, I'm one of those who takes the term 'chai-pani' a bit too seriously...)

While riding back, I thought of the packet of Knorr soup, the eggs, and the Capsico Red Pepper Sauce at home. Yum. I spent a lazy evening, thinking and watching a bit of TV, until midnight, when I decided that it was time for me to don my chef's hat. And right enough, eating the tasty soup that I whipped up, and watching the France-Italy do-or-die Euro 2008 match that night was a nice experience. Well, France losing did prove to be a bit of a spoiler, but what the hell. After the World Cup final loss, I don't think a French defeat can hurt me that much anymore. As I finally switched off the TV, I suddenly felt like a bike ride. There was a slight drizzle that night. The idea of a bike ride, in the rain, with music in my ears appeals to me like very few other things do.

As I set off on my bike, I started thinking of all the things that I love to do, and all the people I love. The chill in the night and the warmth in my heart combined to bring me to state of much-needed equilibrium, if only for a few minutes. 25 immensely enjoyable minutes later, I was back home, finally in the mood to end my day. It was 2:30 AM. 4 hours and 31 minutes for the alarm to ring for the first time, again. I settled into bed and said a silent prayer for the people I love, and the people I don't know.

So, I have just described one of the most pointless days in the history of mankind. Life's a piece of delicious black forest pastry, eh?

The Reaction

It was a cold December night. Jay looked at his watch. All he could see was a blurry image of the hour hand somewhere between 9 and 10. He hadn’t realized that his inebriated brain, in collusion with his feet, had brought him back to the Plant. His thoughts floated back to what he was so desperately trying to forget. The phone call from Pallavi. He still couldn’t believe what she had said to him today. How could she marry someone else? How could she forget all those moments that they had spent together? And she had ended it on the phone! Jay usually never drank, and he did not know why he had done so today. He had heard that drinking numbs any mental pain. He knew now that it was all hogwash. He, in fact, felt worse.

The imposing structure in front of him beckoned him inside. He knew that he would get some peace inside the Plant, since the last workers would have left for the day.

His footsteps echoed through the night with quite the same emptiness that he felt inside him. Once upon a time the Plant used to be Jay’s favourite place in the world. His mind went back to his days as a young chemistry student, when he first met Pallavi. As he sat down on the ground, it suddenly struck him that his love for chemistry and his love for Pallavi had blossomed at about the same time. In fact, he had confessed his feelings for Pallavi around the same time as he had helped his company come up with a cost-effective way of making 1-napthyl-N-methylcarbamate or carbaryl, better known as the pesticide Sevin. The brilliance of it still never ceased to amaze him. Sevin was made by reacting methyl isocyanate or MIC with 1-naphtol. MIC used to be imported from USA until five years back. That was when Jay came into the picture. Jay had suggested reacting methyl amine with phosgene to form MIC. This had helped reduce the cost involved in making Sevin. It did however increase the risks involved, since they now had to deal with two deadly gases – MIC and phosgene. Phosgene was even used as a chemical warfare agent. Jay soon noticed that the management was not spending enough on ensuring the complete safety of the plant workers. Of course, he reasoned that they really couldn’t be blamed. The demand for pesticide had fallen, and the company was producing more MIC than was actually being sold. They had been operating at a loss for quite a while now. Jay did not particularly fancy the idea of abandoning a sinking ship, but he had grown tired of working non-stop, giving up precious time with Pallavi, for a loss-making organization which did not even care about its employees’ welfare. He had already received offers from companies abroad, and was just waiting to get married to Pallavi so that he could take her with him. Of course, that was all before the phone call today. He couldn’t believe that Pallavi hadn’t waited for him. And if she was really getting frustrated with his working hours, then why hadn’t she at least spoken to him about it? Just thinking about all of this filled him with intense pain, the kind he had never known before. He knew that he could not continue to live with this kind of pain. He knew that all he wanted right now was relief from the pain. All he wanted was to die.

He had a long look at the layout of the plant around him. He realized that he was now almost directly over Tank 610, which would be containing about 40 metric tones of liquefied MIC. He knew that MIC has a Threshold Limit Value / Time Weighted Average of 0.02 ppm or 20 parts per billion. Which means that the average concentration of MIC under which most people can work consistently for eight hours, day in, day out, with no harmful effects, is 20 parts per billion. Individuals would begin to experience severe irritation of the nose and throat at exposures to MIC above 21 parts per billion. Phosgene has a TLV/TWA of 100 parts per billion. Thus, in a way, MIC is deadlier than phosgene. Prolonged exposure to MIC would cause coughing, dyspnea, chest pain, eyelid edema and unconsciousness. 24 to 72 hours following exposure would see pulmonary edema, cardiac arrest and finally, death. Jay started thinking about what 40 metric tones of MIC would do to a person.

Considering how drunk he was, Jay suddenly felt surprisingly clear-headed. He knew what he wanted to do, and he knew how he had to do it. He found it fitting that the two things he loved the most in the world would be the ultimate causes of his death. Pallavi, and organic chemistry. Jay possessed intimate knowledge of the piping around Tank 610. He slowly walked to a water hose close to the tank and picked it up. He knew exactly where he had to make the connection, exactly which pressure indicator he had to remove, and exactly what would happen once he turned on the water supply. As he put the finishing touches to his handiwork, and turned on the water, he fell onto the ground in a heap. With great effort, he got himself to turn around. He was now flat on his back, with his head looking skywards. He could see the top of the exhaust tower, 35 metres above the ground. He knew that slowly, as water filled up inside Tank 610, the temperature inside the tank would increase, and once over 39.1°C, the MIC would boil, and once the pressure exceeded a particular value, the emergency valve would go off, releasing gaseous MIC into the atmosphere from the very exhaust tower that he was looking at. Also, if he had judged the management right, the reaction would be accelerated by iron from the corroding non-stainless steel pipes, which had not yet been replaced. Once into the atmosphere, he knew the gas would descend upon him, as it was 2 times heavier than air. With this knowledge of his impending fate, Jay closed his eyes. His last thoughts were the moments that he spent with Pallavi by the lake near the plant. The clarity that he had felt earlier suddenly disappeared in a haze. If he was not drunk, he would perhaps have been able to foresee the tragedy that he had just unleashed, which would plague innocent people of Bhopal for decades to come…


This is completely a work of fiction, dedicated to the victims of the Bhopal Gas Tragedy.

Two...

Main kabhi batlaata nahin...

I don't know how old I was when I first realized Her presence in my life, but I doubt I would have been more than three. Three days old. As I sit alone in this empty house, thinking, yawning and typing all at the same time, I cannot imagine exactly what great deed I did in my previous life, that I got a mother like Her in this one. Every single second of my existence reminds me of the fact that while I may really not be worthy of being Her son, God truly loves me because He gave me, as my mother, the most beautiful woman in the world. Beautiful in absolutely every sense.

Right from the way She holds the phone in Her right hand and puts the receiver to Her left ear, to the way She makes those weird triangular shaped chapatis, from the way She calls me up every time She hears something cinema-related because She knows how much I love movies, to the way She'll ask me to watch 'Halla Bol' because the film depicts the so-called shocking realities in the film industry, absolutely everything about Her makes me love Her more, and more and more...

She'll give the nearest biscuit packet She can find to the nearest kid She can find. If She can't find a biscuit packet, then She'll probably give the kid some gold jewelery. And if She cant find a kid, then She'll give the biscuit packet to Her 'Best Friend' :D. I remember this scene from the film Kaante, where Sanjay Dutt thumps a cop, and yells “Give!”. Mom probably dreamt that scene when She was a few months old, because thats all She really does in Her life. Give.

I can never forget the day when Mom gave me my first ever Famous Five , 'Five go to Demon's Rocks'. I was five years old then. (I have always secretly wondered, if the series was called, say, Terrific Three, would would She have given me the book when I was three?) If there had to be one single defining moment in my life, then that would have to be it. With that book, I was drawn into the world of make-believe, and so much so, that 'make-believe' made me believe in my dreams, my aspirations, and most of all, myself. So, in the truest sense of the statement, I am what I am because of Her.

I think I have fought and argued more with Her than with any other person in the world, but God knows, the more I love a person, the more I tend to fight and argue with them. She says I blame Her for anything bad in my life. Well, She has to take the blame for the fact that I argue so much, as I argue so much only because I can argue, I can argue only because I read so much, I read so much only because I loved the first book I read, and She was the one who handed my first book to me! :)

I could go on and on and on about Her, but if I decided to write absolutely everything about Mom, then I will probably be doing only that for the rest of my life. I can sum up absolutely everything by just saying, 'Tujhe sab hai pata, hai na Maa?'

We'll share our soups...

The old adage, ‘Truth is stranger than fiction’, is one of the most recurrent themes of my life. People think I am profoundly influenced by cinema. While there is definite truth in that notion, the fact remains that I am most influenced by real life. And it is truly strange how life takes exactly those turns which test you as a person.

Ever since I can remember, I have always believed that every person on earth is equal before God. I find all grounds of differentiation between human beings baseless, none more than differentiation on the grounds of religion. How does it matter what we call our God, and how we pray to Him? Across the board, every single religion has its share of pros and cons. So I always feel pricked when people propose the idea that one religion is better than the other or that there is only ‘one true faith’. And maybe it is for exactly this reason that life recently dealt me cards which put one of my strongest beliefs to the test. The irony here is the fact that the most, for want of a better word, controversial, of my beliefs had to cross paths with the realm of my life closest to my heart.

More than once in the past months, I came close to counting against a person, the fact that he belonged to a different religion. When I look back, I can't believe that I came so very close to saying, “But he is a Christian!” And this didn't happen once, but twice! With two different guys! A drowning man would lunge for even a blade of grass, if he thinks it could save him. I now know that I would rather drown, than clutch at that blade of grass.

What bothers me is, how people tend to think that religion binds people together. Why is it so hard for people to realize that religion binds a person with God? I don't claim to be an expert on any particular religion, but after reading up on a lot of religions, I can confidently say that no religion is perfect. Every single religion in the world has some highly irrational beliefs and customs which go against simple logic. God wants his priests to be celibate? Men are to be accorded a higher status than women? A menstruating woman cannot perform religious rituals? Are these not completely asinine thoughts and beliefs? Some Hindu temples don't allow Christians to enter them. Others don't allow women to enter them. I can literally feel the temperature of my blood rise even as I write all of this. And to think, these are just the very few that came straight to my head right now. I could spend my entire life filling volumes with all the utter rubbish that religions across the world follow. When you think about it, you realize that the countless scandals that regularly crop up with regard to religious institutions, the Church paedophilia case for example, are nothing but long term effects of the ridiculous beliefs of various religions. And what I completely fail to understand is that if Pradeep, who has hardly seen anything in life, who knows absolutely nothing about anything, who can barely claim the ability to think for himself, and who has been able to survive in life only because the people around him are so nice, if he can see the obvious, then why can't other, more learned, more experienced people see the same? Why can't people challenge senseless beliefs, and adapt them so that they take into account the changes that the world has undergone over centuries?

Maybe we live in a world where, if you challenge the norms of any religion, you will probably meet a violent and gruesome end at the hands of religious fundamentalists. And if this really is the case, then I have more or less outlined the likely cause of my death. And to be honest, I couldn't have chosen a better way...

Make no mistake though, each religion does have its share of brilliant thoughts that I cannot help but love. I love how inherently tolerant Hinduism is of other religions because it does not force a person to convert. I love the fact that a Jewish rabbi has to be married. I love how true followers of Islam stand by their religion even as the West is trying its level best to demonize it. I love the non-violent nature of Buddhism, and I am truly fascinated by some of the teachings of Christ and the magnificent works of art that the Christian faith has spawned. The perfect religion to follow would be one which incorporates all the good points of each religion, and freely chucks out all the nonsense.

Being the optimist that I am, I'm confident that in my lifetime, there will come a change in the way people think. Hopefully, education will do what it is meant to do – make people think, not blindly follow what is told to them, and challenge anything that does not make sense to them. I would love it if religion is seen the world over as what it was really meant to be - a highly personal choice that a man or woman makes, as he or she deems fit, to communicate and feel one with God. If a Christian wants to marry a Hindu, then that should not make a damn difference to anyone else. The children of such a couple should be taught, by their parents, the various facets of both religions in the most objective manner, and the choice of which religion to follow should be left to the children only.

Of course, the greatest thing would be if, instead of associating God with any religion, people chose to just look around them and see how great the world is, and how truly great each human being is. How great then, would be the God that created all of this? How nice it would be if we were to see men and women as nearly equal, with women being held slightly higher, simply because they are so special. The greatest thing would be if every single person followed the religion of humanity.

For now, I can say only one thing - Live your life with whom you want to live your life. For what it is worth, I am with you, no matter what...

So many questions, so few answers...

Every once in a while, you come across a person who touches your heart in a way that few can. I have been lucky enough to regularly come across such people. These people have, without actually trying, inspired me, taught me some of the most important things in life, and made me see myself differently. God surely seems to like me a lot, because yet again, I have the privilege of getting to know someone truly special. And she is special in absolutely every sense of the word.

I remember, it had taken me all of three minutes to form my first impression of her. I thought she was simple, intelligent, warm, humble, sweet, funny and most of all, quite enigmatic. (For the skeptics, yes, I can think at least that much in 3 minutes) Now, seven months later, I can add another thousand adjectives to those, but the core impression remains exactly the same.

The first thing you notice when you see her is her million-watt smile. These days, I'm on a 'No problem is too big' trip. And believe it or not, the root of this lies in that smile of hers. The world seems to make perfect sense when she is smiling. So if you have spent all your money, been dumped by your girlfriend, flunked in Applied Mechanics, and been kicked out of your house since you are about as useful as a sack of infertile soil, maybe you should see her smile once. You may actually spot a silver lining somewhere in that dark cloud of yours. And perhaps the best thing about her smile is the fact that it is so infectious. I think I have smiled more in the last 7 months than I have in my entire life before that. Sometimes, I'm even smiling to myself, just for the heck of it! But then a lot of people think I'm a bit off my rocker anyway...

Then, you have got to hear her speak. Every single word, no matter which language she speaks in, is pronounced in the most perfect way possible. English has never sounded better to me. A phrase as mundane as 'Good Afternoon' sounds like poetry when it comes from her. And I get the distinct impression that God has appointed a dedicated angel just to regulate the speed and volume of her speech. They are as perfect as Roger Federer's impeccable forehand.

So, I have just mentioned the two worst things about her. :-) Time for the good part!

Her attitude towards life, people, and her work are so nice, so warm, so genuine, and so simple, that it can be likened to the first ever 'Happy Anniversary' card made by a child for his parents. Every time you talk to her, you are amazed at how much sense she makes in her most perspicuous statements. The one that comes straight to my mind is “Why be a Gloomy Cloud?”. I think one can live a life around those words. She has the most wonderful ability of being able to look at herself objectively, and of even laughing at herself. Her earthy sense of humour, and her almost child-like demeanour, though wonderful, are merely part of a natural facade that is as delicate as light cotton wool, and which masks her innate strength and maturity. And perhaps these are the qualities that I like the most in her. Her strength and her maturity are staggering in magnitude and over-whelming in nature. She herself would probably ask me, “Where in heaven can you see this strength and maturity?”. My reply to that would be that, at least to me, they are in plain sight, as clear as daylight. Her personality, her attitude, her sheer presence, all give rise to a million questions, the answers to which are worth waiting a lifetime for.

Her presence has benefited me in ways that I can't even begin to explain. I have always loved the people I love to death, and I have always felt that I could never love them more. (I could definitely show my love more, but that is another story...) Somehow though, ever since I have known her, I get the feeling that I love the people I love just a wee bit more than I did earlier! I also think I have begun looking at myself differently these days. Not that I've begun liking myself much, but I think I've begun understanding why I'm not exactly my favourite person! :-) Another thing I have learnt from her is what else one can do with a toothpick, but that is a story that deserves a blog post of its own!

I could go on and on, but I guess the bottom line is that I feel absolutely honoured, privileged, and lucky that I can call someone like her my friend. Knowing how great God is, I am absolutely sure, (and she'll be the first one to agree,) that there are many more people like her out there in the world. My only wish is that every single person in the world should know at least one of those people...

Movie Review: Jodhaa Akbar

“Hrithik Roshan playing Akbar?” was my first thought when Ashutosh Gowariker first announced his ambitious magnum opus Jodhaa Akbar. Now, nearly 4 years later, I gladly eat my words, because Hrithik Roshan as Jalal-ud-din Mohammed Akbar is one of the reasons that Gowariker’s fifth film, quite like his third and fourth, becomes the unforgettable cinematic experience that it is.

But Hrithik is just a cog in the massive machine that Gowariker’s masterful vision has assembled. It is an epic which is, at its core, a beautiful love story between not just a Mughal emperor and a Rajput princess, but a man and a woman. The film is well written, brilliantly shot and masterfully directed. Be it the impressive battle scenes or the ones depicting the sessions in the famous Diwan-i-Aam, each scene in this film is unforgettable, with the true classics being the interactions between Akbar and Jodhaa, as, slowly, one step at a time, Akbar is made to earn Jodhaa’s love and respect, which any man should have to do. The sword fight between Akbar and Jodhaa will, for me, go down as one of the best scenes ever in a Hindi film.

As mentioned earlier, the writing of this movie is top-notch, with the tight screenplay of the film supporting a story of inherently epic proportions. In particular, I would like to take my hat off to the idea that Akbar’s famous habit of moving amongst his people incognito had its root in a lesson that he learnt from Jodhaa. Also unique is the fact that for a change, amongst all of Akbar’s Navratnas, it is Todarmal who takes centre-stage in this story, as opposed to one of my all-time favourite historical characters, Birbal, who isn’t even mentioned in passing!

Technically, this film is nearly flawless. The cinematography is breath-taking and the production design is the absolute best. The editing is good, but the film should be trimmed a bit. The length is not really in issue, but certain portions in the movie are unnecessary. Special mention must be made of the songs Azeem-o-shaan Shahenshah and Khwaja Mere Khwaja. Their picturization adds an extra punch to A. R. Rahman’s compositions.

The performances in the movie are outstanding, with Hrithik Roshan bringing Akbar’s character to life. His posture, his expressions and his dialogue delivery are absolutely amazing. They say behind every successful man is a woman. I’d like to change that a bit to “With every successful man is a woman.” And in Akbar’s case, what a woman! The character of Jodhaa Bai is one of the best female leads in a movie in recent years. And Aishwariya Rai’s performance enhances it greatly. She has rarely expressed so well before, and proves that in the hands of a good director, she can truly do wonders. Also, she looks better in this film than ever before. The supporting cast in this movie has done a good job.

As a story teller, Ahutosh Gowariker impresses like never before. After watching Swades and Lagaan, I couldn’t help wishing that I had had a chance to tell those amazing stories in my own way. After this film though, all I could think was that I could never have told this story in this way. Jodhaa Akbar takes Gowariker one step further along the path to a special place in the annals of Indian film history.

So, for me, its 5 on 7 for Ashutosh Gowariker’s Jodhaa Akbar. Commercially, this film has the potential to take the ticket windows by storm. However, knowing how people tend to crib about long movies, I wouldn’t really want to predict the box-office fate of this film. But still, Jodhaa Akbar is truly a brilliant cinematic accomplishment by a fine film-maker. Whether this movie is fact or fiction is really of no consequence at all, because it is films like this that truly make cinema such a wonderful experience.

"Is death really so bad"

The Film:

The film starts off with Praj's accident, which leads to her death. She then awaits her meeting with her Creator. Her shock on realizing God's gender quickly changes into anger at being 'taken away' so early. She questions God on this. In the simplest of words, God tells her that life and death are pre-ordained. Praj seems mature enough to understand this. She then wants to know how she did in her life. Again, God makes her see that it really is what you think about yourself that truly matters, rather than what someone else thinks of you. Soon, you realize that just being in God's presence is so comforting, that Praj even goes on to take a few liberties with Her, hinting about the general notion people have about the masculinity of the Almighty. But then, God being God, knows about this, and jokes about it as well. And just when you think that the sun has set on Praj's life, you get to know that it is actually only the beginning of a long wait for Praj...

The Review:

I have always prided myself on being able to look at myself objectively, and it seems only logical to me that I review my own film the way I would any other. I hope to be completely objective, but I guess since I am the only person who knows what went into the making of this film, that might not be completely possible. So here goes…

We have all watched and criticized self-indulgent pieces of cinema like Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s ‘Devdas’, and more recently Anurag Kashyap’s ‘No Smoking’. However, very rarely will you come across 2 minutes of utter nonsense, packed with more self-indulgence and self-styled ‘tributes’ than Pradeep Menon’s “Is death really so bad?”

The first thought that passed through my mind after watched this was, “What the f@#$ was the director thinking? And who does he think he is anyway?”

While it must be said that the concept and more specifically, the idea that God is a Woman are quite original, one can’t help but wonder if there isn’t an easier, less abstract way of conveying simple ideas like the fact that we ought to bow before destiny or that God is a woman. Apart from the fact that the narrative is highly complex, with the viewer expected to understand philosophies of life from some seven-and-a-half words said by God, Pradeep has gone about trying to pay tributes to film-makers ranging from Quentin Tarantino and Alfred Hitchcock to Akira Kurosawa and even Satyajit Ray. Somebody ought to explain to Pradeep that liking these masters of cinema does not mean one can make movies like them. Even attempting to explain how he has tried would be an insult to these great names. Pradeep seems to have a particular liking for Tarantino, with no fewer than three different so-called tributes to him. One small example would be the subtext ‘9 minutes and 37 seconds later…’ which appears during this film. This has been picked straight out of Tarantino’s cult classic ‘Pulp Fiction’.

The screenplay of this movie seems to have been written with the right intent, but the execution is way below the mark. The performances by the lead actors are perfunctory. The blame for this lies, again, with the director. Deepti Patki as Praj expresses well, but one can spot her beginning to smile at a point where she should actually be livid, depressed and shocked, all at the same time. This is not a failure of the actor, but of the director. Something like this should never have even made it to the final cut of the film. Meghna Menon as God barely gets a few seconds of screen time, and so doesn’t get much scope. The cinematography is passable in general, and is actually good in a few places, considering that it is all hand-held. A few shots are unsteady though, and when you combine that with the terrible picture quality, the overall viewing experience that you get is pretty bad. The voice-over is terrible, and when you come to know later that that has also been done by Pradeep, you are pretty much ready to murder him.

There are some saving graces though. The editing of this movie is above average, and when you take this in context with the footage that was actually available to edit, you realize that Pradeep does seem to have a sound grasp of the aspects of editing a motion picture. The background music of the film is decent, with Pradeep coming up with a couple of original and hummable tunes. Harshil Adesara has played the tunes well.

So that is half out of 7 for Pradeep Menon’s first directorial offering, “Is death really so bad?” It is a film that may have been made with the right intent, but fails to make an impact on anyone viewing the film, simply because you barely understand the film in the first place. Add to that the poor direction, terrible picture quality and mind-numbing voice-over, and what you get may actually qualify as a medical marvel. Start playing this in front of someone who is sitting on the pot, battling constipation, and tell him that the film is going to play in an endless loop. The poor fellow will be out of the toilet in no time!

It turned out to be little more scathing than I thought it would be. I guess, for me, a bad film is a bad film, irrespective of any other factors. My head agrees with the review, but my heart doesn’t. 20 years down the line, a remake of this film is in the offing. And then, it will be shot at Marine Drive, Mumbai…

20 important things I have learnt till date

The learnings given below are all things that I have observed in the 21 (almost 22) years of my life. Most of them are not relevant to one another, and have been arranged in increasing order of the significance these learnings have in my life. I would be glad to indulge in a discussion regarding the reasons behind me arriving at each of the following 20 conclusions, and I would love it if people could tell my why one, some or all of these learnings are actually utter nonsense.

20 important things I have learnt till date

19. Everyone should have a best friend

18. Even if money is the last thing that matters to you, you cannot survive without it

17. It is very easy to portray an image of yourself that is completely opposite to the real You

16. It is possible for a person to be smarter at the age of 5 than at the age of 21

15. There is a certain amount of good in every single human being

14. There is absolutely no limit to the love you can feel for a person

13. There really is no substitute for hard work, but if you discount luck, then you will eventually face a shock

12. It is possible to fall truly in love at the age of 5

11. Mumbai is the greatest city in the world

10. If you really decide it, then it is possible to be happy, no matter what problems you have in life

9. Every human being should have at least one hobby which he/she is completely passionate about

8. Women are far superior to men

7. Still, no man would want to trade places with a woman

6. Everyone should have a sibling

5. God exists, and He won’t be angry that this learning is not Number 1.

4. It is nearly impossible to get over your first true love

3. And yet, it is possible to fall in love a second time.

2. It is possible to know, in just one instant, that you want to spend your entire life with a particular person

1. My parents are the best people in the world

0. You are always learning, every single day of your life.

I Hope You Dance...

“What is it about music that makes you remember things you prefer to forget?”

- From Chetan Bhagat’s ‘One Night @ The Call Centre'

In all the years I have spent reading books, I have never come across a line that has found more resonance with the deepest corners of my heart than the one above. And yet, it isn’t often that one feels like it is time to ‘update’ something so close to one’s heart. So, with a smile on my face, I shall go on to ask, ‘What is it about music that makes you feel things that you never knew were in you?’

Perhaps it really is someone else’s creativity that makes you feel the need to give vent to your own. The song that made me feel the urge to rewrite a piece of my heart is called ‘I hope you Dance’ by Lee Ann Womack. It is a song with lyrics as pure and simple as mineral water, but which can literally teach someone how to live their life.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder…
You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger…
May you never take one single breath for granted…
God forbid, Love ever leave you empty-handed…
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the Ocean…
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens...
Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance…
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
I hope you Dance…

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance…
Never settle for the path of least resistance…
Living might mean taking chances, but they’re worth taking…
Loving might be a mistake, but it’s worth making…
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter…
When you come close to selling out, reconsider…
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance…
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
I hope you Dance…

Combine this, first with a soothing, inspiring and almost divine melody and then with the voice of a woman. What results is something that, for me, goes beyond being a mere piece of art, something that transcends any barriers that might stop one from not feeling the magic associated with it, and that can even, for some, perhaps become a sort of ‘theme song’ for life. It, so simply, talks of how one should not ever stop marvelling at the sheer greatness of life, because no matter how much a lot of us may to tend to curse life, if you stop to think about it, the greatest thing about life is life itself. And life really is all about living it. It is about living it to the full, and loving it to the full. The song really talks of things that every human being actually inherently knows before he even knows his ABC and Q. But in the kind of world where we live, such elementary knowledge gets lost under the sheer weight of the problems that we think we carry. My method of reminding people of this would have involved clubbing them with my favourite hammer, and then pointing to a black board with such things written on it in big bold letters. Thankfully, Lee Ann Womack found a better way…

For me, as a person, it is all about love and life. So for me, being the person that I am, the ultimate beauty of this song lies where the verse reaches its crescendo.

When the song goes on to say ‘I hope you dance…’

The feeling I get in those exact moments cannot be described by mere adjectives. Or maybe they can be, but not by any adjectives that I know. They can perhaps be understood by knowing what I see in those moments.

I see her, adorned in pure white, walking by a beautiful beach at sunset. She seems ethereal as ever. The gentle wind is caressing her hair, as it almost rhythmically sways with the advance of each zephyr. She is smiling her usual simple yet effervescent smile, which can light up not just rooms, but lives as well. The soft ringing of her anklets signal her presence, just as they always do. (I have always wanted that sound to be a physical object, just so that I can touch it. :-) ) The impression she gives while walking in this beautiful setting is that she owns the place, but I suspect, for her, it is actually more about loving the place. She runs her hand over the head of a troubled child. And as he looks into her eyes, that tiny soul gets to know that eventually, all will end well. She continues walking, and as she walks by, anyone whose eyes fall on her, no matter what and how many problems they have in life, just for that one instant, they forget everything. At that moment, all of them find the strength to smile at her. Smile in spite of adversity.

And eventually she comes to a lone man who is standing by the sea, staring at the setting sun. Me. She just comes, holds my hand, and stands with me.

If someone came up to me and simply asked me to paint love and life, what would end up on canvas would probably look a lot like this scene. Salvador Dali would not have liked this painting at all :-) .But I suspect, deep down, he would see where I’m coming from.

I have never danced my entire life, but when Lee Ann Womack goes on to say ‘I hope you dance’, I almost do. I would ask everyone to listen to this song. It may inspire you to look at life and lives differently. Or as with me, it may make you visualize the person you love, living life with you. Or at least, if nothing else, when you hear this song, I hope you Dance…

One day, an Artist decided to make something perfect. So He started. But as He was nearing completion, for reasons that He Himself doesn’t know, He added some deliberate mistakes. And when He was done, He realized that it were those deliberate mistakes that truly made His art perfect. I am talking about God, and her…