I know the sound of two hands clapping and sometimes I try to figure out the sound of one hand clapping (as the Zen koan goes). But recently I’ve discovered
the sound of loneliness.
Don’t ask me where and why, as this seems to be more personal then what I love to divulge, but what’s important is that I did discover that, and believe me it’s repugnant like anything.
What is the sound of loneliness?
It isn’t silence.
Some of us actively seek silence. Some of us like solitude. But that’s aloneness, not loneliness.
Lonely is feeling invisible in a crowd. Or unheard in the melee.
Lonely is when you want to talk to someone…anyone…and all you can hear is telephones ringing and no one to pick them up.
Lonely is when you want to talk to one person only and everyone in the world but that person wants to talk to you.
The sound of a telephone ringing till it gets cut is the loneliest sound in the world. Whichever end you are at.
I have heard the sound so loudly recently, so all that I can tell is that it’s one of the most unpleasant things of the world.
why and how, will tell some other time.
Possibly a next part of this post, though I have never yet tried any sequel of any of my post, however idea seems good one. Isn’t it?
Well, above all that, the good news is, that I’m feeling far better now, as the atrocious sound of loneliness seems not appearing anymore.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
e mails, so what?
The dream which I've seen maximum number of times is one about finding my letterbox full with letters and most of these bearing my name. In the last 10
years, I've seen this numerous times.
It doesn't take Freud to interpret this dream. I love getting letters and really love to get them.
I've pen pals over the year- a bond formed by the letters
with those faceless strangers.
with the advent of technology my pen pals were replaced by chat friends; yahoo messenger and GMail taking the place of pen and paper.
But I still love to get letters, though now I hardly get one in a year. on the contrary my inbox is always full of new emails.
E mails: Electronic mails. extremely fast. I don't have to worry anymore about what the fate of the letter would be. Neither I have to wait for 15 days to
have a reply( the prompt one). sometimes the reply comes within a minute. but... as my cousin once wrote, Emails lack personal touch.
let me explain. my cousin and me used to keep in touch through letters. our relationship grew over the years through the letters and then emails and now
blogs.
we still email, call and keep in touch. but emails lack the speciality. unless u count the latest ways by which my cousin irritates me in the mails, there's
nothing to established that it's the mail coming from her. I mean, emails bear just some typed characters... without any uniqueness. any Tom-Dick-Harry
could have typed that. it doesn't have the unique ornate scrolls characterising his letters or the bad handwriting proclaiming to be a letter from me.
the Internet has done so many things. but it took away the personal touch. moreover, now we think..yeah..we'll send this..but ultimately we don't.
the world is getting smaller and smaller
it's now restricted to the satellite and Internet
but you and me are drifting apart
more distant than two stars,
thousands light years apart.
years, I've seen this numerous times.
It doesn't take Freud to interpret this dream. I love getting letters and really love to get them.
I've pen pals over the year- a bond formed by the letters
with those faceless strangers.
with the advent of technology my pen pals were replaced by chat friends; yahoo messenger and GMail taking the place of pen and paper.
But I still love to get letters, though now I hardly get one in a year. on the contrary my inbox is always full of new emails.
E mails: Electronic mails. extremely fast. I don't have to worry anymore about what the fate of the letter would be. Neither I have to wait for 15 days to
have a reply( the prompt one). sometimes the reply comes within a minute. but... as my cousin once wrote, Emails lack personal touch.
let me explain. my cousin and me used to keep in touch through letters. our relationship grew over the years through the letters and then emails and now
blogs.
we still email, call and keep in touch. but emails lack the speciality. unless u count the latest ways by which my cousin irritates me in the mails, there's
nothing to established that it's the mail coming from her. I mean, emails bear just some typed characters... without any uniqueness. any Tom-Dick-Harry
could have typed that. it doesn't have the unique ornate scrolls characterising his letters or the bad handwriting proclaiming to be a letter from me.
the Internet has done so many things. but it took away the personal touch. moreover, now we think..yeah..we'll send this..but ultimately we don't.
the world is getting smaller and smaller
it's now restricted to the satellite and Internet
but you and me are drifting apart
more distant than two stars,
thousands light years apart.
the line of fire
Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his
frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel. It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with
the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so manythings to do. He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to
put the time to some good use.
Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.
Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car.
"You people have brought so much advancement to the country sir. Today everything is getting computerized. "
"Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look.
He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and stocky like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place
in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling
pass.
"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things
outside."
Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a
few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it." For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but
restrained himself to a single statement. "It is complex, very complex."
"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.
This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence came into his so far affable, persuasive tone.
"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in. Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work.. Just
because we sit in an air-conditioned office does not mean our brows do not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me
that is no less taxing."
He had the man where he wanted him and it was time to drive home the point.
"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between
any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions accessing a single
database, at a time concurrency; data integrity, locking, data security.
Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?"
The man was stuck with amazement, like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code such
things."
"I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "But now I am the Project Manager,"
"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life is easy now."
It was like being told the fire was better than the frying pan. The man had to be given a feel of the heat.
"Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the
easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time
and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end always changing his requirements, the user
wanting something else and your boss always expecting you to have finished it yesterday."
Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a
wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you don't
know what it is to be in the line of fire."
The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization. When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.
"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire," He was staring blankly as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.
"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no
knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of
us were alive."
"You are a..."
"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 JK Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a land
assignment. But tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay
injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety. But my
captain refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and
welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded. His own personal safety came last, always and every
time. He was killed as he shielded that soldier into the bunker. Every morning now, as I stand guard I can see him taking all those bullets,
which were actually meant for me. I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire."
Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of his reply. Abruptly he switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a
word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; a valour and sense of duty which he had so far
attributed only to epical heroes.
The train slowed down as it pulled into the station and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight.
"It was nice meeting you sir."
Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the Tri-colour. Suddenly as if by
impulse, he stood at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute. It was the least he felt he could do for the country.
PS: The incident he narrates during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his
life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight. For this and his various other acts of bravery he was
awarded the Param Vir Chakra the nation's highest military award.
wat we get to learn is, that always live humblly, great are those who does speak from their qualities, rather then mouth.
frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel. It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with
the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so manythings to do. He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to
put the time to some good use.
Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.
Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car.
"You people have brought so much advancement to the country sir. Today everything is getting computerized. "
"Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look.
He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and stocky like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place
in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling
pass.
"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things
outside."
Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a
few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it." For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but
restrained himself to a single statement. "It is complex, very complex."
"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.
This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence came into his so far affable, persuasive tone.
"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in. Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work.. Just
because we sit in an air-conditioned office does not mean our brows do not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me
that is no less taxing."
He had the man where he wanted him and it was time to drive home the point.
"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between
any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions accessing a single
database, at a time concurrency; data integrity, locking, data security.
Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?"
The man was stuck with amazement, like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code such
things."
"I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "But now I am the Project Manager,"
"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life is easy now."
It was like being told the fire was better than the frying pan. The man had to be given a feel of the heat.
"Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the
easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time
and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end always changing his requirements, the user
wanting something else and your boss always expecting you to have finished it yesterday."
Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a
wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you don't
know what it is to be in the line of fire."
The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization. When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.
"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire," He was staring blankly as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.
"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no
knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of
us were alive."
"You are a..."
"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 JK Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a land
assignment. But tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay
injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety. But my
captain refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and
welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded. His own personal safety came last, always and every
time. He was killed as he shielded that soldier into the bunker. Every morning now, as I stand guard I can see him taking all those bullets,
which were actually meant for me. I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire."
Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of his reply. Abruptly he switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a
word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; a valour and sense of duty which he had so far
attributed only to epical heroes.
The train slowed down as it pulled into the station and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight.
"It was nice meeting you sir."
Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the Tri-colour. Suddenly as if by
impulse, he stood at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute. It was the least he felt he could do for the country.
PS: The incident he narrates during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his
life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight. For this and his various other acts of bravery he was
awarded the Param Vir Chakra the nation's highest military award.
wat we get to learn is, that always live humblly, great are those who does speak from their qualities, rather then mouth.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
nothing can complete you
It is time to remind myself about something I told my friend some months ago.
Sometimes we make ourselves believe that we need more to feel complete or
to feel happy. People, objects, emotions- it could be anything. But that’s not so. The reality of my life or anyone’s is that what ever you need, life
has already given it to you. If you feel something is not there or cannot sense something, probably you have no need for it. Really, there is nothing lacking
in you for someone to come and complete. Just consider this, if you truly don’t have love , then how can you even offer it to others? If you crave love,
does it mean you are empty of love? Do you expect someone to come fill your heart with love, so that you can give that same love in return? No, you love
because you already have that emotion in you. And so when someone doesn’t reciprocate your love with love, let it not lead you to a sense of incompleteness
or despair. Instead know that before wanting someone’s attention, you need to first love yourself and be at peace with yourself. Only when there is love
in your life, a completeness with yourself, can you understand and see love. Else when it comes you won’t even be able to recognize it.
Sometimes we make ourselves believe that we need more to feel complete or
to feel happy. People, objects, emotions- it could be anything. But that’s not so. The reality of my life or anyone’s is that what ever you need, life
has already given it to you. If you feel something is not there or cannot sense something, probably you have no need for it. Really, there is nothing lacking
in you for someone to come and complete. Just consider this, if you truly don’t have love , then how can you even offer it to others? If you crave love,
does it mean you are empty of love? Do you expect someone to come fill your heart with love, so that you can give that same love in return? No, you love
because you already have that emotion in you. And so when someone doesn’t reciprocate your love with love, let it not lead you to a sense of incompleteness
or despair. Instead know that before wanting someone’s attention, you need to first love yourself and be at peace with yourself. Only when there is love
in your life, a completeness with yourself, can you understand and see love. Else when it comes you won’t even be able to recognize it.
mango people and their love aaj kal
If you’re sick to death of the steadily more misogynistic, if not just plain misanthropic, fare out there masquerading as romcoms, you might want to head
on over to a screening of Imtiaz Ali’s Love Aaj Kal.
The love story of a bridge engineer who can’t get in touch with what he wants and an art-restorer
who can’t figure out how to put her emotional life back in its proper place, it’s for people who don’t appreciate being sneered at while being relieved
of their money.
First off, for those of you prepped to watch Jab We Met Part II: it’s nothing of the kind. Or let’s put it this way – LAK is to JWM what JWM was to Socha
Na Tha. It’s got the two people who’re clearly perfect for each other, who understand each other to the point where you’re glad that they do because it’s
unlikely anybody else (least of all yourself) would even know where to start, and they screw things up in all the ways they possibly could. But their journey
is very much their own.
Which leads me to the second thing you should be aware of: this is not an exuberant movie. It keeps threatening to go the distance, but Jai (Saif Ali Khan)
and Meera (Deepika Padukone) are simply too laidback and grounded (in a stuck into unyielding soil kind of way) for things to fall out that way.
The tone is set at the very beginning of the movie, as the credits roll to a stop, and Jai and Meera meet at their favorite London cafe to discuss their
future or, rather, lack of one. Meera restores frescoes and wants to go to Delhi to do it; Jai is an engineer obsessed with the Golden Gate Bridge in San
Fransisco and is working hard to get there. It’s a truism of our times that long-distance relationships never work, so they decide to leave things when
they’re still good, throw themselves a break-up party, and set out on their separate civilized paths.
They’re not lovers out of legend, as Jai (who has a habit of blathering when nervous) explains to Meera. It’s one thing for Romeo and Juliet or Laila and
Majnu to die pining for love. But this is real life and they’re aam junta – ordinary people – or what he punningly calls The Mango People. And Mango People
don’t die of broken hearts. They go with the flow coz they know life goes on.
So that’s that. But with nearly two hours to go in the movie, what next?
Well, life goes on is what next. They meet other people, they keep in touch, career goals slowly fall in place, Rishi Kapoor intermittently shows up to
test Jai’s Theory of the Mango People… nothing very dramatic. Unless you think emotional two-timing is dramatic.
As Meera experiences her moment of epiphany in the latter half, for the first time ever that I can think of in a Bollywood movie a character recognizes
the utter lack of virtue in a relationship where one party is forever emotionally engaged with someone else. “What am I doing?” she mutters to herself
in disbelief as she finally recognizes the utter mess she and Jai have managed to create in their well-ordered, logical fashion and the deep-reaching impact
it’s going to have on innocent by-standers. In the hands of a more experienced actress, I suspect that scene would have blown me away – but even with Deepika
flatlining in the middle of it, it’s still a remarkable moment because Meera sets up her guillotine in the middle of her freakin’ honeymoon suite without
trying to so much as blur the edges of the blade.
[Digression: how many people do you know who called things off within months of their marriage? I was thinking about it, and I seem to know about five couples
personally who did so and I've heard people mention at least three more. Is that odd or par for my generation? Yet another reason why I should stop attending
weddings: "You don't want me at Pinky's wedding - I jinx the happy couple, Auntie!"]
To say that Deepika puts in her career-best performance is hardly praise of the first order given her debut movie required her to be a beautiful animated
poster girl in a Shahrukh Khan extravaganza and her last two releases were Bachna Ae Haseeno and Chandni Chowk to China through which she pretty much sleepwalked.
And as the scene above illustrated rather painfully, she has a fatal tendency to transform into wood when asked to do two things at once – like act while
delivering dialogue.
But to give credit where it’s due, she nails the moments of quiet retrospection. So it’s a pretty good thing then that Meera is such a reserved figure,
given much more to reaction rather than exuberant action unlike, say, Geet in Jab We Met or even Aditi in Socha Na Tha. In one pivotal scene as the tangled
emotions between Meera and Jai reach their knottiest, she doesn’t utter a single word; the camera stays focused on the back of her head as Jai stutters,
stammers and fumbles his way to a recognition, not quite an understanding, of what lies between them. It is only then, at the very end of the soliloquy,
that we see her face and in that instant, it says a whole lot more than any other scene we see her in.
Instead of growing apart from each other, as the film progresses Jai and Meera grow up apart from each other. One of the funniest sequences in the movie
(well, nobody said my sense of humor was a thing of light and joy) comes as Jai ends up in a deep funk towards the end, rather comically so. If you’ve
ever known an Indian man (sorry guys, but it’s not a secret, is it?) completely stuck on a girl, it’s a hilarious variation on a theme. The only difference
between Jai and the sepia-tinted Veer Singh (Saif as Rishi Kapoor in his salad days) is that Jai’s depression sneaks up on him in his modern day isolation
cube of brown bag lunches and video games, while Veer celebrates his despair with his friends just as much as he celebrates his foolishly romantic love.
And it is as you watch Saif (getting better by the minute) painfully arrive at his hard won moment of epiphany, blindingly obvious as it was to everybody
else, and make his way to Delhi to once more run his Theory of the Mango People past his best girl, that you’re shocked to feel the stirrings of affection
in your heart for these two crazy kids.
Because frankly, while you like Jai and Meera as people, and you like the way they are together, the movie does a good job of showing us an alternate reality
where they really could go on the way they were up till then and things would’ve been fine. And if they were other people, other Mango People, without
that strong sense of individuality that infuses these two, then perhaps their choices would have been different. Perhaps Jai wouldn’t gone into a tailspin
if only he could’ve talked to Meera every so often; perhaps Meera would have stuck to her guns if Jai didn’t like to talk aloud when nervous.
The difference between the lovers aaj and the lovers kal, Love Aaj Kal seems to say, is that lovers back in the day weren’t held back by the fact that they
were Mango People. When Veer falls for his Harleen (a very pretty girl who can’t lip-synch worth a damn and is either called Gisele or Shweta or Simran
– nobody knows!), his first thought isn’t that he isn’t equipped to be a lover when all he has is a bicycle and a bunch of louche friends, neither of which
she appreciates; love has exempted him from Mango-status. Even though the lovers these days have more choices and more options, the movie says, they seem
to be a little too taken by their Mango-status to ask for the things they need while busily running after the things they want.
The smartest, and perhaps even bravest, person Jai meets on his journey might well be Jo the Swiss Blonde (what’s with
Saif and Swiss blondes
anyway?) who may not be able to speak English very well but is clever enough to directly address the big gaping hole in their relationship and ask him for
what she needs – and then sweetly tells him to take a shovel to the bullshit he offers her instead.
Didn’t I say it was a good thing Meera and Jai have each other? Maybe that’s what made for each other really is – when you meet the one person in the world
who is willing to wait for you to realize that you’re standing in a field of manure… by your side.
on over to a screening of Imtiaz Ali’s Love Aaj Kal.
The love story of a bridge engineer who can’t get in touch with what he wants and an art-restorer
who can’t figure out how to put her emotional life back in its proper place, it’s for people who don’t appreciate being sneered at while being relieved
of their money.
First off, for those of you prepped to watch Jab We Met Part II: it’s nothing of the kind. Or let’s put it this way – LAK is to JWM what JWM was to Socha
Na Tha. It’s got the two people who’re clearly perfect for each other, who understand each other to the point where you’re glad that they do because it’s
unlikely anybody else (least of all yourself) would even know where to start, and they screw things up in all the ways they possibly could. But their journey
is very much their own.
Which leads me to the second thing you should be aware of: this is not an exuberant movie. It keeps threatening to go the distance, but Jai (Saif Ali Khan)
and Meera (Deepika Padukone) are simply too laidback and grounded (in a stuck into unyielding soil kind of way) for things to fall out that way.
The tone is set at the very beginning of the movie, as the credits roll to a stop, and Jai and Meera meet at their favorite London cafe to discuss their
future or, rather, lack of one. Meera restores frescoes and wants to go to Delhi to do it; Jai is an engineer obsessed with the Golden Gate Bridge in San
Fransisco and is working hard to get there. It’s a truism of our times that long-distance relationships never work, so they decide to leave things when
they’re still good, throw themselves a break-up party, and set out on their separate civilized paths.
They’re not lovers out of legend, as Jai (who has a habit of blathering when nervous) explains to Meera. It’s one thing for Romeo and Juliet or Laila and
Majnu to die pining for love. But this is real life and they’re aam junta – ordinary people – or what he punningly calls The Mango People. And Mango People
don’t die of broken hearts. They go with the flow coz they know life goes on.
So that’s that. But with nearly two hours to go in the movie, what next?
Well, life goes on is what next. They meet other people, they keep in touch, career goals slowly fall in place, Rishi Kapoor intermittently shows up to
test Jai’s Theory of the Mango People… nothing very dramatic. Unless you think emotional two-timing is dramatic.
As Meera experiences her moment of epiphany in the latter half, for the first time ever that I can think of in a Bollywood movie a character recognizes
the utter lack of virtue in a relationship where one party is forever emotionally engaged with someone else. “What am I doing?” she mutters to herself
in disbelief as she finally recognizes the utter mess she and Jai have managed to create in their well-ordered, logical fashion and the deep-reaching impact
it’s going to have on innocent by-standers. In the hands of a more experienced actress, I suspect that scene would have blown me away – but even with Deepika
flatlining in the middle of it, it’s still a remarkable moment because Meera sets up her guillotine in the middle of her freakin’ honeymoon suite without
trying to so much as blur the edges of the blade.
[Digression: how many people do you know who called things off within months of their marriage? I was thinking about it, and I seem to know about five couples
personally who did so and I've heard people mention at least three more. Is that odd or par for my generation? Yet another reason why I should stop attending
weddings: "You don't want me at Pinky's wedding - I jinx the happy couple, Auntie!"]
To say that Deepika puts in her career-best performance is hardly praise of the first order given her debut movie required her to be a beautiful animated
poster girl in a Shahrukh Khan extravaganza and her last two releases were Bachna Ae Haseeno and Chandni Chowk to China through which she pretty much sleepwalked.
And as the scene above illustrated rather painfully, she has a fatal tendency to transform into wood when asked to do two things at once – like act while
delivering dialogue.
But to give credit where it’s due, she nails the moments of quiet retrospection. So it’s a pretty good thing then that Meera is such a reserved figure,
given much more to reaction rather than exuberant action unlike, say, Geet in Jab We Met or even Aditi in Socha Na Tha. In one pivotal scene as the tangled
emotions between Meera and Jai reach their knottiest, she doesn’t utter a single word; the camera stays focused on the back of her head as Jai stutters,
stammers and fumbles his way to a recognition, not quite an understanding, of what lies between them. It is only then, at the very end of the soliloquy,
that we see her face and in that instant, it says a whole lot more than any other scene we see her in.
Instead of growing apart from each other, as the film progresses Jai and Meera grow up apart from each other. One of the funniest sequences in the movie
(well, nobody said my sense of humor was a thing of light and joy) comes as Jai ends up in a deep funk towards the end, rather comically so. If you’ve
ever known an Indian man (sorry guys, but it’s not a secret, is it?) completely stuck on a girl, it’s a hilarious variation on a theme. The only difference
between Jai and the sepia-tinted Veer Singh (Saif as Rishi Kapoor in his salad days) is that Jai’s depression sneaks up on him in his modern day isolation
cube of brown bag lunches and video games, while Veer celebrates his despair with his friends just as much as he celebrates his foolishly romantic love.
And it is as you watch Saif (getting better by the minute) painfully arrive at his hard won moment of epiphany, blindingly obvious as it was to everybody
else, and make his way to Delhi to once more run his Theory of the Mango People past his best girl, that you’re shocked to feel the stirrings of affection
in your heart for these two crazy kids.
Because frankly, while you like Jai and Meera as people, and you like the way they are together, the movie does a good job of showing us an alternate reality
where they really could go on the way they were up till then and things would’ve been fine. And if they were other people, other Mango People, without
that strong sense of individuality that infuses these two, then perhaps their choices would have been different. Perhaps Jai wouldn’t gone into a tailspin
if only he could’ve talked to Meera every so often; perhaps Meera would have stuck to her guns if Jai didn’t like to talk aloud when nervous.
The difference between the lovers aaj and the lovers kal, Love Aaj Kal seems to say, is that lovers back in the day weren’t held back by the fact that they
were Mango People. When Veer falls for his Harleen (a very pretty girl who can’t lip-synch worth a damn and is either called Gisele or Shweta or Simran
– nobody knows!), his first thought isn’t that he isn’t equipped to be a lover when all he has is a bicycle and a bunch of louche friends, neither of which
she appreciates; love has exempted him from Mango-status. Even though the lovers these days have more choices and more options, the movie says, they seem
to be a little too taken by their Mango-status to ask for the things they need while busily running after the things they want.
The smartest, and perhaps even bravest, person Jai meets on his journey might well be Jo the Swiss Blonde (what’s with
Saif and Swiss blondes
anyway?) who may not be able to speak English very well but is clever enough to directly address the big gaping hole in their relationship and ask him for
what she needs – and then sweetly tells him to take a shovel to the bullshit he offers her instead.
Didn’t I say it was a good thing Meera and Jai have each other? Maybe that’s what made for each other really is – when you meet the one person in the world
who is willing to wait for you to realize that you’re standing in a field of manure… by your side.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
my take on cars and bikes advertisements
Have you seen the Honda Jazz ad? The man puts a cactus in his car so he can gift his girlfriend the flower growing on it, and then they leave the plant
by the roadside. What are they trying to say? Let's spoil the environment for fun? Let's go burn more oil?
Oh, but maybe I'm being too serious here, and there's a joke I didn't get.*
On the subject of ads, I hate most car and bike ads. They are full of machoist posturing and usually imply that the right bike will help you 'get the girls'.
But there have been two two-wheeler ads lately that I love.
The first one is of Hero Honda Passion Pro. It builds a story around one benefit: the bike starts easily. They do talk about 'style' in the voiceover, though. Lovely
jingle, too.
The other one is for TVS Scooty Streak.
Aimed at women, it's funny and empowering. It's a nice dig at all the other bike commercials that have women wanting to ride pillion to demonstrate the
attractiveness of the bike.
I'm glad Hero Honda came up with a good ad for once. TVS Scooty, though, has been using Sania Mirza very well, I think!
*The tagline is "Why so serious?"
by the roadside. What are they trying to say? Let's spoil the environment for fun? Let's go burn more oil?
Oh, but maybe I'm being too serious here, and there's a joke I didn't get.*
On the subject of ads, I hate most car and bike ads. They are full of machoist posturing and usually imply that the right bike will help you 'get the girls'.
But there have been two two-wheeler ads lately that I love.
The first one is of Hero Honda Passion Pro. It builds a story around one benefit: the bike starts easily. They do talk about 'style' in the voiceover, though. Lovely
jingle, too.
The other one is for TVS Scooty Streak.
Aimed at women, it's funny and empowering. It's a nice dig at all the other bike commercials that have women wanting to ride pillion to demonstrate the
attractiveness of the bike.
I'm glad Hero Honda came up with a good ad for once. TVS Scooty, though, has been using Sania Mirza very well, I think!
*The tagline is "Why so serious?"
Saturday, July 25, 2009
thoughts, thoughts, thoughts
Lately, I have been thinking about thinking. Or in fancyspeak, metacognition.
Throughout the day, millions of thoughts race across our heads at breakneck speed, sometimes not even pausing enough for us to register them. There are the happy thoughts, and there are the not-so-happy thoughts. The older we grow, the percentage of the latter grows with us. There are a million things to think about, and not surprisingly a large portion of it is again, about thinking.
How much we think! Ugh.
What people in the past thought about us and what we thought of them. What they thought we thought about them and what we thought they about us. What we made people think. What people made us think. What people are thinking about us and what we're thinking about people. What people think we're thinking about them and what we think people are thinking about us. What people will think of us and what we will think of people. What people will think we will think about them and what we will think people will think about us. You get the drift. I could go on, but there are only three tenses. Of course, there's the fourth kind of 'tense' which is what listing all of this has made me. There's just so much unnecessary thinking. And no matter how many times we tell ourselves and the people we care about that it's not worth it, sometimes we just can't help thinking. 'To hell with it!' is an excellent strategy, but it does have its moments of failure.
Most of the time, it's easier when people just express the thoughts in the form of speech. Out with it. Over and done. But they don't. They don't and we don't and all of us just choose to clam our mouths and trap the thoughts in the head. For the better. To keep things cordial. Us confusing them, them confusing us. We don't talk, we think. Because talking would be worse. But sometimes, thinking is worse. To keep on thinking is even worse. Not only does it drive us nuts, all this thinking... is almost exhausting. But it remains, an essential part of human life, to think about things that are not worth thinking about, even though no one really likes to nurse an occasional migraine or two.
So, in order not to think, we do
things. We do things in the hope that we can think about the things we're doing, and not think about the things we shouldn't think about. However, this only works if we're actually thinking about what we're doing, and not cheating our way through this solution. And then of course, there's the random wellwisher. One who comes along to invalidate whatever we're feeling with advice as moronic as, "Hmmm... Try
not
to think about it." Actually, that does give us something else to think about -- how to decapitate said wellwisher using nothing but dental floss.
Sigh. Thoughts. Complex words that do not have a speech bubble wrapped around them. Words expressed in a language no one can understand fully. Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em.
However, the best way to get rid of any thought is to blog about it. It's a tried and tested method, at least by me!
For some reason, it helps. Stops right there. We can carry on with life. And that's what I am trying to do. It's not like I have a particular thought in my head right now that's driving me crazy. It's the thinking about thinking that's driving me crazy. And I do hope that after hitting 'Publish post', I can stop thinking. About thinking.
Confused? Great!
Even I did not understand this time, what I have wrote.
however, Still an advice to you, that go above and read this post once again.
And, most importantly, if you can understand even a bit, let me know the same via your comments so that this imprudent can grasp a tad.
Throughout the day, millions of thoughts race across our heads at breakneck speed, sometimes not even pausing enough for us to register them. There are the happy thoughts, and there are the not-so-happy thoughts. The older we grow, the percentage of the latter grows with us. There are a million things to think about, and not surprisingly a large portion of it is again, about thinking.
How much we think! Ugh.
What people in the past thought about us and what we thought of them. What they thought we thought about them and what we thought they about us. What we made people think. What people made us think. What people are thinking about us and what we're thinking about people. What people think we're thinking about them and what we think people are thinking about us. What people will think of us and what we will think of people. What people will think we will think about them and what we will think people will think about us. You get the drift. I could go on, but there are only three tenses. Of course, there's the fourth kind of 'tense' which is what listing all of this has made me. There's just so much unnecessary thinking. And no matter how many times we tell ourselves and the people we care about that it's not worth it, sometimes we just can't help thinking. 'To hell with it!' is an excellent strategy, but it does have its moments of failure.
Most of the time, it's easier when people just express the thoughts in the form of speech. Out with it. Over and done. But they don't. They don't and we don't and all of us just choose to clam our mouths and trap the thoughts in the head. For the better. To keep things cordial. Us confusing them, them confusing us. We don't talk, we think. Because talking would be worse. But sometimes, thinking is worse. To keep on thinking is even worse. Not only does it drive us nuts, all this thinking... is almost exhausting. But it remains, an essential part of human life, to think about things that are not worth thinking about, even though no one really likes to nurse an occasional migraine or two.
So, in order not to think, we do
things. We do things in the hope that we can think about the things we're doing, and not think about the things we shouldn't think about. However, this only works if we're actually thinking about what we're doing, and not cheating our way through this solution. And then of course, there's the random wellwisher. One who comes along to invalidate whatever we're feeling with advice as moronic as, "Hmmm... Try
not
to think about it." Actually, that does give us something else to think about -- how to decapitate said wellwisher using nothing but dental floss.
Sigh. Thoughts. Complex words that do not have a speech bubble wrapped around them. Words expressed in a language no one can understand fully. Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em.
However, the best way to get rid of any thought is to blog about it. It's a tried and tested method, at least by me!
For some reason, it helps. Stops right there. We can carry on with life. And that's what I am trying to do. It's not like I have a particular thought in my head right now that's driving me crazy. It's the thinking about thinking that's driving me crazy. And I do hope that after hitting 'Publish post', I can stop thinking. About thinking.
Confused? Great!
Even I did not understand this time, what I have wrote.
however, Still an advice to you, that go above and read this post once again.
And, most importantly, if you can understand even a bit, let me know the same via your comments so that this imprudent can grasp a tad.
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