Not Ok, Mind-blowing Kanmani!

Ok Kanmani is so many things. An instant mood lifter. A real piece of life. A set of people who seem so real you feel they have been captured using a spy camera. Dance that reminds you of real people in your life. Clothes that you can imagine yourself or people known to you in. Mumbai that is not glamourized to focus on snazziness or pathos. Mumbai we know, with its crowd, its rush, its trains, its nooks and crannies, its pothole puddles, its non-interfering world, its contrast, blending with the story like sugar in Ramashreya’s filter coffee. Adding sweetness, but never overshadowing the taste of coffee.

After debacles named Guru and Raavan, this movie reintroduced me to the Ratnam, the Hrishikesh Mukherjee of South (don’t you see the similarities?), who gave us gems like Anjali, Mouna Ragam, Nayagan, Roja, Bombay, Alaipayuthe, and Yuva. This movie reiterates that nobody captures the essence of people, places, and passions like Ratnam does.

The beauty of this movie is that it doesn’t overindulge in frilly romance, shocking pathos, and unnecessary drama. It tells you the story of two couples, of two generation at odds with each other but willing to see the other side, willing to meet half way. The telling of the story is refreshing, despite the fact that some scenes are reminiscent of Alaipayuthe. In fact, this movie is a notch higher in terms of narrative, characterization, and treatment.

This movie boasts some awesome performances. Prakash Raj’s Ganapathy tells a thousand stories with his eyes and understated performance. His reaction when he hears Tara (Nithya Menen) sing ‘Malargal Kaetten’ proves that he is one of the best actors we have (let’s please ignore his over-the-top villain roles). Leela Samson is convincing as Bhavani, a musician, a wife dealing with Alzheimer’s. Never for a moment does she forget what her role demands, the loss of memory written all over her innocent, clueless face. The chemistry and companionship between Raj and Samson is beautiful and between Dulquer and Nithya is bubbly. In both the cases, the chemistry is effortless. Ratnam weaves relationship dynamics so well that you are with the characters, living and feeling with them. Trust me, Hindi movies can take a lesson or two about the art of characterization and narration from this movie.

The best thing about the movie: language is not a barrier. Yes, there are subtitles, but you don’t need to look at them for a minute because every nuance is packed into the performances. Must watch for people who like entertaining realism. Must must watch for those who believe such a genre is dead.

Harper Lee's 'To Kill a Mockingbird'

A book that left a lasting impression on me is Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. The first time I read this novel I was 21 and it left the chirpy me quiet for several days.
 

I was bowled over by its protagonist – Atticus Finch, a widower with two young children. Atticus doesn’t fit the image of the typical hero that I normally fancied. He is neither a chocolate hero from a romantic comedy nor is he a proud, strong-headed lead whose soft side is revealed in the end. Atticus is a powerful personality who, with his dedication for his cause (fighting a case embroiled in racist controversies) and silent resilience, made me realize that a powerful personality is not about great biceps and rugged looks or a successful career and pleasing attitude. It is about standing up for what you believe in even in the face of severe opposition. Atticus has the strength to accept everyone, especially his neighbours, as they are and forgive his detractors. He is a perfect father, who balances love and discipline without ever losing his temper. 

Atticus made me understand rebellion in its true sense. I realized that we don't need to scream our lungs out or protest hoarsely to challenge what is wrong. He made me believe in the power of a non-violent, just struggle.

Vicious Recommendation

What's Your Raashee? is not a complete dud. Apart from being an effective cure for insomnia, you will love this film if and only if:
1. You love going to theatres to enjoy the mahaul – the popcorn, the guys/gals, and are addicted to such settings.
2. You are dumb enough to love tuneless, meaningless songs picturised on equally or more meaningless scenarios.
3. You are so bored that you don’t mind watching boringly long films with nothing to offer to kill time.
4. You plan to test the world’s most boring and illogical concepts used in films.
5. You have withstood similar or more difficult boredom tests such as having a nagging spouse/friends/parents/colleagues/etc or a boring colleague who can bore the shit out of you (not literally!).
6. You believe that art is a product of whims and fancies. You would enjoy ‘Arts for art’s sake’ in its truest sense. The humble Ashutosh always aimed for the bouncers… err skies! And the skies are accessible only through faith, not logic.
7. You love a guy/gal but they are in a relationship with some good-for-nothing. Urge the villain to buy the tickets. Your eye-candy will not even wait for the interval of the film to break up with the villain.
8. You have wanted to chat with your better half for a long time. No constructive topic, as you choose to disagree on every topic from food to films to fetish. This is the film for you. You both will happily crib about this film and non-stop for 3 hours 45 minutes. Now that’s quality time – no silly, not for films but for soul-to-soul chats.
9. You want to serve the society. (Don’t give me that How-on-earth expression please). Actually, Ashutosh, being the humanitarian that he is, decided that seeds of great values such as patience and being non-judgmental take time to mature. So, he made a film which worked as a complete package – each passing scene and characters are so obvious and intolerable that they test different levels of patience. By the end of the film, you have withstood and are immune to stress tests. The best part is that people exiting from theatres have a calm yogic smile that can only be achieved with tough penance. Ashutosh made it look so easy and bearable. Hail Ashutosh!
10. You are a believer who sees the Divine Hand behind each design. Believers are a step ahead of determinists. You will realize and appreciate the plausibility of 12 Priyanka Chopras of 12 different sun signs responding to the hero’s (can’t make ‘h’ look smaller than this) profile. While other movie buffs are baffled by the illogical approach you would not even be mildly surprised.
11. You are a Good Samaritan, who cares for the well-being of all associated with the film.
12. You are a karmic yogi, who expects nothing and believes in toeing life’s course.
13. You are God! You will forgive Ashutosh’s sin and bear the pain with a smile.
14. You are Buddha. You will have no desire hence no desire to walk out of the theatre or bash Ashutosh for such trash or kick the hell out of Harman to ensure that he understands he can’t act to save his life.
15. You have been contemplating suicide. You would instantly realize the futility of thinking, which is so well-exhibited by the prime characters and the director himself. You would see how like the film, nothing in life, makes sense. No point applying logic.

Marine Drive Blues

Z+ security spells a bad day for regular junta, what with roads blocks, long diversions, and almost stagnant traffic. Imagine arriving at Marine Drive at 7.15 in the evening - the glory hour - and finding it sans it glory of coochie-cooing couples, hawkers selling wares at almost twice the original price (location tax I believe), click-happy tourists, carefree youngsters, families with kids, and joggers in almost always grossly fitted clothes and/or having really sweet cuddly doggies.
My heart leapt with joy to see that we had the whole promenade, enhanced further with pleasant drizzles, almost to ourselves. Alas! Like the high-low rhythm of the waves, after that leap my heart had to fall with a thud. Within minutes of our reaching there, the Marine Drive signal right outside Jazz By Bay resembled a police ground ready for a mini drill, with almost eight cops managing traffic (read ruining). 'Oh Ok. What now?' that was my first thought.
We ambled to the promenade. It was the first time I had managed to cross both lanes of the busy without running to save my life from sleek, extra-speeding vehicles. More happiness was in store, as we had so many best spots to choose from. The rain was perfect and the clouds were lazily strolling around egged by the gentle wind. A full moon, and I would be at peace. I would have happily chosen that moment to die without any regrets.
But VVIPs and their Z+ security arrangements interrupted my zen-like state. ARRGGH! Sitting on the promenade, I watched cops behave like they were handling some national emergency. Thanks to their diligent efforts, the lane heading towards Chowpatty was completely deserted, except for a few police vehicles, and the other lane was choc-o-block. As I saw luxurious cars honking desperately to move an inch, I realised traffic too is a great leveler*. Well, not really. The VVIP politicians would enjoy a freeway ride while other motorists were stuck. Not very different from how we handle everything in our country. We channelize our resources for the betterment of the privileged, without sparing a thought for the underprivileged.
Just when I was about to feel empathetic towards my middleclass brethren, I saw some slimy brown layer on the water. After much squinting, I realized that the slime was the by-product of our love for Lord Ganesha. Then, at the shore were a host of things from broken beer bottles to cola bottles, from plastic waste to condoms, from chocolate wrappers to gutkha pouches.

With a frown, I sat watching people disturbing lives around them and wondering when would sense prevail. The sea breeze eased the frown and settled my worries. The gentle raindrops changed my reactive ‘Why’ to a reflective ‘Why’.
Only Marine Drive could and can stir the blues and settle them at the same time.

It's a Question of Time

The concept of time never fails to baffle me. In fact, with each passing year I wonder who decided to divide this timeless world into understandable miniscule pieces. No mean task. But I can’t help questioning why one second stands for a particular piece of time, and why one minute is so and an hour so… I end up groping in the dark…

Thankfully, people have their own way of measuring time something on the lines of IST (Indian Standard Time) that we Indians love to joke about. Of the different standard time frames that I have seen or observed, I can distinctly classify a few: women have different ST for cooking, getting dressed, sulking, arriving at a particular place (they can customize even time to suit their purpose) marketing and sales folks never fail to extend a minute to an hour (they strongly believe that punctuality is the virtue of useless and lazy people who don’t mind arriving early and waiting endlessly for people to arrive); for kids/adolescents the study time is inversely proportional to play time or vice versa…I have purposely omitted the ST applicable to celebrities, VIPs and VVIPs because they belong to an alien world, at least where I am concerned.

After watching how commoners deal so well with time – quantifying it, cutting and adding to it as and when needed, I realized I had to do the same to stop boggling my mind with the big question – what is time and who decided how it should be measured?.

I have always associated time with what it has done to me. So, what I have are concepts of Time as the Healer, the Vanquisher, the Conqueror, the Devourer, the Irreverent, the Magnifier and all this adding up to Time, the Teacher. Clichéd concepts but they are the many truths of my life and put my mind to rest every night.

Time has served as a healer at every stage of my life though I realized this from hindsight. Be it when I was all of eight and grappling with the death of a very dear cousin. Or the time when I flunked, lost my first love, felt betrayed by friends, felt let down by family, and even now as I deal with some light and tight blows in my personal life… all along Time has been a cruel watcher counting my each fall with sadistic deliberation. But Time was just playing its role to the hilt… healing by being the tincture.

Time, the Vanquisher changed me from an introverted child who couldn’t and wouldn’t converse even with her siblings to an adolescent who could rattle off with family and friends or just stand up and speak her mind… it was unimaginable at a time but today nobody believes that I was a chronic introvert! That’s the power of time… it can defeat even deep-set beliefs. If this is the positive side, there have been times when I was walled up against Time and whatever I did the wall never gave in. I think these are universal experiences…

Well, Time as the conqueror too has been double-faced: smiling down on me sometimes or burning down on me. If it has conquered fears and bad times, it has also invaded serenity and peace time and again, and destroyed cozy comfort zones. It has conquered and altered the old selves unrecognizably in some cases leaving me confused… In this sense, I acknowledge its devouring side.

During desperate and helpless times, I have hated Time imagining him (ya wickedness has a gender) to be this mean guy who has powers, is well aware of it and loves to play vicious games just for thrills oblivious to the consequence it has on mere mortals. I have seen how glory, reputation and appeal have fallen hopelessly while he looks irreverently and full of himself… What pride!

Coming to think seriously, I think the ‘goodness’ of good times is measured largely in comparison to the ‘badness’ of the bad times. Ya, with its powers, Time forces us to kneel down and accept that to a large extent we are writers of our own destiny reminding us how good and bad sprout from our own deeds, which we may have chosen to forget. Time is a true teacher – teaching, rewarding, punishing, cajoling, encouraging, molding and leading us inch by inch towards a self-actualizing state.

I believe

I am conditioned to think of R Kelly's song 'I believe I can fly'... and yes this is the last installment of the trilogy. Belief is such a big term... I don't know how to dissect it with the minimum experience and worldly gyan that I possess... hmmmm

You know, I can't help putting this down here... before my second innings - the resurrection of my almost-dead blog.. I believed that I couldn't write when I was happy... because I was so busy feeling happy and rejoicing - ya something like I was greedily hoarding all I could and I expressed it through active emotions - like a good laugh, my ear-to-ear grin, by being generous to the power of infinity, etc..
I didn't feel the need to write (which was a passive expression)... I have carried this belief for the last 10 years at least...
The converse also holds true... when I felt let down or sad.. words miraculously flowed from the tip of my pen and my mouth would be shut (it was a relief to many that my motor mouth was shut for a change... albeit short-lived pleasure ;-) )... I coloured the world in gloomy shades and was happy concentrating on the troubles that the indifferent world had piled on me...

The fact that the first two parts of the trilogy are so strong on negative emotions speaks a lot about my belief... I truly don't know where to stop when I digress

Coming back to beliefs... I am a strong believer in positives... And I believe that all complications are a result of our own procrastination to clean up the mess... we humans love complications na... simplicity is just not happening enough ya... In spite of my aggressive take on the losers (ya i have clubbed the fatalist, determinists, sadists, masochists, etc) I still believe we have a chance...

I have to quote Richard Bach (Messiah's Handbook) "Everything is exactly as it is for a reason. The crumb on your table is no mystical reminder of this morning's cookie, it is there because you have chosen not to remove it."

Perfect. It cant get better than this. Sums up what I believe now... You know I learnt a lot from a 'wise man' I met and then when I read Bach... I thought well... I am happy believed him...

Belief is such a strong emotion that a moment of insight can change years of dirt we have collected... it can reform (both for good and bad)... How I wish our growing up would mean that we believed in a better tomorrow... which obviously would stem from a sound past and a steady today... God! am I sounding confused.. well I am...

Coming to another tug of war going in my mind... I am convinced and I believe are they the same thing? I wonder...

I hate...

I had to put this down immediately... One thing that I absolutely hate about people is the way they treat their lives - as if its just a mere bloody existence. I just recollect faintly that saying that goes ' if u wanna know the value of a second ask a ...'. I dont remember the saying but I do remember it reinstated the truth that we should value our stay on this earth and yes its a bonus if we can make it worthwhile...

I have major problems with these bloody fatalists (dont really know if there's such a term - but for me it means a bloody good-for-nothing being who proves to be fatal to his/her own life)... yuck! the thought irrtates me beyond limits...
And the moronic determinists who believe that nothing can be changed... forgodssake! Man I wish I could just kidnap them... go to internet options in them and clear their previous history, pages saved and ofcourse the 'cookies' ... and give them a new perspective.. or probably just pinch them hard and tell them to get a life...

You know these cowards like resting in the cocoon so that they don't have to shoulder the reproach for a life led miserably... Trust me, I have felt the need to just stop being ...to just give up... to stop breathing... to die anonymously (secretly wishing that I could see how many people would shed tears... I know thats typical but thats me)... but one look at the world outside gives me n number of reasons to live ... live well....

The other day I had to visit and be with an uncle who was admitted in Tata Memorial Cancer hospital for a minor surgery... After dealing with our share of apprehensions and worries (we were lucky), I looked out and saw this our kinda middleclass man... carrying his five year old kid... who had bald patches... I just looked and the kid smiled... I didnt read anything into it then... I was having one of my 'how-can-you-do-that?' talks with gods... they seemed to listen silently... I got their answer - again a tough one to deal with answer but absolutely clear in its message...

On my way back, I was in an overflowing compartment in the train... I felt claustrophobic with the many blank stares and iron-maiden composure... bloody hell! I thought this was living... the kid was more alive because though its life was cut short by time limit it had moments... and here were people existing in their everyday worries - strongly believing that the word had gone to the dogs and that life was so tough aand what not - ofcourse with your maid taking a day off, you getting late to work, your son scoring just 82%, and growing inflations...
So these were living a worm-like existence... hardly enjoying the rhythm of every second of the clock, oblivious to how the setting sun is not just about time being 6.30pm but how the sky wears different hues - sky blue to deep blue and then a spill of crimson.. darkening further and giving a fiery look to the sky before melting smoothly into the approaching night....

Ya, I know one more of my philosphy 'jhaading' session... Can't help it. Hate to see life being wasted...