What I like about 'Yuva'

I saw this movie long back. Most of my friends weren't impressed. But me and my roommate were pretty excited that India still had directors who made movies with real, identifiable conflicts. That night, the both of us forcibly argued that technique, plot, characters apart - Indian cinema had to primarily deal with good, original conflicts that reflected our collective aspirations. Reading Satish's post on OG, I was reminded of this movie and article that I wrote on the same night.

The true purpose of art, I read (of all places, in a comprehensive and delightfully discursive glossary of literary terms!), is to free ourselves from the deadening effects of habit. I’ve known (and been saying) this for some time, but not in those very words. I remember having watched a dull and pretentious sitcom, solely because, one of the characters had intoned at the beginning, “A good book is like an axe for the frozen sea in each of us”. That, I smugly pointed to a friend, is a Kafka quote that I’d taken time to internalize, the moment I’d read it. Long story short, this is what I consider good art. Any book, movie, music, painting or even a conversation, should make you suddenly aware of things you’ve mentally pushed to the periphery over time and shock you into action by focusing on their patent centrality.

It’s been a while since I’ve watched a good movie. I haven’t watched them but their very, too-perfect-to-be-perfect spiel has made me Bored of the Rings. And I also think that precocious kids, magic wands and airborne brooms are the worst thing to happen to movies since the advent of automatic conflict creation software for script writing! Consequently, I’ve been on a self-imposed exile from theatres and frankly, I don’t miss this movieland. It is in this detached state of comfortable numbness, that I watched the new Bollywood flick - Yuva. A movie that successfully impelled me to act and spout this piece of effluvia, at two in the night, thanks to a grande sized container-ful of caffeine coursing through my veins.

Let me play the director here and use a wide angle lens to pan around and show you the big picture. India is on the verge of a monumental transformation. The reasons be what they are, there is a perceptible reformation underway - of our identities and attitudes. Our movies, culture, economy, apparel, politics, religion, cricket, sex lives, loves, cities, villages, lifestyles, dreams and aspirations, are all being redefined by this process. It’s a makeover of gigantic proportions and predictably, we are anxious. For instance, what kind of an idea will our movies be, in years to come?

Ram Gopal Varma (with his Factory of film makers), is undoubtedly, the self-ordained Surgeon General of this movie makeover. And given his threat of releasing a new film every Friday, we have reasons to be concerned. He and his devoted are hell bent on aping the west. He himself said so in as many (and some more unprintable) words in a recent interview to the Time magazine. His preoccupation with sound scripts and technique, I fear, has deprived his movies of their very soul. The conflicts driving his movies are uninspired and are weak adaptations of Hollywood blockbusters. At the core of these concerns is the question of originality. What inspires him to make his movies? When asked the same question, Manoj Night Shyamalan pointed out that the conflicts in his movies are something a ten year old and even a ninety year old can relate to. ‘Signs’ was about faith. Do you believe in miracles or is everything just a co-incidence? ‘Unbreakable’ was about finding one’s true vocation. Ram Gopal Varma’s pipeline of uninspired movies suggests that, very unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to be realizing the enormity of the Faustian deal he’s making.

The others assisting him in this operation are the Rahul Bose – Pritish Nandy combo, clones. These neophytes, who compound their misplaced aspirations with an utter lack of abilities, are being mistakenly hailed as the new face of Indian cinema. This makeover couldn’t have gotten uglier. A forty year old man trying to lose his virginity and a garage band trying to make it big are their pathetic and superficial attempts at identifying conflicts worth making a movie about.

And at the lowest rung are the veterans of Hindi movie making, whose feeble attempts at coming to terms with the changing times are patch-work movies like ‘Hero’ (A Spy’s Love Story). India too has a James Bond, they tell us; sadly, they still think that he’s a wimpy virgin.

Our very identities are being gradually hijacked by western sensibilities and it is important to realize the consequences. For, it is we, who are making the choice. Recently, I watched a short segment called, “Let’s watch Tele Mundo”, on the David Letterman show. I was horrified to see a bunch of Mexicans indulging in unrestrained mudslinging and muckraking in a court room show a la their popular proto- Judge Judy (or Amy or Sue-Me or Whatever) in US. I was appalled to see this cheap imitation of quintessential, American TV trash getting primetime airspace on a Mexican channel and found myself, silently but ardently, praying and hoping, that there would never be a Judge Shukla or a Judge Gupta show in India!

It is in such times, that we answer a question that Rushdie has repeatedly asked, “What kind of an idea are you”? Are we irreverent enough to stubbornly believe in ourselves? What are the real issues that stir us to action? What are our true dreams, hopes and visions? Do we have the courage to articulate them? And are we obstinate enough to pursue them? It is only when we honestly succeed in answering these questions that our movies will reflect our collective identities and aspirations.

The new Mani Ratnam movie Yuva, gives all the right answers to the above questions. And that is what I like about Yuva.

How to form a government in India

The recent assembly election results from Jharkhand and Bihar have caught the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) and its constituents (Congress party, Shibu Soren’s Jharkhand Mukthi Morcha (JMM) in Jharkhand and Laloo Prasad Yadav’s Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) in Bihar) completely unawares. Laloo Prasad Yadav, who was actually napping when the results were being announced, didn’t speak to the media until the next day. Later, he complained that it was a “rude wake-up call” and sheepishly confessed that he couldn’t watch the live election results on TV, since though he was the head of the house it was actually Rabri who handled the remote-control.

The UPA soon convened a closed-door meeting of senior party leaders where Shibu Soren blamed the “many cooks who butted in with suggestions and advice and spoiled the UPA’s broth”. He also claimed that the only person capable of single-handedly cooking the UPA’s broth was Sonia Gandhi (she had once famoulsy whipped up a bucketful of tamatar ka shorba by just adding water to a bottleful of Barilla’s pasta sauce). The various party leaders then unanimously resolved to henceforth leave all important decisions to Sonia Gandhi to effectively counter the “communal forces”. Sonia Gandhi, who was visibly moved at the spontaneous outpouring of mass sycophancy, assured them that she would make a few calls and ensure that “no one ever spoke against the family”.

A few day-time, long-distance minutes later, in an unprecedented move, the Governor of Jharkhand - Syed Sibtey Razi, refused to invite the single largest pre-poll alliance or the single largest political party to form the government. Speaking at Raj Bhavan, he declared that his primary goal instead was to form a government “that is stable”. The media and many political parties (including National Democratic Alliance (NDA) which had a majority) consequently agonized for long hours as to what exactly “stable” meant. Meanwhile, the UPA deputed Laloo Prasad Yadav, who had valuable experience in maintaining a stable back home in Bihar, to explore ways of forming a government in Jharkhand. Immediately on his arrival, Laloo demonstrated his considerable prowess in trading in horses and other farm animals and soon built a fine stable in Jharkhand too. By the end of the day, he had successfully persuaded several independent candidates, including the JMM rebel - Stephen Marandi, to help the UPA to form a “stable” government.

Stephen Marandi had earlier quit JMM and successfully campaigned in Jharkhand as an Independent “against the nepotism and corruption in Shibu Soren’s JMM”. Speaking to the local press, he explained his volte-face as a selfless effort to thwart "the communal forces from uprooting secularism in Jharkhand”.

The next day, the Governor of Jharkhand, brazenly re-declared that “arithmetic was not important” and carried forward his threat of forming a “stable” government when he swore-in Shibu Soren of JMM as the Chief Minister of Jharkhand. In an effort to dismiss widespread criticism and charges of gubernatorial delinquency, the Governor sought to defend his decision by taking the issue to the masses’ favorite media. In an interview with Stardust magazine, when pointed out that the UPA clearly didn’t have the numbers to constitute a majority, he said that he was “never interested in the 'numbers game' and just wanted to do some good work”. Speaking about his relationship with the Congress president, he revealed that when the whole polity had ignored him, it was Sonia who had given him his first break. “Sonia is just like family”, he said and promptly added, “I would gladly sign any of her memos even without reading their italicized script”.

In the following days, the Congress soon realized that it had landed itself in a soup thicker than Barilla’s pasta sauce. Shibu Soren’s “stable” government lasted exactly seven days when he was forced to resign before the vote of confidence in the Jharkhand assembly. Meanwhile, in Bihar, Ram Vilas Paswan refused to let his Lok Janshakthi Party (LJP) support Laloo Prasad Yadav’s RJD in forming a government. The Congress had already sent a letter to the Bihar Governor pledging its support of 10 MPs (and one additional CPI (M) MP thrown in good faith) to Laloo Prasad Yadav’s RJD. At the same time, it was being rumoured that Nitish Kumar of Janata Dal United (JD (U)) was in talks with Ram Vilas Paswan and others "to form a government with non-RJD parties in Bihar". This was particularly troublesome for Congress, since both Ram Vilas Paswan and Laloo Prasad Yadav were important members of the UPA government at the centre. Thus, the Congress was in real danger of losing power at both the states and the centre to "communal forces".

Soon, Sonia Gandhi called an “emergency” meeting of the senior members of her coterie and disassociated herself from the current state of affairs. The party’s media managers and spin-meisters were cornered into describing it as an “unfortunate series” of “unintended events” over which the party “high command” had absolutely “no control”. Even as the Congress spokesman - Jaipal Reddy, was shouting himself hoarse putting this spin to the media, some Congress party workers burnt the effigy of Nitish Kumar of JD(U) (which is also a member of BJP’s NDA) in Bihar for aligning with the “communal forces”. Unfortunately, mistaking the ‘bearded effigy’ for Ram Vilas Paswan, the LJP’s cadre promptly burnt Sonia Gandhi’s effigy in serial retaliation. The unintended events further fractured the UPA’s tenuous coalition at the centre. Sonia, fearing loss of all control over the party, expressed her great disappointment with the irresponsible actions of the party workers and immediately but gently reminded them that no effigies, puppets or dummies could be burnt or even made Prime Minister without her express approval.

How to cover the fashions at the Oscars

The popularity of the fashions at the Oscars prompted ABC to completely revamp its red carpet coverage this year. Showcasing patent-pending American ingenuity, it copied the best elements of other unrelated shows and created a hybridized approach. In an inspired move, it roped in its favorite Monday night football commentator, an instant Internet pollster from its national news channel and an underpaid fashion expert from one of its makeover shows, to cover the fashions at the Oscars.

As each nominee appeared on the red-carpet, the football commentator highlighted various areas of their dresses and bodies with his ‘electronic chalk marker’. For example, the viewer’s attention was drawn towards the loose fit in the bust region of an actress by drawing two circles in the area of interest. Also, as Oprah walked in, free-hand arcs were drawn in the waist region to highlight the bursting seams of her dress. Oprah later claimed that the camera had added at least ten pounds to her image and that there were at least ten cameras on her at that instant.

The Internet pollster provided instant poll results on the popularity of various dresses. The belle of the ball, Million Dollar Baby - Hillary Swank, who appeared in a stunning, back-baring, Prussian blue number, received a high 9.6 while Oprah dismissed her own low rating by complaining that many of her fans didn’t really watch Oscars… because she wasn’t really an actress and also because she had no fans. Many viewers were consequently left wondering what exactly she was doing on the red carpet.

Earlier in the day, Oprah had been spotted effortlessly fawning and selflessly ingratiating herself with every actor and actress on the red carpet (because she really wanted every nominee to win an Oscar) and hence received more screen-time than the nominees themselves. Finding herself next to a television crew on the red carpet, she deftly drew attention to herself by exclaiming, “What a dress! What a back! What a body! What low fat-to-muscle ratio! What lats! What pecs…”, though it wasn’t clear whether she was trying to suck up to Hilary Swank or Jamie Fox.

The fashion expert had a busy day. He began by repeatedly thanking God “for making Hilary Swank wear that dress” and readily claimed that she deserved an Oscar for the dress itself. He then quickly identified the important emerging fashion trends - the color blue, wavy Grecian hairdos, million dollar bling-blings and back baring ensembles and remarked that unlike the previous year, pregnancy wear no longer seemed to be in vogue. Among other comments, he said that Penelope Cruz’s giant peach bowed dress made her look like a prom-going-teenager from the eighties and that Vanessa Bauche’s hairdo made her look like a bingo-playing-grandma from the same decade. Rene Zellweger, thanks to her red camouflage outfit on the red carpet, escaped the commentator’s uncompromising scrutiny.

Even as the fashion expert concluded that the men hadn’t experimented too much and stuck to their black Tuxedos and well-polished black shoes, Sean P Diddy Combs (it wasn’t immediately clear who had invited him) ambushed a reporter and revealed to him that he had personally dressed Chris Rock. Seeing the shocked expression on the reporter’s face, he clarified that he had only designed the outfit and that Chris had actually worn the dress by himself. P. Diddy, who spends all his day coining new nick names for himself, said that he had taken time off his busy schedule and turned designer to “bridge the gap between men’s and women’s fashion”. ”It is not fair that women get to wear all the bling-bling”, he stated and declared his intent to start a new bling-rich watch line for men. To further substantiate his intent, he showed the reporter a brand new “Rollex” watch that he had smuggled himself and discreetly offered to sell it to the reporter for a small sum. Before leaving, as an up-and-coming designer he outlined his vision for men’s fashion at the next year’s Oscar show and predicted that “deep v-necks and very low and open backs” would be a big hit with men too.

Rebel star Johnny Depp maintained his image of being a fashion outlaw by appearing in neo-pirate-wear replete with a goatee and golden teeth. Because Johnny doesn’t play the same character twice and because he had already acted in one pirate movie, there was much speculation regarding the golden teeth. Some claimed that he had been signed up as the next Austin Powers, and in keeping with the integrity and the preparation that he brings to all of his characters, he had just not brushed or flossed in weeks. But, since Johnny was anyway a notorious introvert, there was general relief that he would at least mercifully keep his mouth shut.

Later in the night, visibly pleased with the success of their Oscar fashions coverage, the producer said that they would try harder to copy random elements from other shows to improve the presentation the next year. Off the camera but still on the microphone, he told a reporter that negotiations were on with Simon from the American Idol to be a commentator who would occasionally heckle the actresses by calling them drag queens. He also revealed that rotating 360 degree before-and-after the makeup images of all actresses and actors and strategically placed miniature cameras for close-up bust visions were some of the other enhancements already under consideration.

Original or virginal

Cult of authenticity

Vikram Chandra's rhetoric is not convincing, though he had his share of words. A few points:
There are three kinds of people here: First, the Indian English authors abroad who are clearly Mukherjee's target. Second, Indian English writers living in Indian urbana, like Chandra. And finally, the U.R. Ananthamurthy's and Bendre's (sorry, unfamiliar with vernacular literature outside Karnataka).

While Chandra tries to makes a case that the Indian authors in urban Indian settings are as isolated from true-India i.e. Bommanahalli's and Chapra Jilla's, he barely addresses the original question -- Are these authors truly the socio-cultural emissaries of India or are they their own ambassadors? Currently it seems like these authors are serving the following people at best -- themselves (I am inclined to repeat this thrice -- no seriously, if anything, some of them have dextrously carved out a large piece of the global literature pie) and the NRI crowd that wants a Gurinder Chadha-esque depiction of India so they are not viewed as just another immigrant community von third world -- please, definitely not with India's rich maharaja culture!

A major issue with Indian English authors has been ignored by the article: the English itself. While everyone knows how pervasive English is in Indian societies, it is completely a different language than one spoken in Britain or the US. The profound influences of the colonial usages combined with vernacular turns of phrases make it a language like nothing the Western world has heard. Read the blogs written by current IITians IITian blog links and it is clear that this dialect is thriving and evolving in all sections of society. Hardly any Indian English author has tried to capture this, save, perhaps, Desani and his Hatterr (that was in the 40's though!). Indian authors in English grow up on a wealth of Western literature and the styles are often imitative and in someone else's language. Any writer makes a commitment to a style and, more often than not, Indian writers make that commitment to one that is alien to even urban Indians.

Going back to the mainstay of Chandra's argument, on a very practical level, Indian authors sitting even in South Bombay are clearly more in touch with Indian happenings than ones in NY and London. A truly good writer, while smoking his cigars with socialites by night, clearly, cannot miss the walk down the street or the occasional drive down to interior Maharashtra. In a nutshell, he is literally much closer! Readers will associate with the difference between visiting their hometowns once or twice a year from abroad to living in their hometowns. For the same reason that people take vacations, the interface the country offers you is simply different when you are an NRI. Moreover, the writings of NRI's cut off from India for a decade speak for themselves -- dated, retrograde and, at best, nostalgic. Case in point: Rushdie's musings on Sonia Gandhi post-election.

There's no doubt that the thought that haunts you by the end of the article is, in fact, Mukherjee's point about koel's and tamarind trees. That is what the mediocre ones are doing for western audiences anyway. As for the celebrated literateurs, their literary contributions are far more important than their socio-cultural representation of India.

Hubris of the Chatteratti

Check out this article --- Cervantes vs Einstein

I have heard/read this type of argument more times than I care to remember - Schopenhauer, anybody ? ("Science can get along with talent but art requires genius")

So these humanities types think they're better than us math/science types. You know, just because they have a way with words. You know, because they can talk. And write newspaper articles to put down things they don't understand.

You know,.... where would we be without art ? Ans : We would die. Simon Jerkins-or-whatever claims he wouldn't be able to live without Quixote. Sad bloke! Sadder still that he has never felt the thrill of creative scientific work.

So if Einstein hadn't come along someone else would have constructed his theories ? Sure, but the same argument holds for Cervantes too. Of course it is unlikely that Quixote would be re-created verbatim but (as long as we're being pedantic) the same thing holds for Einstein's papers.

If only this Jerkins would take the time to understand math (just like we **bleeps** took the time to understand Cervantes) ... you know, at least so he can form an informed opinion about their relative importance or indeed decide if such a comparison is possible or meaningful or worthwhile.

Remind me to write sometime about another pituitary case - William "poets are the natural legislators of mankind" Wordsworth.

I'm feeling not-so-lucky

Recently, a week back, I added a piece of javascript code to the blog template, to function as a "stealth mode blog patrol". I was curious to see who was visiting the blog, from where, how often and in other irrelevant surveillance related statistics.

One of the things logged by this code is the exact "search terms" (all used at Google) that lead a user to one of the entries in this blog. So, fellow (ex-)poseurs and voyeurs, here are the top four (why four? because the blog had only four hits from Google) search terms that led unsuspecting surfers to our shores.

At number 4 - Psychological Narcosis
At number 3 - "Village Schoolmaster" "Oliver Goldsmith"
( For those in the audience keeping count, that's two hits to my blog entry and zero to the rest!)
At number 2 - Konkona Koko
And the number 1 search term at Google that led users to our blog is (drum roll please) - Tushy Massage Explain!

With its current price of $180 a share, something tells me that the Google stock is soon going to be a cause for acute pain in the tushy for all its shareholders. And then of course, we'll get more hits!

ps: No, I don't have time to kill and yes, you can skip this without any loss of continuity. I just thought that there should be some tool out there to do this kind of dynamic visualization tracing user's paths as they surf the web. It decidedly serves no purpose. Even then -

The web is an ocean of information. Scattered across this ocean are websites of varying pagerank. Web sites like Google and Yahoo (with pagerank = 1) are at the center of this ocean. As you move away from the center, you find web sites of lesser pagerank. And at the very periphery are websites with zero pagerank like this blog. Google, with its whirling index server farms and search query processors is like a giant inverse-whirlpool at the very center of this ocean not sucking in but spewing out visiting surfers in all directions to distant shores they've never been to. Now, if only someone could animate this thing and link it up live to Google webservers...

This Day That Age

Date: Wed, 26 Jan 2005 13:58:26 -0600
Subject: its that time of the year
Half a dozen years ago, you didn't have to be told what time of the year this is...

Besides the Crossword, the occasional Art Buchwald column and the half-page MRF tyres advertisement, in the last page of The Hindu is a daily feature titled This Day That Age. It's a small column reproducing verbatim The Hindu's articles from the same day but an earlier age. I thought I would do something similar, dig through my memory, carefully sift and clean the remains I stumble on, glue them together and give you a peek into that age on this day. But...

R.K.Laxman, in the foreword of one of his books, once wrote about the "timelessness" of his cartoons. He claimed that "things had hardly changed with time" and that he could safely reproduce any of his older cartoons from the book, in the day's newspaper and that the reader would hardly notice anything amiss. Today, as I began to write, I realised that "things had hardly changed with time" and that I could safely reproduce any of the newer articles from the newsletter, in the day's blog and that the reader would hardly notice anything amiss!

OK, wipe that smirk, most bloggers cog from others and they are even getting awards for the same. At least, I took the trouble of cooking up a reason. And even Conan does it - "I saw this segment on Jay Leno and thought to myself, why not just rip it off, baby". So, here's a little something, ripped off in toto, and you tell me if things have changed!

Philosophy Section: The Memoirs of Casonovix

Cosmopolitan gives you details on how to get a soul mate. Here, in the newsletter, we aren't going to aim that high. I mean, if you really want a quality, meaningful relationship or some crap like that, you can always have one vicariously through watching America's Sweethearts. And then saying 'how sweet' whenever John Cusack makes an ass of himself. And after that, maybe you'd like to eat lots of chocolate ice cream in your pajamas and keep talking about how you're waiting for 'The One'. But if you do that, you won't really get anywhere with women (you shouldn't, if life's fair). And you'd probably have freaked out all your guy friends, so you'll die a depressing, lonely death. So looking for life partners isn't really such a good idea. Take that, stupid Cosmo writers.

No, hitting meaninglessly on random women is definitely the way to go. And that's what we'll teach you how to do here.

I guess that at this point, you'd have guessed that the target audience for this article is pretty specific. Specifically, male. This is because a) Only guys would be stupid enough to read a dumbass article like this one; b) I have no idea what women want to read; and c) Do women really need to actually go out and hit on guys?

Anyway, now that that's done, we get down to specifics.

First and I cannot stress this enough, do NOT wear one of those stupid insti T-shirts. Most guys are probably going to bring the fact that they're from IIT into any conversation some twenty times a minute. Loudly proclaiming it on your clothes isn't gonna help much. And plus, even if you're dumb enough to think otherwise, the stuff written on them isn't really witty or anything. Come on, the guys who wrote it did it for a lousy free T-shirt.

Second, pick the time well. No one wants to flirt with you if they're rushing to catch an event, or if they're tired and sleepy after a pro show, or if their hair is on fire. Keep that in mind.

One thing that's sure to work - go up and ask for the time. Then, when you get the time, ask her if she's sure. Then ask her when some event is scheduled. Then ask her if she's sure about the time again. At this point, she'll laugh out loud thinking you're the stupidest person to walk the earth, and live off this anecdote at dinner parties for the rest of her life. Now, the thing is, even though you've totally struck out with her and she thinks you're a complete idiot, your friends ten feet away won't know that. Just tell them that she laughed at your classy humor, and you can get the hundred bucks or whatever some guy there bet you. And hey, a hundred bucks is a hundred bucks. People work for hours to make that much.

This one, I think, should be pretty obvious, but surprisingly, very few guys get it. Going to the dance workshop to learn the jive or the salsa is ok. But don't really expect to cash there, unless you're at least kind of graceful. Or, you have Hugh Grant's self deprecatory charm. And his good looks. And his sexy blue eyes. And his British accent.

That's pretty much it in the self-help section of the newsletter. I know it's not much, but if you're really looking for pointers in the random speculations of some guys in a lousy rag no one really reads, then you're beyond help and I'm not going to waste my time on you. Anyway, in a place where talking to anything that looks vaguely feminine is taken as a huge sexual conquest, and getting any kind of response, even a monosyllabic grunt, means that you're Don Juan (God rest his soul) resurrected from his grave, it can't really be that difficult. Best of luck.

And by the way, never forget the power of lying - to yourself about your chances, to women about yourself, and to your friends about the women.