GURU : A review

GURU is the story of one man who dared to dream, and dream big. Through and through its a celebration of the human ego, the perception of being intensely alive and intensely aware of the fact that we just cannot stop at one point of time and tell ourselves, "this is enough, this is what I had bargained for, nothing more and nothing less", for there is no limit for more.

This is probably the first time that an Indian movie has dared to move away from the beaten track of "love and truth and the ultimate victory of both". The fact that neither love nor truth form an indispensible part of our everyday existence is underlined time and again in GURU. For a change we have been able to bridge the gap between idealism and realism through GURU, and the film is commendable for that bare fact, if nothing else. Another aspect of the film is the sublte yet positive treatment of capitalism. In the present scenario where we can see a steady decline in the communist sentiments all across the world and more so in India, perhaps this emphasis on the ultimate importance of profit could not have been timed better. Munafa is all that matters and thats exactly what has been pointed out. Even though the moral issues have been slightly undermined, I can only recall what Mario Puzo quoted in the beginning of his magnum opus, The Godfather, "Behind every Great fortune, there a Great Crime"- Balzac.

Coming to the film itself, this is definitely the comeback vehicle for Abhishek Bachchan, even though some people claim Sarkar to be the the movie that turned him around, we have to understand that after Yuva this is the first movie where he hasn't shared screen space with his dad and still delivered a powerhouse performance. Definitely the big B's pride is not un called for. In Abhishek's portrayal of Gurubhai, one could see the emergence of one of the most prolific and resourceful actors of the present day. We can only hope that this is just the beginning of a long and entertaining career. Aishwarya Rai is brilliant in her role as the wife of a business tycoon, rising above the normal cravings of a lower middle class woman to fulfill the needs of her dreaming husband. Mithun Chakraborty, Vidhya Balan and Madhavan did their bits convincingly, but every bit of brilliant acting complemented each other and made the experience really enriching. No mention needs be made of Rahman's music. Its brilliant, but then thats routine. His consistency is enviable, though there is a scarcity of humable tunes in this particular album. The cinematography is also crisp and a treat for the eyes.

Though there are traces of movies like The Godfather (Gurubhai keeps making "offers they can't refuse" and keeps talking to "reasonable men"), The Fountainhead (During the final discourse in the courtroom, I couldn't help seeing glimpses of Howard Roark) and A walk to remember (The poignant story of Maddy and Vidya Balan) in GURU, at the end of the day... its a winner in all the departments, bold theme, powerful acting and the Hallmark of Mani Ratnam's Direction.

A must watch.

Bike... Finally!

That's what my Bike looks like... I am really sorry about the background though.

End of days

Another year comes to an end. Definitely the most eventful one in life till date. Lots of people have come and gone, lots of places have been visited. I have travelled to almost all the corners of the country during the Internship and training periods. Bangalore, Vadodara, Mumbai, Agra, Delhi, Mathura and Pilani. That makes it a little of east, west, north and south of the country.

I have gone through periods of extreme loneliness and isolation, mental turmoil and I have moved from sharing one cubicle with three other people to having one of my own!

I have bought the three basic necessities of solitary living a camera, a laptop and a bike.

And I have successfully managed to push myself to the depths of self pity and come bouncing back to feeling good...

Everything put together its been a year worth remembering for all it had brought along and everything it took away.

Indulgence

Its been a really long time since I had indulged myself like this. One evening I decided to relive one of those innumerable college evenings we'd spent, watching one movie after another. This time however, I had to limit my indulgence to one movie, I chose Khosla ka Ghosla as I hadn't seen it till date and people who'd seen it had a nice thing or two, to say about it. Therefore I decided to rent out the CD, buy some Bhujia and a bar of chocolate ( the kid inside is still painfully alive :P)

I had an early dinner, just like the BITS days and then snuggled under my razai with the computer on my lap, the packets of bhujia on one side of my bed and the munching on the chocolate, I commanded my indulgent self, "Let the movie begin!"

What followed was a watered down version of Jeffrey Archer's Not a penny more, not a penny less, brilliantly Indianised. But now a days, you don't need to do much to Indianise anything, do you? Add a couple of cut shots of the busy and filthy streets, a plan view of a dilapidated Slum area, the typical Indian dream of going abroad, the dad opposed to the idea in principle, the tearful mother and the very familiar helpful neighbours. The formula just cannot backfire. In each of these six elements there's something that each Indian identifies with and therefore all the director has to do is to integrate these elements seamlessly into a story and voila! Even some of the European Classics can be used to portray the Indian Household!

But I shouldn't prevaricate, I would grade the movie at three and a half stars. The performances of Boman Irani and Anupam Kher are commendable, its always a joy to watch these people on the screen. Sometimes you have to accept that the best actors come straight from the theatre.

Ranvir Shorey was brilliant with his accent, not for a moment did it seem that the guy was acting. Everyone else was mediocre, in this regard, a special mention has to be made of Tara Sharma, someone needs to put a knob in her throat to regulate her volume with respect to the dialogue she's delivering.

However, by the time the movie got over, I was happy with the choice of movie. Light hearted comedy with a nice ending. The eprfect choice for stress free viewing.

To Chitra and Arun...

Sometime in March,2004: Two students were sitting in a public car parking outside the grand hyatt at the Bikaji Kama Place in South Delhi and proof reading a sheaf of pages which happened to be the first daft of Cactus Flower, 2004, official magazine of the students’ Union of BITS,Pilani. One of them turned out to be a budding playwright and the other ended up with an engineering job with one of the foremost public sector concerns of the Country.

December, 2006: Two men walked into the lobby of the posh head office of Engineers India Limited. They were on an official tour to EIL to gather some information required for some forthcoming project. Of the two men, one was a fresh graduate and new employee and the other, a veteran in engineering activities in Indian Oil Corporation.

The common string connecting these two isolated incidents is that same boy who happened to land himself an engineering job. Me.
The way life changes your outlook is really amazing. Imagine the same me sitting at a car parking today and reviewing my stress analysis files! I can’t. The place has remained the same. Just that Arun isn’t there with me sitting beside me and pointing out one error after another. People running to office, the early morning hawker selling his ware to whoever has enough time to lend him a ear. The palpable busyness of the area was almost haunting. Somehow I missed my companions of the past too much.
This one is for Chitra and Arun for having made my first Cactus Flower trip unforgettable. The memory remains.

I walk a lonely road...

I have a list of ‘nice blogs’ on the right hand side column of my weblog, there are certain characteristics about each one of these blogs that I love and I am sure I cannot achieve. the outspoken sarcasm and cynicism of Satya, Abilin’s philosophy, Kray’s free flowing amalgamation of myriad emotions and simple narrative, Sujan’s nonchalance about anything that comes his way.
They are all unique in the way they look at life and the way they assimilate each scenario they are put into. But somehow I find their reasons for maintaining a blog totally different from that of mine.
My sole purpose in having a blog was to be able to offload disturbing thoughts in an organized manner so that I can go back to them if ever the need to go back to some of them arises. I have never been a romantic of sorts, true I love certain hues of nature, like a sunset or a sunrise at a beach. I am cynical and I am emotional, but I can offload neither my cynicism nor my emotions confidently in my blog for the fear of being discovered and questioned. Of course, I have the right to remain silent ;) but somehow the idea of remaining silent was never appealing to me.

I was a friend’s place till pretty late last night. On the way back to my room, I could see the changes a job had brought about in me, previously, while in college, I hated returning to my room all alone, I enjoyed the company of people and I was disappointed if there was no one to accompany me back. Yesterday, while walking down the deserted township streets with only a few stray dogs here and there, I had almost accepted the loneliness. I didn’t feel the urge for company neither did I think it was weird to have to walk back all the way alone. Somehow, the idea of being alone has totally been accepted by the subconscious.
And therefore, I walk alone. But this time there’s no fear, for I have figured out my path. The loneliness has been countered; I have successfully devised a mechanism.
I am not afraid of being alone anymore. I have grown beyond the realm of love and hate. I have learnt better than craving for unwelcome companionship. I am ready to face the world all alone till its time. The worst that can happen is that the time might not arrive, or I might just burn out before that time arrives…
Either ways, I prefer being alone.

Everyone says I am fine, but....

You Are 83% Perfectionist

You're a total perfectionist. So go ahead and congratulate yourself on a "perfect" score.The truth is, everyone is sick of living up to your standards. And you're probably even sick them yourself.

Are You a Perfectionist?

Sunday... after a long time

This was the first Sunday in my working life that truely felt like a Sunday. There were absolutely no plans to go anywhere or do anything. No fear of the dreadful alarm going off. After a late night gaming session on Saturday I turned in only at quarter to two.

It was nine in the morning before I woke up and decided to start the day. Even in hostel we had to get up in time for breakfast, but here breakfast stretches for as long as you want it to stretch. Therefore, by the time I reached the mess it was already 9:30.

A super oil-rich breakfast comprising the ubiquitous chole bhatoore awaited me along with a newspaper splashed with brilliant images of Vidya Balan and justifications as to why she's the kind of girl you can take out to a night club and and even to meet your mother. I haven't got much idea about the kind of girl I might want to take out to a nightclub (In most cases I would look forward to getting hooked to one at a night club only), but I agree with "the taking to your mother" part. Definitely... but there are a few people already in mind, Vidya Balan can wait.

I can understand the reader widening his/her eyes and condemning this blatant egoistic comment.

After breakfast, two peaceful hours were spenting in poring through the Sunday Times. Life, Horoscope and some really comical matrimonials. I am not joking, if you want to ready some really funny, grammatically minimalistic literature, Matirimonials is the place to find it! Some 45 year old woman looking for "tall, handsome, middle aged male"is just one sane example. There are so many things about the matrimonial pages that are just hilarious. Some day, with a little more time at hand, I should be able to write something about the matrimonials. ;)

Then there was lunch, right from the day I joined BITS, Sunday lunches have always remained attractive and it hasn't ceased being so even here in Mathura. The spicy chicken curry with the red gravy and shreds of onions and cubed tomatoes, the warm rotis with melted butter, the fine long grained steaming rice...mouthwatering!

This was followed by some reading in the mellow afternoon sun and a nice siesta. The persistent ringing of the mobile broke the sleep, on the other side was a long lost friend. A conversation spanning every topic we'd ever discussed, right from friends' girlfriends to drinking habits...

Evening was spent in buying a razai to defend myself against the life threatening winter. This was my first visit to a Gandhi Ashram Khadi Bhandar. In case you have a chance, go and check out the variety of stuff they make.

The mess is usually closed on a Sunday evening, we had dinner at the "most happening place" of mathura. A family restaurant called "Brijwasi Royal". The crowd was good, the food mediocre and the ambience third grade. But one really cannot complain much. After all we are at Janmabhoomi.

A winter's day...

Life has changed a lot since I updated my blog last. Much to my surprise, I have become really busy these days, not only at office, but also at home. I have a Laptop now and therefore a lot of music and movies and games have come back to life. I am trying to learn a few new softwares and update my knowledge in a few older ones. I have even managed to clean up my kitchen and make it usable. Tea, coffee and noodles are not constraints anymore.

Its getting really cold here, sometimes it reminds me of the beginning of winter in Pilani. We could never conciously enjoy the beginning of winter in Pilani because of the impending compre s, but now that I have a chance, I must say its brilliant. The chill of the morning slowly gives way to the golden warmth of a lazy sun as it creeps out of the horizon, the 5 minute bus ride on NH 2 as I come to office every morning when the little hamlet of Badhgaun awakens from a deep slumber and gets about the daily chores of a typical north Indian village. The slow ignition of coal and cow dung cakes in the black soot stained sigri giving off the familiar fumes. Cowherds coaxing their wards off to the fields, with an occasional lashing to the most disobedient one of the herd.

And the moment the bus ride gets over, I am sitting at my office in a regulated atmosphere, looking at a computer screen and rattling off lines on the monitor.

There's so much of the winter that hasn't been covered yet... But I shall be regular hence forth. By the way, here's my laptop, for those who know about my "tiger biscuit and peanuts" and "saving up for laptop" stories...

Demented...

Another one of those days when life just remains average. Everything is just 'O.K'. Nothing great, nothing exciting. Therefore....no reason to upload a throughly mundane blog of a thoroughly bored bachelor. But I still felt like hearing the clattering of the keyboard and the sentences appearing in neat arranged rows right in front of me. I had decided not to crib and try and find out the positive aspects of my "life and time" in mathura. But how long can someone keep looking for something that doesn't exist?!

There is no life in Mathura and the time spent over here can be summaried in one sentence. "It was boring." The only life that I have is that of a guy who works more than he needs to. There was a time when I used to tell people that I study for the want of something better to do. The statement remains the same, just substitute study with work. You have me again. I am slowly becoming the workaholic I didn't want to be.

Someone said , Life is beautiful. My answer, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. And the beauty just doesn't seem to show up.

Back!

I am back from what was the shortest visit home. It was a totally different feeling this time. No explanations about courses and evaluations, no need to think about the dreaded C.G.P.A., no reason to stand at the balcony and look out at the horizon and wonder what lies in store for me.

I know what lies in store for me... at least for the next couple of years.

There have been times when I have had nothing to worry about. But they are the most unsettling times . The moment there is nothing to worry about, there is a fear of stagnating. The fear drives me to think of new things to do, new avenues to explore and get worried in the process. The vicious cycle continues...

Homeward Bound

Going home had never been this mundane. I have a ticket for a train at 1:30 in the morning. I have to reach a godforsaken station somewhere in the heartlands of Uttar Pradesh by bus and I am still not sure of the route I am supposed to take. All I know is that a car will drop me off at the bus stop and I have to take a bus to Agra. The route from there is yet to be discovered.

There was a time when going home was a big thing, when I packed things 4 days in advance. I can still recall the joy of going home in the middle of my first semester. I had finished packing my bag three clear days before my train left delhi station and I had to unpack my bag several times in the middle because I had packed off stuff which I actually didn't want to take!

Four years down the line, once the bag is packed I don't have to open it up and to remove stuff packed by mistake.

Lets hope the train doesn't take too much time to reach Asansol, the one I am boarding is supposedly one of those trains which run 12 hours behind schedule as a habit. God help me.

Too tired to crib!

This place is the one I use to crib when there is no other person to crib to... but sometimes you are so down and so tired that you can't even crib.. thats exactly whats happening to me right now.. another 45 minutes and I'll be working for 12 hrs straight with exactly 35 minutes break for lunch!

I can feel the angst deep down, but I am just too bloody tired to crib...

Is this the life I had bargained for?

I have to be up and running by the time the first rays kiss the tree tops and get back to my room only by 8 in the evening. With an average of 4 hrs a days of non-sleeping free time, I don't think its worth the pain...

But again, I'm tired.

Pizza I want!

Saturday evening in a public sector company is just as sweet as Friday in a software firm.

The next day being the one day when you know that the Alarm clock won't marshall the day for you. When you can take your own sweet time to move yourself from the bed to the bathroom. When you can walk slowly in the golden winter sunshine to the mess for a long leisurely breakfast accompanied by the newspaper with the all-so-familiar accidents, manhunts and deaths being reported with wartime efficiency.

What I mean to say is that everything remains the same, just that for one day, you are allowed to slow down and adjust your bearings before flying off for another six days of early mornings and stereotype evenings.

However, this post is about the evening before the beginning of this beautiful day.

In this backward land of Mathura which according to me hasn't moved much ahead since independence, we set out in search of Pizza at a remote Shopping mall called Highway Plaza which was about 10 Kms from the Township.

Highway Plaza does justice to its name on two counts, one, its bang on the Delhi-Agra highway and two, its exactly what the dictionary meaning ("Mercantile establishment consisting of a carefully landscaped complex of shops representing leading merchandisers; usually includes restaurants and a convenient parking area; a modern version of the traditional marketplace") reccommends a plaza to be. However, after the stint in Bangalore a Mall without babes and MacD's doesn't look or sound like a mall. Therefore it took me quite some time to actually come to terms with the idea of being in a mall on a saturday night and not being able to letch!

The pizza was mediocre, but a welcome change from the typical "dal-sabzi-roti" routine.

I am still thinking though.... a mall without babes...

Mathura Mediocrity...

In Mathura after stopovers at Baroda and Mumbai. The last time I updated a Blog, I was at Bangalore, sitting in from of a PC in the corner of a shared cubicle, typing whenever I am not coding. The scenario hasn't changed much, except for the fact that now I don't share a cubicle any more (I have my own :D) and am typing whenever I find a little time... and believe me, its quite a bit difficult to find time when you are a full time employee and an "officer" at that :P With all the "Responsibility" and associated ego, you obviously wouldn't want to be caught spending valuable office time on cyberspace! Life has changed in so many different ways that I have stopped keeping track of all the changes.

I have decided to flow with the current. Resistance is futile. Just flow along and let the stream decide whether to leave you on a deserted bank or a crowded embankment. I shall very soon come up with the typical "daily routine" post. But as of now, I have to start being less cynical.

This browser sucks...

The browser in the office sucks !!! I am not allowed to upload photos or even format my text, only for blogger though. I'll have to shift my blog to some other more usable host.
Blogger still remains my first love though... shall post my new blog site once I am done setting it up.

Update: I have downloaded and installed all the required updates to make the browser usable... therefore.. I AM NOT MOVING OUT OF BLOGGER! yuhoo!!

Return of the Kafir.

This was religion to me. And i had still given it up to prove some theory to myself. The theory failed and I am back on the old battered track. I can't live without writing.I can live if i don't crib. Hence, I shall crib,I shall write and I shall give myself some decent sleep at night.
This is the beginning of the much awaited and much maligned second innings, but even though I have returned to my faith, I still remain a Kafir.
A rustic of the soil who refused to accept the gloss of the dazzling new world. I renounce the new world and dive down the depths of past glory to retrieve whatever I can. I stand convicted of indecision and condemned to the only result of such renunciation, eternal darkness.
I promise you a new faith, a faith in which i will be accepted as a founder rather than be maligned as a Kafir.
I have arrived. Again.

The lonely path ahead

He pushed back his chair, removed his spectacles, turned his neck in the two possible directions, yawned and got back to staring at the screen.
Lines of his new book were right there in front of his eyes, but he couldn't decide on the ending. He's been writing it for quite sometime now, weaving new incidents into the same plot, new characters entering and exiting his story every now and then. But the ending had always remained elusive. At times he even had nightmares about not being able to finish his book for the want of a proper ending. However, he could never think of a proper ending.
He wanted it to have a dashing end which wasn't predictable. But as they put it, he was scared of making it "predictably unpredictable". So he wrote on... every evening saw him insert new people into the story and every afternoon saw him taking them out in the light of some newly thought ending. But the quest for a better end wasn't quenched. He continued writing.Mixing his emotions with those of his characters. Giving them names, traits, failures and successes out of his own life. Living many lives through them.
But this is not what he always wanted to do, how long could he keep trying to find a new ending? It was time he went ahead and lived at least one life of his own. Not the imagined lives of his characters who could walk, run, laugh, cry and strike out in anger. But he wasn't interested.
As he pushed away from the table with the three plastic fingers of his left hand and balanced the wheel chair with the remaining ones on the right, he looked out at the tinge of red covering the horizon. The story had ended long back. The sun had set. All that remained was the path ahead... the lonely path ahead. He wasn't strong enough to make the journey on his wheelchair and he wasn't weak enough to give up all he had in form of his book, his characters, his plot, his life. Turning his wheelchair back, he started typing frantically.
There has to be a better ending...

Wanting what we don't have

What is it that you don't have ?
If its Freedom, snatch it
If its Money, earn it
If its Love, deserve it
If its Time, create it
If its Attention,demand it
and...
If its Self Respect....

Go kill yourself.

All about music...

There are so many songs attached to so many memories, people, incidents and feeling and everytime you listen to them, they seem to make those feelings, thoughts and emotions, so real!
There have been songs related to every unforgettable incident in life.
Those rainy afternoons in august when my brother had first started taking guitar lessons. He used to be very possessive about his beloved instrument and I got a chance to have a go at it only when he was asleep. Another of the the sweet sacrifices you have to make for being the older one. Hence I strummed the chords when he slept. I remember mastering a little peice called kafi ( its a raag i guess) and playing it sitting on the balcony overlooking the railway track at a little distance while it rained. The cowherds managed their cattle along the bright green fields, the trees looked much greener than otherwise and I lived those few moments of self created music , intensely.
The first few days on campus, the ragging sessions and the scary recitals of the then-famous score, Baanch ke tu rehna from the movie Company, followed by those rare occasions when we grew out of our shells and walked in groups, unafraid of any 'senior', singing Jaane kya hoga rama ra, form such a precious part of my campus memories.
Then came the golden days of graduating into Hard Rock from John Denver and Cliff Richard! The whole of second year say me humming Aerosmith, Guns n Roses, Metallica, Nirvana and lots of other bands. The hours spent in front of Gupta's computer playing Max Payne and listening to Joe Satriani, Steve Vai and Jimmy hendrix.. unforgettable!
Third year saw me return to the softer version of all music, Simon and Garfunkel came into life. On the other hand Aab na Jaa became a hot favourite with a little romanticism creeping into my
mundane life. Hmmm.. but some things are not meant to last.
Soon it was time to move on, in search of more rewarding yet less demanding relationships. Soon it was time to accept and analyse the magnitude of loneliness I was destined to get used to.
Finally it was time for Boondein by silk route: a time to understand how I have whiled away the best time of my life in some of the most inconsequential pursuits. It was time to understand the value of true friends, to draw the line between friends, aquiantances and "Hi-Bye"ers.
Farewells: the feeling took a lot of time to sink in, the fact that the dream is over. And with Save tonight and Time of your life I bid goodbye to the campus.
One fine January morning I found myself on the streets of Bangalore humming Boulevards of broken dream.
Life goes on. And every song releases an imprisoned memory or a dream. And I cherish each one.