Looking to Mohali

Ok. It’s a World Cup semi final against Pakistan. It’s not f’n war! It’s not about history or Prime Ministers or soldiers or bureaucrats.

Having said that, it’s a WORLD CUP SEMI FINAL. Against PAKISTAN.

Some points that I don’t quite know why I am trying to make:

1. To self: it’s going to be tense. Deal with it.


2. To team and fate: PLEASE, please bat first.


3. Talk rationally. Or emotionally. Or both. But don’t joke. Nothing’s funny on Wednesday, I can tell you that right now. No, not even Munaf Patel.


4. I understand that booing is part of sport. I don’t agree with it but I accept it. I cringed a few times when Ponting was booed. But that was Ricky. To Mohali: Please don’t boo the Big Green Men on Wednesday. That will not be cool.


5. I can’t watch it in a pub. Scars from 2003 remain. Also, I don’t want to watch it in a pub.


6. Don’t expect ANY work to get done.


7. I am struggling to think about the match. What is at stake and potential after-effects derail any normal thought processes that begin.


8. To Mohali: back the team. Cheer when it’s tough, not only for runs and wickets. Focus on the game.


9. Don’t. Give Up.


10. To everyone: Don’t get tense. Ignore me in point #1.

Miss, Please Can I Go To The Toilet?

Here's an intimate little piece on Dibakar Bannerjee waiting to see how the Big People With Cinematic Scissors would react to his film.

The regional chief of the Censor Board was ready to see the director and the producer. Banerjee walked up the building staircase to a charming screening room of horrors. The chief sat in the middle seat on the top row. His Censor Board colleagues included a lady in a burkha and a man in a grey-brown safari suit. Banerjee and his producer walked halfway down, between the seats, and turned to face him, like subjects would face a king.

The amazing thing is, that a filmmaker has to ask for concessions even to get his film rated 'A'. How unbelievable is that- someone has to regulate what even people who are adults can or cannot watch? I could own a farmhouse, guzzle scotch, buy tickets to watch cheerleaders shake their thang, produce frickin' babies for heavens sake. Think about it- its ok (even bloody recommended) for me to create life and be responsible for it. But I still can't decide if I want watch a movie that might be opinionated or have nudity.

Go screw yourself.

hat tip: IC

dickshit

no bullshit here :
(note the headline!)

from here (the article has since been fixed, so good I took the screenshot)

cricket porn

This, in an unexpected context, is worth a read in itself:

In most places an ODI pitch looks and behaves much the same as another: it gives up runs as easily as do porn stars their clothes.

Its so true though. All this standardizing of pitches is flattening the variety curve in cricket. It lead a frothing-at-the-mouth Jeremy Coney to recently say- during Sky’s coverage of India’s tour of Kiwi land- that the BCCI was telling all other boards in no uncertain terms to “give us the pitches we like or face the consequences, we will not tour your country!” I recall this, I must admit, only partly accurately, but the tone was at least as agitated and accusatory.

This also reminds me of the time when Indian cricket claimed that in order for it to be competitive at the international level, it needed more pitches at home that encouraged fast bowlers. Sure, but not when those pitches are used for an international game against a country that has come to India dreading those ‘sub-continental dustbowls where the ball turns square!”. I see no reason why the odd pitch in India should not be spitefully spinning, just as the odd pitch in South Africa can menacingly swing (Durban in ’96 anyone?), or the select pitch in Australia is fearfully bouncy. All of these are increasingly unlikely to be found, and it’s a darned pity.

At any rate, the pitches in india are getting frighteningly dead now, with plenty for the batsmen, sometimes a teeny bit for the fast bowlers and often nothing for the spinners; but in too many instances, boredom for the fan.

Something good from the BCCI

I’d have to say this is a good thing, and typically the kind that goes under the radar. If the money is used well and for the purposes it is set out for, some credit is due to the BCCI and Messr Pawar & co.

The BCCI and Sports Ministry have together set up a corpus of Rs 800 million
under the National Sports Development Fund (NSDF). The BCCI has contributed Rs
500 million, while the Sports Ministry has invested Rs 300 million for the same.
The fund is to be utilized to assist India’s medal prospects in boxing, archery,
swimming, judo and wrestling in their training and participation in different
international events, and procure equipment for them.

7 year itch

To borrow an oft used blog-line, this is seriously, sickly WTF.

A father, who killed his budding table tennis player son for not measuring up to his grueling standards, was sentenced to seven years in prison by a West Bengal court on Tuesday.

I mean, what. the. fug.
Isn't to screwed up enough that he killed his own son, and is obviously messed up in the head; but someone explain to me what the hell is he getting only 7 years for? No, really- go on, read the whole damn report and please convince me that he deserves only 7 years for outright murder.

an intricate glow

detail from decorations at an Indian wedding...

better on black

from flickr

what lies beneath?

Its not about wearing skirts at home and sarees in public; its not about drinking or choosing to be like Carrie or not; its not about attuning oneself to societal elements that thrust their opinions on everyone; its not about choosing modernity over roots. Its about bloody freedom, and the ability to recognise its perspectives from both sides of the barbed wire. Sagarika Ghose, wake up.

a fallacious fallacy

In this piece in Outlook, Francois Gautier sets out to say that the “deviants of Mangalore and Malegaon are demonised fallaciously”.

When blast after blast wrecks Indian markets, when trains are bombed, hotels attacked by men worse than animals, intellectuals blame it on Babri Masjid (where nobody was killed) or Gujarat (triggered by the burning of 59 innocent Hindus).But when a few Hindus plan to establish a Hindu rashtra and plot a clumsy, small-scale revenge, they are equated with deadly fundamentalists.

Just because they are few(er) in number, or their track record less inglorious, does not make them any less fundamentalist. Basking in the harsh glow of the twisted interpretation of their religion, they are a source of disgust and apprehension for open-minded, pluralistic individuals. Not to mention people who believe in the basic decency of respect for the next man, and in particular, the next woman.

[…] the word 'Hindu Talibanisation' is being heard amidst the clamour following the odious pub episode in Mangalore. […] Yet, I beg to disagree: this is not about the Talibanisation of Hindu groups, it is about their demonisation.

To say that Mangalore incident stands for a Talibanistic Hindu movement might be reaching a bit far, lets assume; but do we need only to touch such extremes to be indignant? There are increasingly loud and increasingly numerous voices that consign women to second class status. Are these to be simply explained away by so-called historical ‘demonisation’ of Hinduism? You say "Pale fires don't scorch", but is the relative paleness of an approaching flame reason enough to disregard it, or to not want to douse it?

sacred games

I finished Sacred Games yesterday, all nearly-one thousand pages of it. It is captivating, descriptive, laboriously worked out, intricately planned and yes, its long. While it did not utterly blow me away in its entirety, parts of it grab hold of you and don't let you go.

What I was struck by most were two things. There is very obviously (and very satisfyingly) a lot of hard work and research that's gone into it. While that might not be an achievement in itself (though at this scale it very well could be), it lends innumerable layers to the reading experience. Biting off chapters has an added kick when you can almost taste the places and people, smell the streets and the fear, touch grime and the inevitability.

Then, there is the grandeur of thought. There is a desire for scale and detailing, a certain greedy ambition in the writing of this book which wants to stretch out and embrace so much. Crime, sex, investigation and fanaticism, yes; but also personal histories, societal psyche, frustration, corruption, ambition, poverty, politics, hope, normalcy. And the ability/helplessness to wade through life despite it all, to accept and move on, to resign oneself and find a way around, to smile and justify everything and nothing. To find happiness- no, to find meaning in life- in spite of life itself.

aargh

I am still reeling from Ghajini. I can't quite reconcile to Aamir Khan in such a grating, mindless, hopeless piece of cinema. Throw logic to the winds, add unhealthy doses of screechy sound effects, regress in huge chunks to brain-dead 80s Bollywood. And make me pay 12 dollars for it! Bah. The villains were from some cardboards cutouts from two decades ago- bizarre imports from Tamil cinema (surely?) who couldn't act to save their fat bellies. They just had to stand around, then shout uncontrollably when attacking the hero before- quite literally- falling senseless.

The (absolutely fantastic) premise of the film- short term memory loss- was reduced to a tacky sneering one liner for the villain. We see none of the confusion, twists and mind-numbing intrigue it can provide. We aren't made to empathise (or even really see) what such an ailment could do to a revenge-obsessed man with only himself to rely on. Eventually the film ends up being almost a parody of itself, careening mindlessly from one messy act to another, till you are left wishing that the only short term memory in all of this happens to you, so you forget the last 180mins.

I'm sorry Aamir Khan, maybe its your fault that we now expect a certain kind of film from you- at least slightly intelligent. This experience, though, had nothing cerebral about it, nothing even plain smart. So damn whoever for ruining it for me and making me write such a blog post at 4am.

gay=HIV

There is something wrong here. Masking homophobic beliefs under the greater good of 'tackling HIV', and this coming from the Central Govt.

Justifying criminalisation of homosexuality in the country, the Centre has pleaded before the Delhi High that it is one of the main reasons for spread of HIV/AIDS and needs to be curbed.

at a loss

How much can you defend a city you love for obvious reasons (to yourself), when deep in your heart you know that it shames you much more often than (ever) warming your soul.

I understand there are many reasons (education-lack of it-, poverty, over population) why a lot of the things that happen in India happen. But sometimes I wonder if it is something more inherent, and we (I) am just loathe to think/accept it- that some many of my ‘countrymen’ might actually be, inexplicably, diametrically opposite to my perception of life and humanity.

Am I deluded, in my own world? Or are they?

(link in the title, courtesy blogger acting up)

Polled

After many people did not vote, and others contemplated heavily and struggled with their inner conflict to decide which way their precious opinion would swing, the desi villain poll is now closed.
in first position, inevitably, and very khush, is:
Mogambo 52.6%
and coming in a dishonourable second is
Dr Dang 26.3%

..which leaves the less mainstream (I thought as interesting) names such as Kancha Cheena
and Moosa languishing with the lesser evil of Shakaal.

Say,na

It is not my wont to write on politics, social ills and the like- at least not blog about them- but I just felt like writing on this today. the Mumbai Marine Drive rape case has been well documented and opined on, and substantially so in the blogosphere. Gut wrenching and sordid, there is little I can do to add to the tale that hasn't already been said.

But this has got me hopping mad. Bad enough they cannot get their asinine minds out of the time warp they have always been stuck in, they now have the audacity- and utter thoughtlessness(or do I mean brainlessness)- to say this about the whole case?
Where there are concerns about a hundred different things, from the girl's recovery to justice and women's safety in general, all they can think of is that the modern (progressive and thus, a blot on our tradition) woman entices the conventional (rooted in orthodoxy and thus truly 'Indian') Indian man?

And what is really unsettling, and always has been, is that these guys make their statements and there are loads of people who agree with them, salute them and support them in their crusade to take India back to a more traditional way of life (i,.e. suck all Indians into the aforementioned sick time warp).
Oh, it's pissing me off again, just writing about it.

phir kya hua, didi?

There were many things that creative communications people did not do well many many years ago when cable in India was not even the glint of fibreoptics in Murdoch's eye. Many that they probably did disastrously. But they succeeded in giving us (me?) absurd memories, and laughter that is absurder still.

Main bhooka hoon
bhojan laao
jo kucch bhi hai le aao
main bhooka hoon!

Jukhe sharam se nayan
hui bechain,
draupadi boli...

and of course, the all time classic:

bela gulab juhi champa chameli
(bela gulab juhi champa chameli)

phool hain anek kintu mala phir ek hai!
(phool hain anek kintu mala phir ek hai)
ek
anek
ek
anek

Some of these social messages have just been burnt into my consciousness. Like unexpected burps they rise out of my mind and show me 2-D silhouetted forms swimming through water, dancing around a tree or circling an elephant. Birds flying with a hunting nets in their beaks, rats running around exemplifying solidarity.

Badly made, or cleverly implanted?

[unexpected burps? huh?]

villains

Happened to find this absurd topic to talk about in bed with the better half last night, hence the poll on the right. Well, actually I asked her to guess which film the character 'Moosa' was from, and she couldn't.
My personal inclination is towards Moosa.
What a name.

there's a xerox even up there

There have been many pounding male hearts in India in the last few years, happily gushing at the thought, look and sometimes the mere mention of her. Beer glasses have been broken, and worse still, beer has been spilt trying to convince others that she is the exquisite gift to mankind.
And while the oohing and aahing, the sighing and dying, and the general being-smitten-ness has realtively abated recently- compared to, say, 6 years ago, many male minds (and bodies) still remain convinced that she might not be many things, but is the physically one of the closest-to perfect women.

Imagine their consternation at this, and her! What a stunning and, if possible, depressing development in the field of Indian beauty, methinks. (the development is stunning, I am not so sure about the 'developer'). Legions of people believing in uniqueness have been jolted into some sort of quasi Rai-less reality.

Of course, once you read the interview, there is some mollififcation.
Beauty and brains? I think not.
Well, at least not till her 1st year exam results.

postscript- of course, guess who's discovery she is supposed to be.