Interpreter of Maladies

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Dev D - this one's for real !!

For starters, I am not a huge Anurag Kashyap fan (I do read Passion for Cinema, yet...). I did not hate NO SMOKING - I thought it had all the makings of a genre breaker. What went wrong was probably choosing John to play the lead. Not using any offensive words, he is as wooden as the table on which my laptop rests as I type away to glory. He could have gone with an actor with a permanent anguish and it might have worked. I loved Black Friday - the music, the movie, the actors - perfecto. And I loved the story in Satya. I think AK goes wrong when he tries to balance sense with sensibility. Does not work !!

In Dev D, what works is that he gives two hoots to anyone and everyone. Censor - two hoots. Moral authorities - two hoots. Public - two hoots. Shahrukh - two hoots. That kind of attitude works like magic for a movie like this. You cannot, not show abuse and create a Dev D. For dummies, walking with a fake liquor bottle with your face powder and mascara shining through - aka Shahrukh - does not work !! Abhay is your "two hoots" personified. The man is 30+, yet has not done a single conventional hero movie, at least the kind of movie in which he gets the sexier girl at the end. Believes in defying convention and redefining it. So, that was a smart choice to make. 

He has a story to direct, which has been grounded from the lofty ideals Sharat Babu planted it in. Not that there is anything wrong about Bengali literature, but it revels in being ethereal. Not the kind of thing, which works for me.  The heart of the story is what most of us have been through, either in our own lives or have seen others living it. What works is that there is no repentance and full marks given to the intelligence of the audience. I loved the "main aa raha hoon", the mattress on the fields, the vodka with coke, the hotel tajmahal and the very foreigner looking Mrs. Chunni -  trivial details like these which make the movie special. Which shows the director cared to look and analyze and add details, at all places where I, the humble audience in the backrow could watch it.

And how could I ignore Paro - Mahi Gill is fantastic as the headstrong "JAT"ni. The handpump scene was awesome - full marks there. And put that alongside the clothes washing masterpiece in Dev's room and you have my ideal heroine there. Someone who loves and loves like no one else does, but is not afraid to move on when life does. I like their last scene together - the conversation on the door. That's her moment perfecto, where she steals the scene, the show and the audience. 

Kalki needs grooming. She has done well in scenes with Abhay but seems transfixed and wooden in the first half of her story. Guess she can play spicy better than shocked. But she has potential - best witnessed in the dirty talk on the phone, first encounter with Dev scenes. 

Everything was just perfect till the momo scene and that's where I lost you Mr. Kashyap. Why did you choose a saccharine ending to such a gritty, grounded movie. Dev seems like a zombie in the mental hospital or some other worldly alien in the bathtub scene and I wondered then, were 3 hours becoming much too long for you - to choose that ending. That ending is perhaps the only blot in the movie. In that perfect perfect movie. 

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Monday, April 14, 2008

Music Magic

It was Wednesday when browsing through the newspapers, a miniscule column caught my attention - about the BhaktiUtsav. I faintly remembered references to some such event last year, but could not relate. Went to the web and found that it was the festival of devotional music which attracts crooners from all over India and Pakistan - to praise the allmighty in their traditional style of music.
I saved up on the week then- to go to the fest on this Sunday.
I was apprehensive - maybe it would not be good - there were no big ads in the city - even the newspaper thing was more of the size of an obituary than an event. Nehru Park, where the event was to take place seemed all desolate too. No sign of a horde of cars, no banners - nothing. The gatekeeper informed us in an empathetic baritone, "Program ke liye aaye hain? Peeche se jaaiye". I frowned at "Programme", was I seriously about to jeopardize my really precious weekend for the mockery of some music fest.
So from "peeche se", I went and found this curtain of earthen lamps shadowing a display of marigold flower chains. Seems exotic, I thought. There was an imposing but simple stage and right ahead of the stage, there was place to sit on the ground. There were chairs too, for those who would dare not touch the ground below their feet. I sat and allowed myself to intake the ambience. The tall tree and under its fulsome branches, that harmony of light and sound. They started at dot 6.30 which was quite surprising from Delhi standards. But this was no Punjabi brouhaaa - in a balanced and melifluous voice, the presenter announced the agenda of the day and briefly what all was to pass.
It started with a Sanskrit Bhajan to Jagannath by Maheshwar Rao. I was busy interpreting the Bhajan for the first 5 minutes to an animated audience on the side. But then the staidness of the Bhajan forced me to close my eyes and sway with the mood. By the time the closing lines came, I was already transposed to another world. A couple of couplets later, Hariharan came to the stage. I realized the small park had become marginally more crowded - he was the star of the evening. But this was no star Hariharan (although there were moments when he did fall into the ambience of being filmy), this was the real Hariharan - soft, mushy and touching.
There were so many others which I can talk about - listening to Ramcharitmanas with so much heart in place, listening to why all my demons are only inside me- but let me leave the hints here. Scattered, so that next year, I go back again - no matter what is playing on my mind then - I will still find sanctuary and solace again.

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Monday, March 31, 2008

Marriage, Consulting and much more

It has been a gruelling six months since I have actually dropped in to write a word. I can give those meandering excuses about work and personal problems but I guess nothing answers it best than a post itself.
I was busy getting married. Life after marriage is difficult in an additional dimension - all by itself. Marriage blesses you with a partner who values you and keeps you secured but it also forcefully at first and benignly at the next, teaches you to take care of this other someone. The brain revolts and the heart tries to get around the problem but there is no solution in sight. You hate sharing almirahs, furniture, bathrooms. You even hate the fact that the other person never arranges things in the way you always do. That - according to me - is singlehandedly the biggest challenge of married life. Once you get past that, it is always easy to build a life together.
I always thought marriage would be a cakewalk. I had everything in place - the right guy, the long relationship, the amenable parents. The wedding hullaballoo was tolerable - I came pretty much unscathed out of all that jamboree. But, it is when the fineries are safely stocked in suitcases, the curtains are rolled up- that it all starts to sink in :)
Well, forgot the cribs of a newly married. I should talk about work. By far - the more interesting and enriching part of my life (as I would have you believe). Consulting is a monster in itself. It all starts with the promise of great work - which I did in leaps and bounds and then sinks to the mortaliest and clumsiest piece of work that remains on the face of the earth. Well, those are the labor pains of the lifecycle - you have to be a cocoon once (and for a long time) to finally attain that butterfly like stage (i.e. if you last long enough to see it)
I am so glad I am writing again. Maybe this is horrendous to read and sounds really frustrating at this time but I am sure it will take just that small bit of time before I come back.

Sayonara until then

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Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Rising small town middle class

This was the title of a special news feature Times Now did a few days back. This traces back its inspiration and origin to the increasing success of people from tier 2, 3 cities in singing competitions, sports and movies. Most small town middle class denizens like me would react in two ways to such a news feature - 1. Feel proud and pat our backs on what individuals such as us have achieved 2. Or feel that media is again doing what it does best - using a very small sample to predict a larger trend.
So what, if a Dhoni captains a 20-20 cricket team, a Poonam Yadav stands to win a singing competition or an Ankita (even with a broken and hoarse voice) is one of the favorites to win the third Indian Idol. What does the rise to glory of a Sania Mirza denotes? Is it actually a larger trend? Are the Kanpurs, Lucknows, Bareilys, Gunturs, Jodhpurs, Ahmedabads, Patnas and their similar cousins are on the steady path of conquest over their wealthier and well-to-do Delhis, Mumbais and such as. Even in the face of Euphoria, I beg to disagree. I would believe that fate of many like us have changed when things have changed fundamentally. Opening multiplexes in tier 2 cities and entry of hyper retail in smaller towns does not indicate an awakening of the small town middle class. It only means cashing out on the consumerist tendencies of the middle class. An awakened small town middle class should indicate something bigger. Are people in these cities better educated today? Do they have similar career opportunities? Have infrastructure and facilities got a facelift? Does it make any difference for a Delhite to shift to a Lucknow? Should he stop getting concerned about eve teasing, potholes on the road, bribery to get gas connections and phone lines and illegal construction around his house? I am not confusing social and political issues. I am merely denoting that the mentality of people in small cities is still the same. There has been no major change there. What is happening is a shrouding of the new by the old. So yes, there are potholes and stinking drains in your small town but you won't notice it coz there is a shining Big Bazar right on the same street which can actually blind you to the realities of the city itself.
What we need to question is how to connect the economic interests of the private sector with the developmental needs of the small cities? Why should we not place a liability on the private sector to target total development and not part out with our cash until they do so?
Until then, an Ankita after becoming Indian Idol will not go back to Kanpur. She will just settle down in a Mumbai/Delhi and bless her fortunes that she got an opportunity to walk out a long foregone place.

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Friday, August 03, 2007

Airports and Airplanes

Since I have had enough exposure of the two, I can qualify to be suitably accomplished to write this. Life in consulting is spend primarily in commuting. Whether it be commuting within cities or from the airport to the client site. I would have taken close to 25 flights in the last two months that I have been working. Here is a simple what works/what doesn't on the two major carriers:

Jet Airways
Nice staff - both the steward and stewardesses are sure of how to react to quirky enquiries of passengers. For example, if they run out of pillows and blankets, they will actually adjust the temperature of the AC to suit you !!
Food: I find the Jet food sumptious and healthy. Although it lacks variety !!
Comfort: Although the seats are no good at ergonomics, but the blanket and the pillow more than makes up for the poor seats. The blankets are worth a steal !!
Time: Jet has started faring poorly on this ever and ever again. They are hardly on time anytime. Baggage collection is a mess and check in counters are becoming less informative day by day.

Kingfisher
Big plus: On time !! The promise is lived up to the nth second. I have never sat on a Kingfisher flight that is more than 30 min late. The terminal arrangements and clearing on runways that they have ensured is quite awesome. Hats off, Vijay Mallya.
Food: Very innovative - giving a menu before serving the food. That's very nice. Makes you await the food.
Service: The airport luggage pickup service is quite impressive. They actually locate you, get your bags, make it run fast through screening and get you checked in, before you could count 10.
What does not work is poor blankets. Your airline is red but that does not really mean that you give red teddy bear felt blankets to someone who is traveling on business !! Some business sense is required there.

Airports are quite a different creature to talk about. So here is the lowdown:

1. Delhi: Messy, unorganized and too crowded for comfort. Is the government listening ?? Security check queues have been seen to extend out of the airport. Is this our national capital or what?

2. Mumbai: Ooh la la..what an airport. The new terminal rocks. I mean, it made me forget Frankfurt and Heathrow for a second. What they need to improve on the airport is the arrival section. Faster baggage collection and a little more maintenance on the arrival lounge will truly make it the best airport in the country.

3. Chennai: The less said the better it is. The loos hail from 19th century. The toilets leak. The place is so small that arrival and departure are arm's length away from each other. All airline counters are huddled like mom and pop stores on a narrow lane. The security is lip service..nothing more.

4. Kolkata: Would give it better points than Chennai and in some cases may be better than Delhi too. Why Kolkata scores is simple. The arrival lounge is big and spacious. It is also well maintained and airline counters are spread across the floor. Baggage collection could be improved a little and something could be done to make approach roads to the airport better and less congested.

I am sure, most of you would find this post a tiff boring but I don't blame you. It's my life that has become boring. Would try to spice up things real soon.

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Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Back !!

Its strange that I had stopped writing totally and completely. Specifically, when I relate to this small space online more than I do with anything else. So what have I done since the last post. Frankly speaking nothing much. When we talked last, it was April and I had just graduated. Its 1st August today. Significantly,

1. I have joined work. I work out of Gurgaon. Go to Mumbai sometime.
2. I have a place of my own in Gurgaon. Its a small flat. I share it with a collegemate and we have loads of fun together.
3. I spend the holidays wasting and whiling away time. I taught some MBA aspirants on communication and presence. Did some NGO work for an organization. But that's about it :)

All that I have is lots of update on is my job and the city of Mumbai. Its useless to write about Gurgaon..seriously. Will write something soooner and that's a promise.

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Friday, April 13, 2007

On Graduating

This is my second convocation. I thought the teary farewell I bid IIT Kanpur less than four years back would be the last time I would wear a black gown and a ceremonial cap. But then, the stars decreed and I chanced upon an MBA.

This convocation brought memories of the earlier one and nostalgia, although very limited. At the last convo, I was all of 21. I felt IIT was my home, the walls were my best friends and I had grown up there rather than at my home in the city. It was IIT that taught me that friends are for keeps and not everyone is in a mad race to beat you. It taught me to trust blindly, fall and learn from my mistakes. It taught me that sometimes teachers can treasure you as their best but you still cheat them. That and so much more. It was my playground and my school and I did not want to leave. Although I often visit Kanpur, I dont visit college. If I am quoting Mir Taqi Mir correctly (and this is lifted from one of Dalrymple books):

What matters if, O breeze!
If now has come the spring
When I have lost them both
The garden and my nest?

(Its so silly that I have to quote mir in english !! deplorable I know but I don't know Urdu so well and it would take me ages to find the original in Hindi..I know its desecrating and I repent !!)

So that was IIT.Full of young dreams. I had a close to paying nothing kind of job that I took up merely because I wanted to do a job that no one had done before. Two years after college, the heady romance was over and I moved to reality. There was money to be earned, loans to be paid. I wanted to afford those costly air travels and those fabulous dresses. So, what do you do. You do an MBA. Because that is the surefire ticket to money, if nothing else, this scrounge of money making attached to an MBA made it the worst kind of parasite to me. I was shy of telling people that I was going to do an MBA. I did not give a thought to my college and made fun of the whole thing. Even the fact that I cleared an exam to make it to the college. It was that whole bias that I was doing an MBA for the worst of all sins-the greed of money. When I quit my job, I was embarassed of leaving as I liked my work. Its just that the pay was below subsistence levels. At the MBA school, what struck me first was apathy. I was neutral. I hated the rooms. They were so small. And the weather. And the city. And I felt all the people that had amassed in that college had all come with that satanic wish of earning money. How pithy...how stupid.

The two years that went by taught me a lot. That MBA is not just about learning to earn money. It is also about a whole lot of learning. It also stands for some of the same things that IIT stands for. One can still find great teachers and build bonds with them. You can still find great friends although it becomes more difficult and real friends are few. And yes, there are few chances of falling and getting up. You got to be fast in a bschool. And yes, competition is way of life. Yet, I did find selfless happiness in more ways than one. Did things that I associated no value to and was yet happiest. An MBA is a grown up college. It does not make you senteemental but it makes you thinkimental and thats a great discovery too.

As I wore the black gown and a purple sash and put the square hat on my head, I looked up and laughed at myself. Sometimes, even the things you hate the most, have something good to give. The trick lies in going and discovering.

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Why I chose to be a consultant

An MBA arms you not only with a degree but a great reason to earn and justify it. I am not the one who would like to do a regular 9 to 5 job and try doubly hard at it coz I need dough to support myself. I like a job that comes with no hangovers. Something that I can do today and quit tomorrow with equal elane. But as reason be it, I was born neither a pauper nor a princess but in the Great Indian Middle Class whose big travail in life is to get a "descent" job, a "descent" husband and some other bare minimum decent stuff. So, I was close on the heels of an MBA degree by March 1 when it dawned on me that it was so ridiculously important to get a job. How else would I justify the money spent on my education over the years and the fact that I was still unmarried (I dont care but it is a seriously valid concern for many). More so I had to have a great job and not just any Tom Dick Harry Job. The story being that a job looked like the be all and end all of all my troubles.

I was split between finance and consulting on March 1 with a great proportion of the split reserved for the former. Finance was the money machine, something I did during my summer internship and something I felt I had a knack for. I was not too sure of it but it seemed challenging and my name as a banker sounded mystique to a great extent. But then, did I have the nerve to put in the long hours and endlessly romance with numbers. I needed fun in what I was doing and bankers seemed so removed from everything non serious or even remotely fun. I also wanted to meet people, talk a whole lot and obviously earn good cash to support my dream wardrobe and a dream home somewhere in France. So, it was confusion in all its grandeur. On the D day, which was March 10, I told myself (while hastily applying a half smudged lisptick to parched lips and putting compact to hide those dark circles from sleepless nites) that finance be it. As I went for my first interview and was put through grueling excel sheets, numbers, valuation and what not, I said my last prayers. A consulting interview post that was that great faceswash you pine for after a hot day spent shopping. I talked and talked to my heart's content, put some jargon, some brain behind cases and ultimately liked the people I had spent 3 hours with. To me, it felt, these would be good people to work with. So kaboom. I accepted the offer.

Its a good company to talk about and everyone will congratulate. Mom Dad will be happy. But primarily and most importantly, I can still write poetry, travel and write stories about people. I can stil amass books and turn an entrepreneur the day I feel bored with my job. All that is comforting but the dawning of the knowledge that I had
turned a consultant was huge. I was the one who made fun of the consulting jargons and there new fangled models and now I was turning one myself. Obviously it was embarassing but come to think of it, that is what suits me the best.

I, the gypsy kind and the not so intelligent kind. This is the safest choice. I wish not to regret. And until I do, I wish to enjoy the good times.

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