States of Indian Cricket

I have heard a lot about Ramachandra Guha's eclectic interests- his passion for Marxism, his ability as a historian, his interest in environmentalism and his love for Cricket. And having read his articles occasionally, I respected his skill as a writer. That made me pick up his book States of Indian Cricket, an anthology of essays based on Cricket; It is basically two different books reprinted together. The first one, called Wickets in the East, is where Guha picks up Best XI's from six of India's most important Cricketing states, and proceeds through the history of the respective regions, comparing batsmen across eras, talking statistics and discussing societal influences on the players' styles. It begins as a fairly personal chronicle of a man who loves the sport and who has a deep interest in its history. But it turns fast into a plethora of numbers, venues, records and names. For one, the writing is very dull, and two, Guha comes off less as a passionate fan and more as a snobby intellectual who is far too in love with himself and his theories. No, it's not bad writing. Its just that it is as interesting as a History thesis detailing Lord Curzon's report regarding the political upheaval in India. The subject is very interesting, its just that the narrative is very conceited.

I have been a fan of sportswriters, the romantics who never fall out of love with the game, the dramatists who know which points to highlight and the astute analyzers who know enough about the history and the technicalities of the game to put it in context. I didn't know what was wrong with the book but I knew something was amiss. This was not an ode to the game he loved, not a tribute to his favourite players. It was more of a thesis statement. Which is kind of ironical because in his preface he states that the reason behind the existence of the book was Ashis Nandy's Tao of Cricket, which I haven't read, but which Guha claims was boring because it was way too analytical and not anecdotal. I have a similar complaint against Guha. Yes, he has a few interesting anecdotes, but they are not narrated with the excitement of a raconteur but rather, with the habituality of a stand-up comedian.

Only after I started reading the second part, Spin and Other turns, which is a much better offering, did I realise why Guha wasn't as gripping as my other favourite sportswriters. I am a huge fan of Rohit Brijnath, Peter Roebuck and having read the occasional Norman Mailer and Neville Cardus, I know you don't have to be boring just because you were classical. And Paul Wheeler's Bodyline is one of the most interesting books I've read, which plays out as intriguingly as drama despite being historical, and is as inspiring as fiction precisely because it loves its heroes, the good, the bad and the ugly. Guha, on the other hands, comes off as too cocky to fall in love. He has a knowledge of the craft but I don't think he truly comprehends the art. There is respect in his voice but no reverence. There is appreciation, no awe.The reason great sportswriters are so great is not just because they analyse the game. But, instead, they try to understand the athlete from the game he plays. Cricket, for that matter any sport, is so full of life and interesting precisely because the men who love and play it are so interesting. Tendulkar and Dravid, Federer and Nadal, Messi and Ronaldo; They play the same game. But the way they do it talks so much about themselves and the game. Guha looks at everything with an air of superiority, his head filled with preconceived notions, and like that adage goes, When you have a hammer in you hand, everything looks like a nail, he is more attuned towards fitting people into his theories than to try and unravel the man who plays the game so well.

All in all, a rather dull affair the books are. Guha is a statistician who can write and an historian who likes Cricket. If you are the kind who reads every sportsbook that hits the stands, this ain't a bad read. But if you are an occasional sports book reader, stay away. There are far better and much loved books than this.

Pulp Fiction

I can't believe it took me so long to discover Pulp Fiction. Reservoir Dogs, raved about it. Inglorious Basterds, loved it. But nothing prepared me for this. For this onslaught of genius. I don't really believe in the notion of originality, but if anything is, this sure is. This is a film that is pulsating with energy through every frame, every dialogue. And the music amps it up. Tarantino seems to be intoxicated with the whole process of making a movie that he creates something that we seldom see- a film that is a living, breathing entity. This is an instance where the movie seems to have developed a symbiotic relationship with its writer-director that they're feeding off each other. God, I don't know what to say.

The film hit me so hard, despite its cult following, despite its innumerable spin-offs, despite having heard so much about it. I don't know what it would have been like had I seen it without expecting anything. The characters are so loud, so not-so-real that they could have turned caricaturish. Instead, they embrace the fact that they're so over-the-top; that they're not based on real people but are truly Tarantino's original creations, based on the thousands of movies he must have watched as that video store clerk. Filmmakers have always taken pride in making their characters as real, as normal, as believable as possible. But Tarantino, here, shoots that philosophy in the head and invites us into his wild fantasies.

I believe the whole motive of cinema, the reason behind its creation,  was to capture the wilderness of the imagination. That is why we have huge screens, blaring music, epic heroes. Cinema, as art, was not a medium used for introspection; its heroes were not meant to be people we could relate to but only those we could aspire to be. Jim Carrey, when talking about Eastwood's Man-With-No-Name protagonist of his Dollars Trilogy, hits this precise note. He says the hero, a larger-than-life mythic figure, had no name so that we could fill in ours. But somewhere in the journey, as cinema got more personal and intimate, started showing us our most private, vulnerable facets, we lost sight of the improbable. And soon, anything improbable, was looked upon as something impossible.

Tarantino embraces just that. He takes that leap of imagination. We know we might never encounter a Bible quoting gangster, or a cleanup guy who is so calm even when clearing bits of brain as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, and I'm pretty sure nobody can be as clever and as inventive in their dialogue in real life but that is the whole fuckin' point. To remind ourselves how much fun film making can be and why we love cinema so much.

The attacks of 26/11

The Attacks Of 26/11 is a film that is lazy, cheap and arbitrary. Instead of being a salute to the martyrs of 26/11 like it claims in the end it is, the film is an insult to the victims and heroes of the day. It reeks of RGV's arrogance. Harsh words, yes, but I'm deeply hurt. And I feel let down as a viewer, an Indian and a film enthusiast.

I have been a huge fan of Ram Gopal Varma. I quote Satya atleast once every day. I cheered the first time I recognised a Steadicam chase in Shiva, I loved his characterizations of Paresh Rawal in Kshana Kshanam and Rami Reddy in Anaganaga Oka Roju. I convinced people that KSD Appalraju was ahead of its times. And I'm proud that Rathri is a Telugu movie. Even now, despite turning out crap like Adavi, Aag and Department, I wait for his resurrection, grateful for the man who taught me so much about cinema. And when I read comments on Facebook yesterday about how 26/11 is the next Satya, I was elated. Because for the good and the bad, what Ramu can do, only he can. I love the way he doesn't take himself seriously, how he's constantly working on cinema, like its the only thing he is capable of doing, and I'm floored by his cast and crew selection. Digression: Anurag Kashyap is the only contemporary Hindi filmmaker who has a spectacular eye for talent and the ability to utilise it. 

This film is not as bad as his worst films. But I'm shocked to see that 1. he seems clueless as to what form and shape the film has to take, 2. has no natural aptitude to direct this kind of material ( Kashyap's Black Friday and Bigelow's Zero Dark Thirty are phenomenal examples in the genre ), 3. has wasted a story with tremendous potential and worst of all, 4. seems disinterested in the making itself. This from a man whose only virtue as a filmmaker was his overflowing passion. Anurag Kashyap, when writing about the making of Satya, makes a statement which perhaps epitomizes Ramu perfectly. He says that all Ramu had going for him on the set, where he was overshadowed by almost everyone else when it came to technical expertise and film making experience, was his fascination and appetite for cinema. Ramu was once the spiritual heir to Scorsese's cinematic fervour. Now he seems bored by it all. 

Personally, I thought, the Black Friday approach would have suited the material very well. Or he could have given it an out and out documentary approach and since he was anyway using real names, he might well have created various sub-plots and tied them all up neatly in the end. 26/11 is neither about facts nor about emotions. It simply takes a stereotyped approach where you know how every character is going to react and assembles the film using off-she-shelf scenes. It would still have been a watchable film, thanks to the subject, had it been bad writing. It, inexcusably, is lazy writing. Technically too, the film stinks. RGV trademarked bizarre camera angles, a loud, irritating soundtrack, inconsistent editing- It looks like a cheap, B-grade film.

But still, its worst sin is not all this. It is its lack of empathy, its conspicuous lack of need to inform or entertain and its vulgar approach to make money in the spirit of yellow journalism. Ram Gopal Varma's The Attacks of 26/11 is as disgusting as those TV commercials that blackmail low-scoring kids and dark complexioned women into buying their products. Only, Ramu handles material that is far more noble. He makes a film that is a disgrace to everyone touched by the attacks of 26/11.  

Avoid it.

Oldboy

Oldboy is an exhilarating piece of filmmaking. It reminded me that beyond everything else that cinema offers, subtexts, hidden meanings, symbolism, social commentary, critique and visual spectacle, lay its emotional core of gripping audience at the onset and not letting off until the very end. Atleast. Because the greatest films, the ones closest to our heart, never leave us. Sometimes we love a movie too much because it relates to us on the superficial level. But every film that is termed a classic is so done because it crosses boundaries and taps the hidden child within us who is perpetually craving for stories. Stories that are believable, stories that are humane, stories that transport us to places deep within ourselves and stories that introduce us to people we might be.

Park Chan-wook's film opens with the image of a man holding another by his throat, which might as well serve as a metaphor to how Park holds us by the throat and doesn't let go even after the end credits roll. The story of  a man who is imprisoned in a cell for fifteen years, never told why he is being punished, never spoken to, not even let die, is in itself so compelling that it doesn't take long for us to imagine ourselves in that position. What in itself could have been a great portrayal of human psyche had the film stayed just inside the confines of the cell, turns into a savage revenge plot containing gruesome visuals like eating a live, squirming octopus, pulling teeth of a man using the back of a hammer and slicing one's tongue off. But it never seems cheap, never contrived because it is not done to be attention grabbing but to serve the purpose of the story as a whole. The usage of music is phenomenal; Jo Yeong-wook usage of classical music to increase the emotional tempo of key scenes is pitch perfect.

The introduction part of Chan-wook's Wikipedia article says that he is known for his impeccable framing. Nothing can define the man more than his ability of astounding usage of camera, both moving and static. The camera not only conveys what is going through the mind of the subject, not only is it very cleverly used, like in the scene where Oh is abducted outside the telephone booth, but every shot is beautiful to look at. Like it is an entity in itself. And both the protagonist and the antagonist suited very well for the roles. Choi Min-sik has a face that conveys pain buried layers within and his ability to transform the look on his face interchangeably is a delight. Here is an actor who's engraved himself deeply into the role. Yoo Ji-tae has a stunning face, one that is at one innocent and malicious, sympathetic and sadistic.

Quentin Tarantino, who was the President of the Jury at the Cannes in 2004, lobbeyed hard for the movie to win the Palme d'Or but it only received the Grand Prix. Nevertheless, Oldboy is a bravura piece of filmmaking, both for its subject matter and its approach. It is also, quite simply, a fantastic example of master storytelling- Engaging, Rewarding and Intoxicating.  

David

Walking out of David, I thought how much better it could have been. The premise, which is revealed only in the end, is brilliant. And I thought it had the capacity to deliver a better, more intimate story. Like I was just reading in one of the reviews for Shaitan, I sometimes felt that the film would have been less distracting if Bejoy Nambiar didn't show off his technical prowess in every frame.

Hyperlink Cinema, as introduced to us by the judiciously gifted Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, is a film technique dealing with usually three different stories which on the surface seem not to be related, but as revealed in the end, are connected thematically; usually one incident binding them all. Nambiar tries something similar, and I love the idea of using the name David to deal with three different people, across three different eras, in three different societies but all of  who are deeply attached to their fathers and who are forced to make life-altering choices.

The films are shot spectacularly, with the London track convincingly leaving the noir mark, the muted, saturated tones of the Mumbai track gel well with the mood, and the bright, unsteady shots in the Goa track are apt for stunning locales. Halfway through the Mumbai track, it suddenly hit me, why I was growing restless in the theatre. I liked the premise, the look but the story seemed to be chugging along after all. Bad acting. Vinay Virmani's character was probably the least developed character among the three Davids and added to that, his lack of conviction let that story down. Even in his most powerful scenes, the ones that had so much scope, he was mediocre at best and indifferent at worst. Neil Nitin was competent as the brooding young man, with his crowbar moustache doing half his job.  And I thought the guy who played his foster father, Ghani, was spectacular in the tiny role. Especially his monologue at dinner table was magnificent. And Vikram was at his natural in the role of a man perpetually stuck between reality and illusion. He pulls off these characters really well, men who have no clue what is going on in the world around them. And Nambiar's use of Saurabh Shukla was hilarious. Tabu, in a cameo, stole hearts.

The weakest point, as I see it, was the underwritten characters and Nambiar's need to make every frame glitzy. It tired me after a point of time, having to know how creative and smart Nambiar is. With better writing and better casting, David could have been so much more. Now I think I know why Anurag Kashyap is such a phenomenal director. Come to think of it, Gangs of Wasseypur doesn't even have a story. Just pick up the right cast, and they'll take you to Cannes.

update

The problem with growing up is that we are typecast. We are forced to become something. A stereotype. What are you? An engineer, a filmmaker, a cook, a professor? We are not any of these. We are almost, more often than not, all of these and more. I'm surprised by the human mentality to find a job that one loves and stick to it until we turn 60. Well, being able to do that is an art form. It requires discipline, tenacity and passion for doing it well. But before deciding what we want to do for the rest of our lives, it is also important to ask why we have to choose something. All our lives, we've been taught to be well-rounded, to be atleast good at a lot of things, and very good at a couple of things. Then, why suddenly are we made to find a career so that we can grow vertically. That's one way to live, definitely, but I've always been more mesmerised with the horizontal. I'd rather be an amateur at everything than be an expert in one. How are you going to make money then, start a family and feed your kids then? If you don't have a job and a rising salary to meet your growing financial needs? I don't know, really. And I'm not considering it right now because that is not my headache yet. But I am not ready to sacrifice living to making a living. I don't know what this is about. The only reason why I'm posting this is because it has been a long time since I've posted anything.
Later.

Explaining BOATS

This is a follow-up post.

Thank you, everyone, who've seen the film and have provided me with their criticisms, advises, appreciation and questions. A lot of people who I've spoken to about the film have told me what they thought about it and the problems they had with it. Soon enough, I found a pattern there. I will be addressing the most redundant views. This is not a post condemning the opinions nor a defense against criticism. I'm really glad that people are telling me what they thought. I just want to explain what went through my mind when I made it so that another viewing might help you understand the film better.

1. The short was a tad too long
I was trying to show the sheer inactivity in our lives. Our lives don't happen like they are shown in the movies. Phenomenal events don't happen to us every day and likewise, we do not remember what we had done yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. Because so many days are equal, a little inordinary ones seem so special. The idea was to capture the inactivity. Also, I looked at myself as an auteur and likewise understood that all art films need long, voiceless shots for the viewer to decipher the mood. Guess I screwed up there.

2. There was no plot and the dialogue was redundant
When we look at our lives, do we have any idea why we are wherever we are? Or do we have the capacity to be accountable for every action and every moment in our lives? Life just flows. And only when you look back, you connect the dots and try to create a plot. And redundancy is probably the most redundant part of our lives. We think the same things over and over again, talk the same things over and over again because talking and thinking lets us be in our comfort zone and dream of a better future. That's what both my characters did. They had been talking about the film for years and that's what they did on yet another day too. Because taking out a camera and shooting was such a pain in the ass. Dreaming about it was comforting and gave them a feeling that they were going somewhere with their lives. They could justify their joblessness by believing that they were the creative ones and were waiting for the right spark of inspiration.

3. Editing was pathetic and bad Re-recording
Have to second that. No excuses or explanation there. Should consult a pro. For the record, we recorded the dialogue on an iphone. And there is no lip sync because my actors improvised with the dialogue and we had to make do with what we could hear amidst the blare of Vinayaka Nimarjanam.

4. Shot in Black & White and no BGM
Again, the auteur stuff. I thought I was being clever by keeping everything under the rug. Implicitly sharing everything. Black and White for two reasons- 1. Two complementary characters 2. The minimalist, subdued mood.
No BGM because the one thing I scored on my computer felt right for a horror film. Otherwise, I'd have loved to have music at the end of second scene when they are walking away. That is precisely why I didn't cut that shot. But despite having no BGM, I couldn't cut it because I fell in love with it. Oh, btw, if you noticed, the end credits roll with a guitar strumming pattern. Its just two chords, G and C,  one after the other, repeating and never changing. That was supposed to be an allegory to the repetitiveness mentioned in point above.

5. Ending too abrupt/inconclusive 
Everyone of us has life-changing moments in our life. When we think of the most important incidents in our lives, there's a specific moment pertaining to that incident that is stored in our heads. But we map them only when we're looking back, trying to find the point where that big turn came. None of us have ever been able to be in the moment and decide that this one will be life changing. Past gives us our bearings, not the present. I wanted to signify that. I could have had a simple voice over stating if the film was to be made or not. But I didn't. Because I've had hundreds of meetings like the one between the two protagonists in the film and only one of them shaped this movie. This film is a tribute to the forgotten hundreds.

6. The acting could have been better
Fair enough but I have to take the blame for that. I was so overwhelmed with the process of making the movie that I didn't explain it to my actors precisely how I wanted them to be. They did the best they could have. Novice direction- Charged Guilty.

7. No character depth
I thought this was uncalled for. I thought I had stuffed the characters with a lot of traits, opinions, feelings that even if they weren't anything else, they were real, normal people. Nothing is on the face but if you pay a little attention, I believe, you can learn quite something about them.

I can't think of anything else right now. But yes, despite people patting my back that this is good for a first film, I know I should have done a much, much better job. But I'm glad that I've learnt so much from it.

So, after listening to what people have thought about it, would I change anything in the film if I had to make it again? No. I'd probably improve the re-recording and add a little BGM. But I won't meddle with anything else. What I'm trying to say, the content, is as relevant as the form, the way I've chosen to do it. This was never intended to be a fifteen minute miniature version of life where something accountable is happening every second. This is life as how I see it. And like somebody pointed out, since life is like this anyway, why should I watch your film; I can go live my life instead. I can't argue against that.

But this is how I want to live my life. By making films. What a phenomenal boats ride it has been.
Oh, before I forget, I'm working on another short. Been scripting it now for more than a month. Really excited about it. Back then soon.

Zen in the art of living

The biggest problem we face as humans is that we get those things in life which we think we should. Well, that could be a huge problem, or a wonderful possibility. Think about it, really. Take a pause and think. Whatever you are today is simply because you chose to be this. Well, I understand when people say that I've been forced to do this but even then you chose what was best for you. Or what you thought was best for you. Is it better to hurt my father and standup for what I want to do or is it better to keep him happy, after all he's given me so much. Either way, good or the bad that it eventually turned out into, you chose it. Every moment in life, you have two possibilities in front of you, to do it or not to do it. Not infinite but just two. When you choose one option, you are confronted by the same question again the next moment. And a sum of all those decisions defines who are.

People are guilty of their crimes not because they realise what they've done but because feeling miserable is the best option they have. By repenting for their mistakes, they are cleansing themselves, erasing their bad karma. Which is a good thing by itself but its just that you don't want a lot of moments in life that you repent for. When people are obsessed with something, they want it as badly as they've ever wanted anything, be it a kid for a toy or a woman who wants to be a writer or a young man trying to live broke, if they truly, badly want it, if that one single thought permeates everything else their life is about, they'll get it. They'll find ways to get it. And Paulo Coelho is dead on in The Alchemist when he says, "If you truly want something, the entire universe conspires into getting it to you."

Well, that's a brilliant line, but the entire universe? Why would the entire universe come down to give you what you want? Because the entire universe is just you. Everything you see, you feel, you think, you taste is adulterated stuff. You let your prejudices and expectations, experiences and ideas affect it. And so, similarly, if you badly want something, you'll find ways to do it. I don't like my work but I'm compelled to do it because of my family situations. Bullshit, you are doing it because you are lazy to be doing something in earnest or too scared to find out what you want to do in life. I like her but my father will never agree. If you want her badly enough and if you don't want your father hurt, you sit down, talk, convince, coax, threaten. Whatever. I always believed that great love stories are the ones that end on a tragic note. What I failed to understand that ending on a tragic note did not make it a great love story. The love story failed because either of them didn't believe in their love, because they found it comfortable to down drinks than fight and face the consequences. You don't have to choose between people. If you have uttermost confidence in yourself and the belief in your vision, people'll respect you and eventually agree with you.

It's your life, if you don't respect it, if you don't stand by your decisions, if you are not confident enough of your abilities and aspirations, nobody's going to give a shit. Period. But its definitely not as easy to implement as it is to say. Do you think so? Remember when you were 8 years old and you wanted something bad. You asked for it, begged, pleaded but your parents said no. You promised them that you'd be a goddamned topper in the next exam just to get it. Did you top? If you are like me, chances are, you didn't. Because I couldn't maintain the same level of enthusiasm, energy and intensity when I first asked for it, neither did I completely believe in my abilities to be the topper nor did I work hard towards it. And all that is because I simply didn't care. Because I never fell in love with whatever I had asked for, it was just an infatuation and it blew away at the prospect of hard work.

But there have been a few moments, like you must have had too, when the passion for whatever I wanted totally flooded everything else, the longing so extreme that nothing else seemed to matter. Like when you are trying to figure out that tune looping in your head. Or when the writer's name is at the tip of your tongue but you just can't get it out. The effort which we put into it is tremendous; extraordinary; annoying at times. But we love doing it because we can see the satisfaction in bringing something out form the depths of memory, because it pleases us to know that we are capable of drilling deep in and persisting to get what we want. And I believe it also makes us proud because we've earned it. The destination might be a first rank, or an elusive tune or learning how to drive. It does not matter. The goal is just a motivating factor. We love the struggle we've put in because it takes our 100%. Because it demands our utmost attention, the force of our entire capabilities and it gives us a purpose. The destination does not matter, its the journey that exhilarates us.

And there's one more thing I want to talk about today. Its our fascination with imperfections. How many times have we heard the phrase, "Imperfections make us human". Maybe its true and pretty useful for somebody who's getting increasingly frustrated with not being able to attain perfection in whatever he is doing. But that does not mean we should stop at being imperfect. A beginner and an expert, both are imperfect, albeit in their own way. The way we strive, the path we choose to become perfect makes us who we are. So, I think it's high time we quit giving excuses. Procrastination, lack of inspiration, excuses of being busy or sheer indifference to our commitment are just various ways of saying we don't want what we think we want badly enough. Whenever we hear an inspiring talk, or read a story of an amputee who runs faster than a normal man, we are invigorated. We recast ourselves as the David against the Goliath of life's problems. But soon we are back in our rut. Not because we are lazy or incapable. And sometimes not even because we don't want something badly enough. But because we don't want to listen to ourselves, our heart or soul or spirit or whatever you want to call it. Its important to listen to the voice coming from deep down within because it best knows what we want. How can we know if its the true voice and not yet another fantasy? By working towards it. By paying heed to every wish that's coming from within and working towards it, by investing into it all that we have and by enjoying every moment for whatever it is.

You want something, go get it. Everything else is an excuse.

the idea of enlightenment

Sadhguru, thank you. Mystic's Musings will probably be the book I'll look back to years from now and say emphatically that it changed my life. And I'm not done even halfway through. The kind of questions that it manages to rise are phenomenal. And answers to those questions in Sadhguru's wry, understated humour. The anecdotes he comes up with to answer a few questions are truly strokes of genius. Or maybe, those of the enlightened. When somebody asked Sadhguru, "What is the reason behind the creation of the universe?", he replied, "One day, God was bored and was playing marbles. A few marbles flew here and a few there, one became Earth, another became Sun.. Do you want me to continue? (laughs) Just because I've told you such a simple story, you think I'm joking. If I tell you a much more sophisticated story, you will believe me. Maybe, it'll be the truth. But what use will it be to you? It might satiate your curiosity, bring you solace for a while but that is not why I'm here. Your duty should be to find out why you are here. Why do you care why the universe was created?"

The utter simplicity of the last statement totally blew me away. True, without bothering to know myself completely, to comprehend and control myself completely, how will knowing answer to such a question will help me. It'll probably entertain me, but not enlighten me. Having done his Shambhavi Mahamudra four years ago, albeit just for a couple of weeks, I understand him a little more than a layman when he talks about various energy levels, more being there to life than the simple physical and emotional manifestations that we thing we are capable of and the core belief in what he's saying. I trust him. The way he describes love is fascinating. Love, or for that matter, anything in life should be liberating. When he talks Bhakthi Yoga, he talks boundless love. Loving the person so much so that you don't exist anymore. In one of his answers, he says that there are two ways to reach Shiva. One is becoming a zero infront of him, surrendering to him completely. Other, being the all encompassing one, being infinity, acquiring the ability to include everything in the universe within oneself. And then meet Shiva in equal terms. Nobody explained Moksha to me better.

More than the convincing manner which his answers inevitable take, more than his foolproof logic, what inspires me is the confidence he has in his methods. Describing his method as scientific appeals to the rational mind because a lot of people are not ready to take the leap if a Guru tells them, give your everything to God, and then you can reach him. According to him, it works, but none of us would be ready to go to phenomenal lengths, take extraordinary leaps just because of our faith in a master. We have not been conditioned like that. And so, we need to be convinced, cajoled, see results, pushed, probed and inspired. Sadhguru does all those things. When it comes to matters of faith, Sadhguru points to the example of Sadhus wandering naked in the freezing cold of the Himalayas. When Sadhguru once asked a group of Naked Sadhus what they were doing, freezing to death, they replied, "When we went to our Guru for answers, he told us to wander like this in the Himalayas for twelve years and then go back to him. Only then will he set us on our path to liberation." Sadhguru says that that is the intensity required by a man to attain spirituality. The intensity of their one question, "Why am I here?" is so strong that they are willing to forgo a life of comfort, security and stability to know the answer. The amount of intelligence, maturity and strength it takes to trust a man who promised to give them an answer years later is so huge that they don't need a Guru to be enlightened. Burning with such fervour, they'd find the answers themselves anyway.

His answers to the most complex of questions dealing with issues of family, ego, relationships etc. are so simple, so profound and sometimes a little too cruel, that we see how frivolous all the structures we have built around ourselves are anyway. The make-believe toy houses that we have created are turning so big that we are taking them a little too seriously. But the most enlightening thing I've encountered in the book so far is what I would call the Law of Opposites. Sadhguru says that until we've not the seen the worst, we won't know what the best is. Only a really hungry man can understand what it means to eat contentedly. Only a man deprived of sleep can truly nourish the experience of good sleep. And only a man who's dug deep enough within himself can find light at the end of the tunnel.

The idea of enlightenment seems so alluring, so simple, so graspable and yet so daunting. I sometimes think that if I got enlightened and stuff, wouldn't I miss out on everything in life. Skydiving, partying, Bungee-Jumping. And I just found the answer to that question. When somebody asked a similar question, Sadhguru replied, "Will you miss eating cockroach pickle? No? But somebody who's gotten used to it will miss it, right? You think you will miss all those things because you've cast them as priorities in your life. Shun everything away and make spirituality your only priority. See, where it'll take you." Loved it. I'm actually surprised that I didn't find him this enchanting four years ago. Maybe they're right after all; When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Or like Sadhguru puts it, Make the longing intense enough and you'll find your Guru.

a pleasant side-effect

Teaching Amma how to drive did something else. It made us good friends. There have always been great conversations between us, but they have been few and far in between. Either she became too much of a worried, pissed mother or I turned too fast into a tantrum-throwing, impatient listener of a son. But with driving, it was different. Neither of us was good enough to be teaching the other, nor were we in a position to not learn how to drive. And I think that got us together. We both were eager to learn, scared that we might cause harm to somebody else but also utter novices when it came to being able to manouver a car. We corrected each other, complimented each other, reprimanded each other, laughed off at mistakes and almost always were more worried riding shortgun than when handling the mantle.

I'm proud of Amma for learning to drive at her age, pushing hard at the apprehensions and fears she's harboured for a long time. I'm proud of her determination, her willingness to learn and her mental strength to give a go at something every morning despite at one point, plummeting progressively. Now, she drives alone in rush hour traffic. And I'm proud of her. I just hope that some day I'll make her as proud as I am today.

But I'm digressing. Because this is not about what she or I achieved alone. This is about what we forged together. Thanks to our long drives together, we speak a lot. About life in general because I think she's exasperated and given up on asking me what I am planning to do in life. I'm hoping she trusts me to end up somewhere nice and safe. So, we talk about everything else. She tells me what she's learned from her mistakes, she tells me about her Ammamma-Thatha, her childhood, her dreams and ideas. I tell her about what I think of this and that, talk her into listening a few instrumental songs, tell her about the film ideas I have and I talk about love. About future. And also about how clueless I am. All credit to her because she listens patiently and uncomplainingly to her son's long, egoistic speeches.

Now that she'll start driving alone from next week, we won't be talking as much as we've been. But I think that the foundation has been laid. We've progressed from being just another mother-son to being good friends. We'll talk. We'll learn together. She'll hand me over the old, seasoned principles learnt from experience. I'll return new, fresh ideas brimming with naivety and hope. And we'll make a pact together with life. Yet another mother-son learning how to live, together.

Notes of a rookie filmmaker- Part I

From the sets of Based on a True Story

Here is my first film ever.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Based on a True Story.

I've worked on the movie for about 10 days, spread across 40. Its been an amazing learning experience, great amount of fun and something substantial I've managed to accomplish. Actually, its for the first time in my life that I've worked as hard as I have on this film, putting in copious amounts of energy to try to make my first film as good as possible. I know it could've been better, way better but then I'm pretty glad that I actually put together something instead of dreaming about it. I thought it'd go viral, had the lip sync been better, but then the reaction has been lukewarm at best. People have been telling me that I dragged it a tad too long, the conversations were boring, and the ending too abrupt. They also have been telling me that the acting has been top notch ( all credit to the actors ), the cinematography good and the subject, pretty interesting. I've been listening, digesting, analyzing, accumulating all those remarks and suggestions. I'll do best for my next film without compromising on my core ideology of how I think that film ought to be. Popularity is one end of the spectrum and I want people to like my film. But more importantly, I want to make a film that I'd like to watch sometime in the future. Period.

I've encountered a lot of situations while making the film which have taught me something about the process of filmmaking and the role of the director.

1. Clarity- The first scene we shot was the one where Ankith and Deekshith are entering the cafe. I took the script out, saw there were no dialogues, told them to walk into the cafe and started looking into the eyepiece.  Only to find that they were waiting for my instructions. They wanted to know how exactly they were to enter, from where, conveying what mood and where to stop. I hadn't thought of it. I had just dreamt of them entering the cafe and wrote it down. My first lesson was this- I could not be vague. I had to be clear of what I wanted, why I wanted it and had to give specific instructions to my actors. My lack of clarity cropped up in  quite a few situations where they were asking why I wanted to do a shot only that way. I had to be ready to explain. I undestood that my actors have to convinced of my actions and comprehend why their characters were behaving the way they were. Because if they don't, they won't have enough conviction to bring out their best.

2. Detail- Every inch of the frame should be filled. And filled with stuff related to the shot. And should take the story forward. Attention to detail is something I've learnt while making the film. No unnecessary object should be seen, nothing that takes away the attention can be allowed and whatever is seen has to sync in with the story. The position of the hand when the last shot was cut, the hair growth between the days of shoot, the shadow of the cameraman, the modulation while re-recording that has to go hand in hand with the expression; nothing is inconsequential. And knowing how to fill the frame without being superfluous nor wanting is something that I have to learn soon.

3. Open to ideas- It is one thing walking in with a bound script and a set of ideas. When I was on the location, with two other people passionate about the film, ideas were bouncing off like crazy. We argued, convinced, fretted about and dissected every shot. Why should it be like this, what are we trying to convey, can there be a better way, will it fit in with the next shot. The energy can be contagious and it was, as we shot all through nights, till daybreak, oblivious to hunger, thirst and sleep, excited with what we were doing. But it was also important to realise that the best idea didn't have to necessarily fit into the film. Sometimes, Ankith proposed a shot that was brilliant, or Deekshith produced a modulation that was emphatic. But I had to convince them that though the isolated action was truly outstanding, it didn't exactly fit into the jigsaw. But there were a lot of ideas that were incorporated making those scenes better than I envisioned them to be.

4. Director just takes the credit for all the ideas bouncing on the set- Every scene has had contributions from all those who were on the set. And they've made the film better, richer, deeper. I just get to take the credit all alone. All criticism to me is justifiable because I'm calling the shots, taking the decision but a lot that is good is actors and friends contributing.

5. Filmmaking is a lot of Hardwork- And all that work is liberating. And its an insane amount of fun. We've laughed like crazy on the sets while shooting, doing take after take, ignoring sleep and thirst just to bring out the best we could have. For the first time in my life, I knew why I was doing something, the result was there for me to see, just beyond my reach, urging, pushing, teaching and inspiring me. I loved every moment I spent on working for this film, spending upto 20 hour days while re-recording and editing, doing the best I could have. For the first time all my life, I understood the meaning of loving my work, so much so that I want to make more films because it fills me with a zest to live.

6. It is important to refine the script. And work over it again. And again- Something I learnt from the audience. Just because I find something interesting, doesn't mean everyone has to. And just because the audience cannot accept it, I cannot cheat myself into making a film that I don't like and respect. And so the middle path. Tell what I want to in a way the audience is willing to listen. Like one of the characters in the film says, "Approach change."

7. You start observing every sound, image, film. Try to dissect and understand it- Since I've started making this film, I've been more and more critical of every film that I've been watching. Understanding why the director chose to make the film the way it turned out to be. Understanding how background score elevates the scene, when a great looking shot does not stand out of the script, and see how the writer ensures that the point is driven forward without the characters seeming too contrived. Ultimately, I've been trying to understand how the filmmaker manages to put together piece after piece, string it with music, maintain consistency with the visuals, collaborating with the cast and the crew, ensure the script does not falter or fall off and use jagged pieces to weave a cohesive picture that so closely resembles life.

8. It is important to make not what you can but what you want- The most important lesson I've learnt. I can make a film, right from my comfort zone. But if the process of filmmaking does not challenge me, inspire me, help me grow, evolve, make me think and feel better, if I'm not investing my heart and soul in every one of its shots, then I'm not truly making what I've dreamt of. This movie has taught me the basics of photography, the act of man management, how to use adobe premiere, and how to strum that basic chord pattern among others. I maybe able to cheat my viewers but I cannot deceive myself and proclaim to the world that I've put in all that I could've. Wtih Based on a True Story, I haven't done that. I've hardly put in my 50%. There's so much more I could've done. But there's nothing I can do to change that now. All I can do is promise myself that I'll make a better film next time around.

Reality is an illusion. Dreams are real. And films are the closest we can come to comprehending reality.

This post has a follow-up.

to stay inspired

"Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans."
- John Lennon

That line inspired me after a long time to move my lazy bum into action. Inspiration is the key to everything. And when people lack it, despite having everything else, what they're doing won't be a labour of love. I love the way Agassi's flabbergasted at Sampras' lack of emotion regarding tennis. Tennis to Sampras is a job. He does not need inspiration to do it well. What surprises Agassi more his lack of need for inspiration. But it feels true, somehow. That inspiration strikes only once in a while. What pulls us day in and day out, has us slog uncomplainingly and helps us grow is our diligence to the cause.

Preparation, perseverance, practice can be mundane.Regularity and consistency can be uninspiring. But they also can be reassuring. They're the traits of people, who like Zen monks, understand that repetition is a myth, that every moment is different. It is important to realise that the  greatest of edifices are not built overnight, but by capitalising on that one moment of inspiration, and to put brick over brick for years to attain the grand structure of our dreams.

It is refreshing to understand that you don't have to be inspired every moment to attain something spectacular. Or maybe, understanding this fact is inspiration enough.

Andala Rakshasi

Andala Rakshasi could have been a masterpiece. With the premise it had, that of a triangular love story between metaphorical Earth, Sun and the Moon as explained by the director, it could have been one of the greatest love stories portrayed on screen. The vision was magnificent, the execution not so much. Its hard to criticize films these days now that I'm working on making one myself. I understand its not easy. But I also realise that that's what the fun is all about. Steven D Katz succinctly explains what exactly goes through the mind of a filmmaker and what his motivating factor is when he says that a filmmakers' pursuit is not to transfer the vision in his head onto the screen but instead, while working towards a blurry vision, discover what exactly he set out to create.

Two artists and a spellbinding woman. The quiet intensity of the characters is palpable below the surface. For some reason, the director decides against dwelling deeper into the minds and hearts of the protagonists. Gowtham is probably the only character that has any depth in character but though Rahul tries, he is simply not experienced enough to bring out the kind of controlled madness that defines his character. Surya is much more on-your-face, less complex and is portrayed quite well by Naveen. Now, Mithuna. The woman who spellbinds two solitary, intense artists, a musician and a painter, is got to be somebody who is capable of doing that. She is beautiful, innocent though hardly any more layered than a conventional heroine. Mithuna is a great woman but sadly, Lavanya Tripathi is so gorgeous herself, such a fine performer that the actor turns more intriguing than the character. It is a pleasure watching her draped in yellows and reds, with a lush green background and listening to Radhan play truly astounding music. The weakness of the film is that it has set extremely high standards for itself in some areas and is wanting in others.

Simply put, Andala Rakshasi has a gob smacking storyline, amazing music, a truly beautiful heroine and eye-widening visuals. Hanu Raghavapudi had an amazing vision and hats off to him for that. The freshness that the film carries is intoxicating. And the reason it fails is because of rather innocuous factors: amateur acting, a misleading trailer and the first 20 minutes or so that could have been a little less confusing. The film is a lot like its characters- They do whatever they are doing rather well but seem to have no idea why they are doing it in the first place. I loved watching it, though I was saddened that the guy who had such a brilliant idea couldn't rise to that level himself. Imagine, two artists in pursuit of one girl. Intensity, unpredictability, rage, love and genius. Those factors should have shaped their love story. I'd have loved to see their personal space, understand why they couldn't help but love the girl and what they were going through within themselves to comprehend their madness. It could've been a film to die for. But that's fine. Raghavapudi's given me a film to live for and watch it over and over again.

--

Talk eloquence.
Hanu Raghavapudi's brilliant interview.

daily check-in, lol

Its been a long weekend. Strange. But its been eventful. 3 great movies- Ananthapuram 1980, Premalo Padithe and Eega. Test driving cars. A long, wonderful conversation with Rahul, Vivek and Gattu at Ashok. Reading The Perfect Storm and The Blizzard. Listening to Mychael Danna and Hans Zimmer. Riding extensively across the city in fair and foul whether. And writing, feeling the bumps made by the pen, seeing my hand churn out intricately shaped a's and t's, listening to the pattering of the rain. Its been an eventful weekend. There's nothing else to write apart from this really. We spoke about the current organizational structure. About how flat hierarchy and calling the boss by his first name is just bullshit. We spoke about why it is important to truly believe in the work you are allotted to do. And I decided that when one day I'll have a company, I'll treat it truly like a company of people. People who don't work for a paycheck but who work because we share the vision. Because they too, like me, want to do something because we understand, endorse and believe in our goal. I should go get some sleep. Its been a long weekend.

Dreamweaver

There are some people out there in the world who, because of their immense knowledge, demand respect. Demand is a harsh word. But that's the best I can find now. I'm not talking intelligence. I'm talking Knowledge, which for me is a culmination of intelligence and experience. That brings the charisma. Dr. JP is so approachable, so magnanimous with his patience and so convincing in his explanations that the first time I spoke to him for a considerable amount of time, I turned into a huge fan of his. Luckily, I've met some people like him. Venkat, for one, is every man's dream boss. And Amogha would nod in consent. He never micromanaged, never ordered around, never roused fear or insecurity. Instead, he was a constant presence, fusing confidence. Urging us to move forward and that he would take care of everything trailing behind. Rajiv, maybe a little harsh sometimes, but I love his careless demeanor. Maybe HN Lakshmi should join that list too. Her presence wasn't comforting but she was fair in her criticism and judgement and that's something I always look for in an inspiration. Ragini Atha for her sheer humility. For so simply stating that you don't have to be right all the time. Bhavana Rao is amazing company. She taught me the difference between being rude and being strict. I totally love the she can evoke respect, fear and admiration interchangeably. I haven't found anybody like that in my office yet. The other people I just spoke about seemed to love what they were doing so much that they didn't feel a need to prove a point. They were imposing yes, oozing with life and energy, but never cruel or loud. On the other hand, the people I associate myself daily with give me the impression that I'm doing this because I don't want to fail/ be blamed/ lose this job. There's something truly divine about people passionate about their jobs. And that is what gives us jitters when we hear Jobs talk, or Messi dart or SPB sing. I just found a term for this phenomenon. Mr. CM Reddy, who I've never met and who I spoke for the first time ever, a high intensity talk of about half an hour on topics like Corporate Agriculture, Co-Operative initiatives, passion, decentralization of economic strongholds, respect for farmers and creating a sustainable economy at the village level. Amidst all this, Mr Reddy said, "Don't fool yourself by saying that you want to do it for the poor. You aren't doing them a favour. You're doing whatever you're doing because it's your Moksha Path. Somebody wants to be an Engineer, somebody a Bar Dancer and you want to do this. Simple."  I fell in love with the term, Moksha Path. I was hitting along with him so well and the moment he uttered that phrase, I was floored. An half hour conversation with him is the reason for this post. Conversations are elixir and he injected life back into me. Like I was saying earlier, some people have it in them to inspire others. I don't really want to comment on somebody else but I have a feeling that if some people look back and see what they'd done in the past fifteen years of their lives, see if they've evolved in any way, inspired somebody, been worshiped by a teenager, laughed and cried uncontrollably, they'd treat their juniors in a much better fashion. About two weeks ago, we were having a team lunch and somebody suddenly asked what each of ours' dream was. I thought I'd say something to please them but then before I knew it, I uttered, " I want to be the man who's seen life. Who's slept on footpaths and the costliest of hotels. Who's dined with paupers and pampered adults. Who's lived in a group and who understands solitude. I want to be the man who quotes and is worth quoting. I want to be the man who's truly lived. Summing it up, I want to be most interesting guy I know. Somebody who can entertain audience in dinner table conversations all night long. I want to be that guy." I'm not sure who understood but for the first time in my life, I cohesively answered to myself what exactly I want. I want to inspire kids into moving out of their pseudo-secure places to see and cherish the world out there. I want to be a storyteller. I want to be a dreamweaver.

Shock of the century

Its been one long, long day. Started off on a pissed note that I woke up so late. Its 1.30 in the night and I'm still up, listening to Mayakkam Enna BGM and writing about how long a day its been. But the shock of the century came when I was riding in the rush hour traffic in Bazaar Ghat and Kishore told me about Raghav and his love. Shocker. Not in my wildest dreams that it did seem to be that Raghav, Palabugga, was capable of something like this. Took a long time sinking in. But I'm really happy about it. I love the way he's talking about her. Shy, nervous, giggly, and really happy. There's nothing like it. A girl to call my own. Pretty wonderful actually .Thanks to his love story, I'm revisiting my own. Feels good.


Balki's right about Ilaiyraja. His background scores are pieces of sheer genius. I love the way backgroundscore.com analyzes background scores and tries to convey their meaning. The brilliance of background score lies in its subtlety. To elevate the scene without being noticed. To live inconspicuously in the background until deliberately brought into the spotlight. Raja and Rahman are masters of the craft. But I have to admit I fell deeply in love with BGMs of Mayakkam Enna and 3. 3 is an extremely romantic album, like it ought to be, obviously. Anirudh's done an amazing job. I had a feeling that it was heavily Western music influenced, baroque sometimes, but I'm just a novice when it comes to music genres. Every note in the music score of 3 is like an ode to the madness of love. And I like it better in Tamil. One, because it makes more sense musically. And two, importantly,  because I can avoid Roop Kumar Rathod's pathetic pronunciation. I love listening to Kannazhaka with her, especially the intro violin part. Been finding some extremely addictive pieces of music on Youtube- Canon in D, Mahaganapatim, O Re Chiraiya, Jurassic Park theme and Carnatic Titanic OST.


Thanks to Raghav coming back, life's getting more exciting. Now I realize what I'd been missing all along. Those totally carefree times with friends. And I know all of us are rejuvenated because it seems like the good old times now that all of us are together here again. The vibes are catching up. Lots of interesting movies coming up. Sakuni, Oka romantic crime katha, Viswaroopam and Andala Rakshasi. Mouth-watering prospects. That's really about it for now. 


But Raghav, shocker ra!

the stallion of my dreams

I've always believed that knowledge is tangential. We learn something not because we want to learn it but as a derivative of something we are doing. Maybe that is why I've never truly understood the concept of modern education system. Children are told to study hard and study well so that they can live off it happily ever after. Get for themselves a lucrative career. Fortunately or otherwise, I've been pampered enough not to be forced to study. Right from my childhood, my family has never forced me into putting in so many hours on books before I went to sleep. They might've been saddened by my mediocre or sometimes even sub par performance, but they never let me know it. And thanks to that, I've always been a free spirit in pretty much everything I've ever chosen to do. No philosophy imbibed into me, no set of rules forced upon me. I've been told that somethings are good, some bad and some are to be done to be accepted by the society. And I've also been taught to respect the things I have because a lot of people in the world would love to trade places with me. I've tried respecting all that I've had at my disposal. Not always, maybe. But I try. I don't really like my job nor does it fill me with any kind of enthusiasm but I'm trying to meet its demands because I get paid to do it and money is important to me. Apart from that, since I've signed up for it, its some sort of a duty I have to perform. Dharma. And like Bujji mama told me, there's something to be learned everywhere. Even if you don't like the job, study it, understand it, see how it works. Maybe it'll help you somewhere, sometime in your life. I liked it. Thatha always taught me to read every scrap of paper I came across; Right from the pamphlet on the road to the make do packet the rice crispies seller makes. I don't really care if it ends up being useful but I like being informed. Well atleast, it comes off as a good show off on a dinner table.

So, basically, I've read what I wanted to. Done what I wanted to. Traveled where I wanted to. Learnt what I wanted to. If anything's ever prevented me from doing something, its my laziness or apprehension. And like Yann Martel once wrote to Stephen Harper, "Both of us know fear and slothfulness lead us nowhere. Great achievements only come through courage and hardwork." Its easier quoting inspiring stuff than following them. Anyway, back to the point. Thanks to that sort of an upbringing, now I can't get myself to do something I truly don't endorse. I can't take orders. I can be argued with, convinced, but cannot work on something just for the sake of it; Just because somebody's told me to do it. So, maybe, my way is not the right way. In search of knowledge in a wayward path. But I'm okay with it. Because I don't have anyone else to blame if I fail. Infact, I won't ever fail because I've never even raced. I've just been free running, the way the I want to, choosing my own path, my own obstacles and my ingenious ways of overcoming them. One day, I might hit upon a sudden realization that the conventional way is the right way. Maybe that will be my Eureka moment. And people might look at me and say, what a life wasted; He could've done so much instead of trying to reinvent the wheel. But I'll still be happy because I haven't blindly followed somebody else's ideologies. I've listened foremost to my instinct, respected my intuition and let my inherent spirit guide me. But I truly believe life is to be experimented with. All of us shouldn't be taught the same thing, the same way because we are not all the clones of each other.

Imagination is the most important virtue of them all. Let people dream. Let people understand. Let people carve their own paths. All of us are eventually heading towards the creator of cosmos. Why not dance and sing, and enjoy the journey while we are doing it. Why shouldn't we be allowed to fall, fail, get up and dance again. Ammamma tells me, every man should vouch for an ideology and live with it till his end. I don't really understand it. When I'm changing every moment, why should I do something just because it was decided by me when I was not what I' now. Maybe she's right. But I want to know it myself. Reinvent the wheel, maybe. What we truly ought to learn has already been imbibed in our DNA. Everything else is superfluous. And there's always destiny to set us on our right path. Maybe that is why I dream mostly of open fields, a hut, poetry and the woman of my life. I dream. I let my spirit guide me. I free the reins and I see where it takes me. The destination is unknown. But the journey is fun.

Bringing back the crazy abandon

Every moment I'm living, I'm breathing, every action I perform, I want it to be a deliberate effort. I don't want to sleepwalk through life anymore. I want to be spent, exhausted, exulted every night before I fall into a deep slumber. I want to fall into a deep slumber, been ages since I've slept as wistfully as I want to. Thanks to The James Franco Project. Thoroughly inspiring to know that a man is capable of such high levels of metabolism. I think its an amazing feeling. Knowing that you've given life the best you could've and then tucking into sleep at the end of the day. Enough dreaming, talking, fantasizing. I want to throw myself with crazy abandon at whatever life offers me. Waiting for the right springboard to take the leap is keeping me rooted to Earth. I have to make do with whatever is being thrown at me. There's so much I want to do. I have no clue what I've been waiting for all along. Cribbing, crying, complaining, hoping for somebody else to pull me out of the muck. If I don't work all day at work and get fucked up the next day, its my fault. And I'm gonna have to get scorned for it. The equation's pretty simple. There's so-fucking-much to do and what am I even doing. Its all romantic dreaming. Holy shit. Run, strum, write, stroke, climb, code, yell, laugh, fall, jump. What am I waiting for? I promised right here that I'd post a piece of fiction every month. I haven't started yet on this month's quota but I'm going to post it. Sure will. Life's like a long line of dominoes. You push the right ones and the right things are going to fall. One wrong push and before you know it, you have an unwanted heap that'll take some work to clear off. Its easier pushing dominoes that is easier cleaning up the mess. But what all you get, depends on what you push. Karma. That's really about it then.
Peace.

whatever

I have nothing to write. I'm writing because I've vowed to. Because I've decided to post something now. So what should I write about? Office is getting a little better, I've recently watched Batman Begins and The Dark Knight again, and that's about it really. Yea, playing FIFA 08. Bored to hell. I don't want to talk about the other proceedings in my life. I can't post that stuff that's far too personal nor can I stand a long time without telling the world I'm still alive, still trying to write. I'm stuck between Paripoornananda's Bhagad Gita, Chaganti's Hanumath Mahatyam and Nolan's Dark Knight, Advaita's Gates of Dawn. The unplugged version is brilliant. I'm stuck between watching Midhunam, reading Sri Ramana and reading Garcia Marquez, WhatIsStephenHarperReading.ca. Weird fuck. Why am I even posting? The kind of insecurity web's built into me is amazing. Anonymity is virtually nonexistent, being ignorant is not an option and if I don't post stuff atleast once a fortnight, or check my mail and facebook atleast three times a day, I start getting nervous about what I'll be leaving behind. Nobody's pushing me. Apart from the fear that tomorrow I might cease to exist and not leave anything substantial for people to talk about me. How foolish. People won't remember me for a long time anyway, why should they and even if they do how will it help me? Why do I want to chronicle my emotions and anxieties for my kids to read. Rahul Ram talks about Asheem's death and he says, "People didn't pay much attention to Asheem's absence. In a way its comforting because we'll still manage the live acts without him. But its scary that nobody cares if you are there or not." Anonymity scares the shit out of people. People want to be remembered, quoted and believe that their loved ones won't cease thinking about them. Ignorance. Now I realize why people turned to fiction. Its much easier portraying emotions, letting out insecurities and fantasies when you are masked. When people cannot differentiate between fiction and truth.

Some visuals in The Dark Knight are genius. Especially the scene where joker walks out of his battered truck, or the scene where he walks away with Lau and is riding in the Police car, with his head out. Or maybe its the background score. Haunting. Some stunning visuals.

Nothing else.

"I put myself in the script"

"I would rather lose playing good football than win playing mediocre stuff."

- Tele Santana

The one thing common between mediocre and great is playing in the first place. To play mediocre stuff, I have to play. To try playing great stuff, I have to play. How could I have missed that. Lots of unfinished business. Been a long time since I've been here. Scribbling down notes, jotting down inspiration but finding excuses not to be converting them into posts. Anyway, why should I post? Why should I publish? That's one thing I've pondered over and over again since I've started posting. Initially, readers' response was a huge motivating factor. When people told me I wrote well, I tried writing better. Though the need to impress superseded the need to improve. But then later on, that oozed away. Especially during the dark days when I wrote with so much more conviction than I can muster now. When all doors closed shut, this turned into my pathway of expression. Like the light at the end of the tunnel. The opening was the only direction in which I could run. Run, I did. And when I look back now, I'm surprised at what I've achieved during those days. Not much of an achievement maybe but something I'll look back to, when I turn 60.

"When somebody tells you something is wrong with your piece, they are mostly right. But when they tell you what exactly it is, they are mostly wrong."

That brings me right back onto the tracks. Why do I write now? Preserving thoughts and ideas is one explanation. And it is mostly true. I like memories. Looking back at life is at once a curse and a boon but then like Garcia Marquez said, "Life is not what one lived, but what one remembers and how one remembers it in order to recount it." That is what exactly art does. Everything that I've ever considered art is something that transports me through time. Like my girl's smile. Genius. But this post isn't about all this. This post is just a reminder that I write. A medley of quotes I've remembered now and again when I'm riding back from office. 

I like writing. More often than not. Sometimes the noun becomes far too important than the verb. I like looking at myself as one of those purists who quote "art for art's sake" but I think if somebody truly believed in that credo, they wouldn't be telling it to people. They'd be far too happy pursuing the art. It's an important question to ask. And probably one the oldest ones. When I'm reading a book, am I doing it because I want to read a book or because I want to know a story? There's quite some difference between the two. But why do I ask these questions? I don't know. Maybe because I'm wired this way. Whatever.

अगर बच्चे काबिल हो,समझदार हो तो कमाके क्या फ़ायदा? और अगर बच्चे काबिल नहीं हो, समझदार नहीं हो तो फिर कमाके क्या फ़ायदा? 

-Amitabh Bachchan in Sharaabi

I fell in love with that line the only time I heard it. Nothing much left to say. Apart from that I should write more often. I don't want to stay rusty like this forever. Its a real pain having to push myself because I've been away this long. But I'm planning to publish a fiction piece every month. That's not much of a goal and I've never really written fiction but I want to give it a shot. Lots of unfinished pieces. Lots of ideas in my head, in my notepad. I just want to get them out of my system so that I can move onto other ideas. Hoping I'll write more regularly. Guitar's stuck and I'm trying my hand at C++/Linux now. Lots of things pending in my to-do list and I've been playing fifa all weekend. Maybe I should try Leo Babauta's idea of not trying to change too many habits at once. 

"It is important to work on your weaknesses but more so to work on your strengths."

-Javagal Srinath?

So why do I publish? The above reasons are valid enough, yes, but again that's not it. I believe all of us create art, anything that we truly believe in, because we want to change the world. In any small way that we can. We put forth ideas so that we can validate them with what the world thinks about it. The world in our heads is differently calibrated from worlds in every other head. And the fact that we put forth ideas, in any form, is just a small effort in trying to tell the world what exactly is going on inside this brilliant mess. I publish because I want to be read, to be commented on, to be corrected, to be challenged, to be accepted and to rejuvenate. And because I want to tell the world what goes on in that fuzzy head of mine.

I can't come up with a title

What a stunningly crafted movie Hyderabad Blues is. I'm surprised I never got around to watching it in full despite it being 1. based on Hyderabad, 2. Nagesh Kukunoor's first movie, and 3. India's first Indie movie. Oh! boy I love it. And it brings me great nostalgia, for an Hyderabad that once existed, that I once knew and something I can't ever bring back. It let me peek into the lives of my uncles, who were among the immigrants before the Y2K, and the cost at which they left everything that they ever knew to arrive in the Land of Opportunity. Dollar Dreams and The Namesake have had that effect on me too. Leaving home is mandatory for every human. But everybody wants to leave home when they want to, not be pushed away. That is the pathetic truth of our times. I'm digressing. Elahe Hiptoola is a huge bomb in a small package. Its has been really long since I've seen an everyday woman look so carefree on the screen. Loved her.

Its been really long since I've wanted to write so badly. I know I ain't doing a great job but then that's because I'm rusty as hell. Even Garcia Marquez had to wake up everyday and type in stuff. What am I next to him, a mere mortal. Just found Agnee Manmani. Playing in my ears. Love it. Agnee has this knack of making music that is totally hum-mable unlike my other favourites. I'm so fucking confused. My life's in doldrums. Well and truly so. I don't know what I like, I don't know if this is right, I'm surprised at how boring adult life is, I am lazy as hell and I wish I could do something about it. Fuck, back to rants. This is probably the one thing that I do so well. I've been trying, emulating figures I like but it doesn't seem to be working out. So, I'll quit trying to be someone else and bring my old self back. Why the fuck am I turning into somebody I've always detested? Narcissistic. I want to write, a story, and I don't know what is stopping me. Growing up is such a pain. The independence is there but so are all the factors stopping you from enjoying it. No, not just the external ones. The much more powerful ones like responsibility, maturity, behaviour in the public and shit like that. And the great right to make excuses. You know what I mean. You would if you are stuck in the evolution of growing up. I don't know if my behaviour is acceptable. I don't know if I should change it. And I don't even know what acceptable is anyway.

There's all this furious energy about me that I'm turning outward. Maybe I should turn it inwards. Should answer a few questions. Anyway, where was I. Yea, growing up is such a pain. Every moment of life is a world in itself, every breathe contains miracles of the universe and every footprint of your existence has thousands of memories connected to it. Dreaming as a kid about the future is so much better than running away from the past as an adult is. Despite the good and the bad, past is scary. Either you want to change things or you know you can't be that you again. WTF. And why am I contemplating so much suddenly. I don't really know. But I'm fed up with my office, the kind of lifestyle I have right now, at the fact that I ain't doing anything that I want to, and for fuck's sake I can't stick to anything for more than a week. There was literature, music, work, rural development, travel and more shit. It is actually surprising how I manage to shelve everything, everything, that I start. And like all this fuck isn't enough, I crib about it up my blog. Well, on a positive note, all these bytes of memory will give some credibility to my existence. Like they say, it is better leaving shit behind than being totally forgotten. Like they say? Who the fuck is they? Ok, I just made that shit line up.

Writing down a To-Do list is easy. Following it is almost impossible, even though obviously, it contains all the things you've always wanted to do. It makes life worse. Not having an ambition is bearable. Having one and not working towards it is worse. I just wrote my 43Things last week or so. Not really ambitious but I want to get them done. Now, I know what I want to do, I know what will take me there and I also know that I need to start working towards some of them. And I still ain't. Does that make me deplorable? I don't know about that but it gets me depressed. All week I dream about the weekend and on the weekends, I dream about stuff I should be doing and condemning myself for not doing that. Amma thinks I need meditation. I think, I don't know. Am I abnormal? Or does everybody feel like this? All these super athletes, artists and others, how do they manage to do all they do? Love stuff after all these years. Find inspiration to wake up every morning to do the same thing that they've done all their lives, but a little differently, for the better. What do I lack? Ambition? Drive? Motivation? Or sheer indifference to life? The kind of shit I talk at work, my totally useless preaches that I'm known for, all this falls in front of my eyes. Whenever I look at myself from a third person point of view, I feel disgusted. And add to that, I found Eagleman's essay last week where what I understand of it is the fact that whatever you are, you are because of your DNA and you can do nothing about it. Sorta like Scientific version of Destiny.

Its been a long time since I've felt this shitty. All the time, I've wanted to be something, anything. Now, I am truly indifferent about it. I'm frivolous, easily distracted, shallow and truly a waste of God's greatest creation. Pretty similar to the life of Michael K. He was a genius though. He was able to drive away ambition from his thoughts. I want to read, I don't. I want to run, I don't. I want to play, I don't. They say there are doldrums before the storm arrives. My most optimistic self tells me, the storm arrives precisely because of the doldrums. They let the environment brew. I don't know how true that is, though I will soon enough.

Adios Dravid

Sport is a lot like life. Or is it the other way 'round? And nowhere does that seem truer to me than when India is playing down under, the first match in the MCG, knowledgeable crowds rubbing hands in expectation, two men with Blue helmets taking guard and McGrath running in. No, that does not stop people from working or does not have them gape their mouths open like they do when Messi creates magic or when Federer backhands cross court. No, Cricket is far too bland. Cricket does not stop life, it just resembles it. Test Cricket at that.

They say Cricket is the gentleman's game. I see Afridi, Akhtar, Symonds, Harbhajan, Sreesanth, Ponting, Flintoff when I watch a Cricket match. I have no reason to believe that Cricket is a gentleman's game. Gentleman, that Oxfordian word, that symbolizes dignity, tenacity, grace, charm, wit, intelligence and restrain. I have no reason to believe. Well, one reason. Maybe, five, yeah. I see Tendulkar, Kumble, Ganguly, Dravid, Laxman walk onto the ground. Ganguly might be an unusual choice. He might have been rude but never unfair. Fairness, Temperament and Commitment. Ganguly never lacked them. And passion too though he couldn't restrain or channel it like the other four among the Fab Five.

Fab Five. A term devised by romantics. People who try to will away time and reality out of the trance. There was once a time, not so long ago, when watching Indian Test Cricket was the best thing that could've given hope to a billion people of this nation. All that is changing. Indian Cricket will soon cease to be the wonderful oasis in the barren, unkind landscape of Political Cricket. It will not be a long time before I hear the retirement speeches of Tendulkar and Laxman. And I know I will choke up in tears when the I see the last of Fab Five retire. They've given me all my childhood memories.

I wish I could revert back in time. Maybe then I'll respect the time Fab Four are batting or when the warrior disguised as a bowler bowled incessantly. Watching Dravid walk in at No. 3 was one of the few truly assuring things in life. A Dravid late cut will always be that. A Dravid focus does not have a synonym. And watching Dravid sweat away bucketfuls, digging in taught me what character, temperament, patience, focus, commitment and ambition are. There was a time I adored Dravid for his grace, maturity and humility. I'm proud of it.

I'm a romantic too. It'll be The Fab Five, forever.

On sensitivity among other issues

Its been a long time since I've been so mesmerised about a movie much less write about it. Malligadu joins the elite list of brilliant films that have come out of Tamil Cinema in the last decade. What a breathtaking decade it has been for Tamil Cinema. Oh! boy am I jealous? Actors like Dhanush, Jeeva, Karthi, Aadhi and so many more I haven't had the privilege to see yet. Directors of the calibre of SelvaRaghavan, Ameer, Balaji Sekthivel, Bala, Samy, Gowtham Menon, Sasi Kumar, Samuthirakani and I'm just looking at the tip of the iceberg. But no, this isn't just about Kollywood. Or great cinema. This is also about audience. This is about the power of a community as a whole to be mature, considerate, open and appreciative enough to true genius.


If you have seen Malligadu, you'll understand what I'll be talking about. If you haven't watched it yet, and if you believe you have the ability to be open to great cinema, I suggest you watch it. If for nothing else, for Priyamani. What an actor. Nobody made me flinch like that ever. No other women. And if I hadn't known that this was Karthi's first cinema, I might have under appreciated his intellectual and emotional quotient for pulling Malligadu off. Kamal in Swathimuthyam, Rajni in Dalapathi, Chiranjeevi in Aapathbandhavudu, Suriya in Sivaputrudu, Hirsch in Into the Wild, Warsi in Munnabhai, Akshaye in Dil Chahta Hai, Crowe in the Cinderella Man and now Karthi in Malligadu. There's no great acting skills for display out there, no need for genius. They are truly earnest characters and pulling that off is much harder.


I have nothing more to say. Watch the movie and please don't walk off during the last fifteen minutes citing reasons as varied as "I'm sensitive", "I can't bear to watch it", "There was no need for it", "WTF" and "Its frustrating". And no, all these excuses are not made up. Ameer, I'm getting back to you again soon.

G Major

I've been getting pretty frustrated everyday while returning from office. Cribbing and complaining. Wanted to yell at the world today up here but somehow, suddenly, all that rage is gone. The moment I realised nobody can change my life apart from me, I STFU, took my guitar out and started strumming. I jotted down a list of to-do things too and I hope I'll start ticking them off soon. Adios then, my guitar's waiting.

the dumbest species on the planet

Its been a long time since I've been this free. I'm not exactly relaxed because I have a 36 question Java Assignment to finish but work is still 18 or so hours away and I'm going to finish it sooner or later. No worries there. Reading The Hindu Literary Review has been one of the few things I've done regularly and somehow reading it now feels nostalgic. For all the good times passed by? I don't know. Listening to TheShruthiBox, opening windows of the blogs I follow, I feel, what's the right word, comfortable for being in my zone where I do not have to meet deadlines or compete with anyone just to keep a job. Not that job's been bad, its been more fun than I could've asked for but I wish the learning wasn't this formal. I'm a firm believer in the whole idea of Tangential Learning and I all my life have learned more when somebody wasn't looking over my shoulder.

Chomsky calls all of us Consumers. Its the best possible word to describe the urban population of this world. We work our asses off to sell products and make enough money to buy the products somebody else is scrapping his ass off to sell. Is this all worth it? I don't know. But I'd rather spend my time doing stuff I want to and not buy enough time and money to do all that I want to later. Maybe its impractical. Maybe I'm just a dreamer. Or maybe I'm just a lazy bum who just talks shit. All of them are partly true. But its not as easy as some people tell you it is. That if you really love something, you'll make time for it despite everything. I'm questioning the whole basis of the idea. Shouldn't we as humans, with tastes, emotions, hobbies and ideas spend most of our time doing what we want to do than curbing all those instincts and make more money which will eventually ruin our children.

Have you ever felt really happy for having bought a real good television or a toaster. Its when you watch great sport or when you devours every slice of a great toast that happiness engulfs you. The whole idea of ambition, higher pedestal, "what-will-become of you" and "you-will-repent-later" kills people. You are talking about me repenting later. Nobody gives a shit about me repenting now for not being able to do what I so want to spend my time doing. I don't want to be the greatest human mankind has ever seen. I don't even care about it. And like I hurt a lot of people last week when I said that I didn't give a shit about medals or degrees, they don't really matter to me. Maybe like my family points out, I'm naive and I don't really know how unkind the world can get and I understand their need to keep me protected but I want to know what I'm working for. Why I'm spending time doing what I'm doing. I like my job but I don't like the restrictions that come surrounding it. I want to learn the way I want to, what I want to and how I want to. And again, if I don't want to be anything, if I'm not ambitious to show the world what I'm worth, I want to be left alone. Like Rabbi points out, We are human beings. We don't have to become something, we can just be. And Coetzee's Michael K is a genius in disguise. Nothing bothers him. He's unperturbed. Sleeping wistfully for 20 hours everyday. Sure, I'm depending on the society for all my needs and wants and shouldn't I return all that I've taken. I agree. But I'm talking about the whole of humanity. Why the need to get faster, better, more efficient. We build airplanes that are safer, faster and more intelligent so that we can travel in them and work on airplanes to make them much more faster and safer. Why isn't anybody asking the fundamental questions. I was recently reading a Tim Harford article where he talks about Science growing by leaps and bounds every day that people having generic knowledge are an extinct species. For everything in life we have specialists. I'm talking about The Jack of all, Master of none species and I don't want to be a part of the mad race to comfort and happiness. How much money is enough money? What is security? And why, why are we so unhappy and tensed all the time. I've heard enough of finding happiness in whatever you are doing. I'm talking about finding happiness in doing what makes you happy.

People have always had responsibilities. The need to be a part of the society. And in one of Gladwell's books, he talks about a 18th century town in the United States, full of Italian population where people were devoid of disease. They had families and responsibilities too. And when he tried finding the reason for this, he found out they were devoid of disease because they were happy. They were people who had time for friends, families, could indulge in their passions, worked together, drank together, laughed at each other, did not have to follow an etiquette to please anybody, and yet like any human, they strove for happiness, personal perfection and knowledge. Maybe there lies the key. We don't really care about knowledge anymore. We are so busy answering the trivial questions that we don't care about the most important of questions. What about God? And life? And the reason for our existence? We don't know our collective history, the diversity of the world we live in, the power of the human mind and the secrets of our religions. We do not care about fate and our collective future. We are so proud being intelligent that wisdom has turned into an unused word. We are people obsessed with efficiency that we have developed tunnel visions.

Both theologically and Darwin-ically, our existence as a human is to evolve into something higher than what we've been in our past lives. But we live life like we're going to hang around here forever and the whole point of our lives is to buy, sell and curse. We live everyday like there will be time to live later on, bending down and slaving away, and by the time we look up to see if we've arrived, we're all alone, burning on our funeral pyre.