Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The koward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"
                     oscar wilde , the ballad of reading gaol







When was the last that I thought of you...I know not...but am I the one who goes alone on this path...and should I but care only a little for the souls that follow or those as march ahead?

Mode C is a way of life, perhaps my way of life: C for Cool, C for Cold, C for Chaos, C for Calvin. Ultimately, all of it boils down to the way you look at things. Are they not how they are but just how they appear?? No...and yes...Almost all the seriously critical fundamental concepts of life...aren't they just the bogies under Calvin's bed that he is afraid of? Miss Wormwood, Susie, Mom and Dad, and of course above all, Hobbes...aren't they all merely the means that he uses to attack these bogies?

Reflecting on 'living the Calvin way', I have started to believe that life and our reaction to it can only be explained by a number of Calvin and Hobbes strips combined together. The philosophy, as I like to call it, is to know that you are not alone. It is not just my perspective alone that is going to help me fight my bogies. I will be able to inch towards the Calvin way only when I perceive the other perspectives on my way.



   
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Thursday, January 06, 2005
Yana Gupta Part 2 and What's in a Name...

I had joined the Backwaters committee with a lot of plans, to make possible an event that shall be remembered for a long time in IIM K. There were so many things and so much enthusiasm in the initial days but somehow, all of that petered off when it was time to do something to achieve the objectives. The reasons were many, the least of them being any work load due to the academic curriculum in IIMK. I was not really bothered if I had to lose out on a few grade points but more important for me was the feeling of involvement that is so necessary for me to give my best. It may have been misunderstandings, it may have been the truth but I started feeling that a lot of us committee members were not really required and this put me off enough to isolate myself from whatever little was happening on this front.

But as it has been on past occasions, sense caught up with me at last and in view of another edition of the fest where I might be able to fulfil my promising promises, I got involved, rather involuntarily, in this year's Backwaters. Vikhyat's enthusiasm and his never-say-die fundaes played a very important role in the transition, of course and here I was, willing to cut a little flab off for Backwaters 2005.

With hardly any effort having gone in so far from the side of many of us, it was time to hunt for some money. The local sponsors, though not big fish(es), were a good enough avenue to knock around and the Junior Backwaters team divided itself into three groups to tap as much of the local pool as possible. Qanynat (also known as Qayamat :-)) and I started off with the Archies' Gallery, but with not much luck. The next stop was the adjoining Louis Philippe showroom, which is where the first of the two strange events of the evening took place.

As we were ushered into the Manager's dingy and suffocating chamber, and Qaynat started explaining to the bespectacled, sunk-in-his-seat figure before us about the fest, I could hardly avoid noticing the open-mouthed admiration of the poor guy for Qaynat's Qayamati accent and her jeans and shirt clad self. Having spent his entire life in the strictly conservative Calicut society, he wouldn't have expected any girl to be this Qayamati :-)

The proof of all that I had been thinking for so long came soon enough...
Manager: Where are you from?
Qayamat: Sir, I...
Manager: Are you from India?
Qayamat:
Nitai:

Yes, we were left speechless, and as I tried hard to stop the big guffaw that was dying to escape from my mouth, I was just wondering what the others would have to say when I tell them the story. And they did have a lot to say...trying to make amends for Yana Gupta's not coming to grace Backwaters as per Vikhyat's plans. With Qayamat coming from outside India anyways, she might be, in all probability, Yana's sister and making her perform at Backwaters would perhaps makeup for Yana's absence:-)

Another interesting thing that happened was when we went to this jewellery shop called Malabar Gold. After explaining what we had come for, the managers/owners said that they do not sponsor anything but that they could give us donations for five hundred rupees or gifts worth about the same if we did not name them in the fest. I thought that I had heard it wrong and told them that of course, when we announce the prizes that they had sponsored, we would say that this prize is sponsored by Malabar Gold and so on...but that was when the bomb dropped...they said that if we do name them, they are not going to give us anything. Strange....very strange.

As we came out of the shop with the gifts tucked in our arms, we were childishly happy for the evening's work done and in that we were not returning empty-handed. There was a lot to do on campus, as well...with alternate day meetings and so much more to arrange/finalise before we can be confident of a good Backwaters '05...

Posted at 08:21 pm by Nitai

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Monday, January 03, 2005
Happy New Year!

Bombay, or Amchi Mumbai, as the locals call it lovingly and often with an awe-struck catch in their voice, is one of the cities that has its own memories for me. Not that I have been to this place many times, but despite the one time that I have been to Mumbai, the city haunts me whenever I am thinking of something fast and big, both at the same time. Having decided not to spend the new year in the train from home to IIMK, we (that is Aditya and me) had planned to make Mumbai the stopover for the night of the 31st and most of the day of the 1st. Aditya, of course, had his own plans of dumping me somewhere for the new year's but unfortunately, could not devise a suitable plan for the same in time.

The train journey from Varanasi to Mumbai CST, aboard the Mahanagri Express was mostly uneventful, and if you discount the time that we spent sleeping, there was hardly anything left. So it was that I and Aditya landed up in Mumbai and met up with Mitali. The three of us had a new year to celebrate and not much to choose from, in terms of venue or party or whatever else people engage in to announce the arrival of the new year.

Gateway was to be our first destination. During my first visit to Bombay in 2000 around the same time, I had spent hours staring at the sea (of not just water, but more importantly, the sea of humanity) from the Gateway of India, trying to recollect the numerous movie sequences shot there and trying to pry the secrets out of the hundreds that gather there almost every other night. Looking at the oh-so-famous Taj Hotel had been another pastime and as expected, there were laughs galore as I told the limited audience that I had on the 31st of December, 2004 of my plans to occupy the Executive Suite of the Taj one fine day.

One chance meeting with Ravi (who was going to spend the new years in a private party aboard a boat in the sea) and watching camera crews going berserk over the occasion later, we were all ready to move on to our next destination...but not before I had bought for myself, a nice little contraption which will make its entry in IIMK shortly.

While going to Juhu, there was this party by the sea which did not look too expensive from the outside but when we thought of finding out the ticket prices, we were in for a shock. We couldn't even gather the courage to go to the ticket counter, having already seen the class audience dressed in strange leather skirts and pants with all sorts of makeup on their faces.

Juhu it was, finally and that was where the downslide started for me. Some snacks and the arrival of the new year were over, and the three of us were just sitting on the beach enjoying the ambience when she came. She has this uncanny habit, actually, of coming every time I stay just that little too long at a beach. The memories of our time together at the Besant Nagar beach (whatever little it had been) invariably flash before my eyes in such cases as I sit rapt, listening to her sing song after song in her unique voice.

Na jaane kyun hota hai ye zindagi ke saath...
Achaanak ye man, kisi ke jaane ke baad
phir kare uski yaad, choti choti si baat

Anyways, on my request, the other two decided to change the venue of our celebrations soon enough and we were treated to some really nice retro effect at Mocha, the cafe just outside the Juhu beach. We further decided to treat the Mocha people with a generous dose of our patronage and picked ourselves up only after we were reasonably sure of catching a local to our next destination, Bandra.

Bandstand was a lovers' paradise, and a place that was full of some ostentatious display, too. With film stars like Shahrukh Khan and others having built their 'nests' there, the glamour quotient was anyway high. This was added to, by the love-lorn couples adorning the coastline, cuddling up, walking hand in hand, and coochie-cooing as if there were no tomorrow. Having got into that mood at Juhu itself, Band stand was not very bearable either. Though I did appreciate the life of the place, perhaps that very life got to me too much to be able to really love all that went on around me.

The next day was not too momentous, with the morning spent in trying to find a suitable loo (we reched a McDee's at 8 in the morning, expecting it to be open:-)). The loo presented itself when we reached INOX, the latest theatre on the Bombay movie circuit and what a loo it was...neat and clean, it almost encouraged me to brush my teeth...but for the attendant :-)

After a really nice and cheerful movie, The Polar Express, a lot of roaming around in the Mumbai locals (including the luggage van of one of them), paying a fine for the wrong tickets, but only after explaining the naive innocence of us Allahabadis, left to fend for themselves in the big bad Bombay, an okay but expectation killing lunch at the exotically named Not Just Jazz By the Bay...we were ready to catch our train from Panvel, where we met Sundesh, Vikhyat and Jena who were also travelling with us to Calicut.

Also travelling with us were another set of passengers who were a little odd, to say the least. A group of young people, with a few middle aged ones thrown in to complete the party, occupied all other berths in our cabin apart from the two on which we were sleeping. When we opened our eyes during the night, varying scenes on the opposite berth attracted our attention every time we did open the eyes. Man and Woman, Man and Man, Woman and Woman...nothing seemed to be beyond them. The morning was even more shocking as they got closer to their destination, Kankanadi (Mangalore). With four lettered expletives making the rounds after every second spoken word, and some really explicit body-talk, there was enough entertainment for the two of us to last us for the remaining journey.

Posted at 10:15 am by Nitai

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Thursday, December 30, 2004
Nitai Gaur Hari bol

Kayi dino se man me ek abhilasha hunkaare bhar rahi thi aur prabhu ki kripa se is warsh yah manokaamna bhi poorna ho gayi. Darasal, jab se main college me Pavan ke sampark me aaya aur usne mere naam ko lekar kaseede kasne shuru kiye, tabhi se meri iksha thi ki main apne naam ke bhawaarth ke antahkaran tak jaoon. Aur jaisa ki maine kaha, is warsh harikirtan me ye awasar bhi mil hi gaya. Chaubees ghante ka akhand kirtan sampann ho chuka tha aur bhandaare ke baad ki madhur aur tript bela (ya yun kahein ki tript udar) thi jab saara pariwaar gapp-sarhaake ke liye baitha aur bas phir kya hona tha...kaam aayi meri abhilasha aur usse bhi zyada kaam aaya biljli vibhaag, jisne ye thaan liya tha ki bijli dena uske dharm ke khilaaf hai aur is prakaar humein gapp ka bharpoor awasar dena uska param kartavya.

Jaise hi maine apne naam ke arth ki baat cherhi, kai awaazein ek saath aani shuru ho gayi...amma, chacha, chote papa, bua...jise dekho, apni hi dhuni ramaata sa prateet hota tha. Lekin jaldi hi main wo sab kuch sun chuka tha jo mujhe pehle se hi pata tha. Jab maine kuch aur andar jaakar thehre hue paani me hulchul paida karne ka prayaas kiya, tab jaakar asliyat saaamne aayi aur maine wo kahaani suni jisne na kewal meri jigyaasa ko shaant kiya balki mere mastishk me supt ek doosri jigyaasa ko janm diya...lekin main shayad path-bhramit ho raha hoon...sab kuch parantu kramwash.

Nimai bachpan se hi shararati the. Chutpan se hi unhone aisa koi bhi awasar nahi jaane diya jab unhone kisi sanyaasi, kisi sadhu ka apamaan athwa parihaas na kiya ho. Lekin jaise jaise unhein sachchai ka gyan hua aur prabhu ki leela unke jeevan me prakaash ban kar aayi, waise waise unhone aise kaam shuru kiye jinki wajah se aaj unhe Mahaprabhu ki sangya di jaati hai. Unhone kisi ko bhi shishya nahi banaaya lekin unke kai paarshad the jinhe gosaain ki sangya di gayi. In sabhi anuyaayiyon ne gauriya sampradaay ka srijan kiya aur krishna prem ke bhaaw ka prachaar prasaar kiya. In sab paarshadon me pramukh the chah gosaain: Roop, Sanatan, Bhat, Raghunath, Jeev aur Gopal...in logo ne Chaitanya Chaitawali ki rachna ki aur Bhagwan Sri Krishna ke prem ras me sabhi ko vibhor kiya. Mahaprabhu ne in chah gosaaion ko aagya di ki wo Bhagwan Sri Krishna ki leela ko punarjeevit karein. Yah inhi gosaaiyon ki mehnat ka nateeja hai ki jo Vrindavan kabhi jangal tha, aaj itna bada dhaarmik sthal hai jahaan jaate hi aisa lagta hai maano prabhu ki baal leela aur raas leela aankhon ke samaksh sajeev ho padi ho.

Nitai ek sanyaasi the jo ki dar dar prabhu gyan ke talaash me bhatakte the. Jabse inka sampark Mahaprabhu se hua, wo unke maadhyam se prabhu ke sameep pahuch gaye. Mahaprabhu ke sabse bade bhakton me unka naam liya jaata hai...yahaan tak ki kimvandati ye bhi hai ki Nitai aur Nimai bhai the (halaanki wo kewal Guru Bhai the). Isi prakaar kai baar ye bhi kaha jaata raha hai ki jis prakaar Mahaprabhu swayam Prabhu Sri Krishna ke awataar the, usi prakaar Nitai Dau Balraam ke roop the. Mahaprabhu swayam Nitai ko bahut maante the aur jaisa ki maana jaata hai, Prabhu ke sameep pahuchne ka sabse uttam maarg unke bhaktgan hi hain...tabhi to kaha jaata hai...Nitai bole, Gaur bol, Gura bole Hari bol.

Ye sach hai ki mera naam Nitai hote hue bhi aaj tak main in sab baaton se awagat nahi tha lekin sach ye bhi hai ki ye sabhi baatein kaafi anokhi lagi mujhe aur unhone mere man mastishk me kahi soye hue Nitai ko shayad jhakjhor sa diya. Agar main ek vaakya me us din ki kahaani ka mere upar jo asar hua uski vyaakhya karne ki cheshta karoon to shayad wohi kahoonga jaisa ki chote papa ne ant me kaha...yadyapi Prabhu har roop me ek hi hain, lekin Bhaktavatsal Prabhu Sri Krishna ke bhakt Gauriya Sampradaay ki bhakti me jo ras hai, wo shayad hi kisi aur sampradaay me milta ho.

Posted at 11:15 am by Nitai

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Wednesday, December 29, 2004
A class act



With only six actors to fill the frames and the frames themselves, moving at a pace that can not be called anything but slow, Raincoat never had the big chance to be a superhit. The promotions of the movie have been coming on the tele for a long time, too and much of the curiosity effect has been killed before the movie actually became ready for release. Rituparno Ghosh, however, has done a wonderful job of translating one of O Henry's works on screen through this short movie that beautifully traverses the border between mainstream and art cinema.

Manoj lives in Bhagalpur where he loses his job with the local factory, putting him in dire need of money. He decides to go to Calcutta and ask his friends for some monteray help and with that, start a business. Once in Calcutta, he goes to see his college friend who makes television serials. He is welcomed there by the friend and his wife and given all contact addresses of people who might be able to help him.

Manoj has another agenda to meet in Calcutta, and that is to meet his childhood sweetheart Neeru, who had given him the slip and married a well-off business man from Calcutta. When Manoj visits Neeru amidst the rainy weather wearing the raincoat lent to him by his friend's wife, the story moves on to a dialogue between Manoj and Neeru and occasional flash back sequences to establish their romantic history and subsequent bereavement.

The events take an interesting turn when Neeru borrows Manoj's raincoat to go out to buy soem supplies from the grocery and there enters into the scene, another character, the full-bladder Landlord.

Ajay Devgan as Manoj and Aishwarya Rai as Neeru have done an amazingly perfect job of portraying two estranged lovers who have not really let go of their passions for each other. Aishwarya Rai looks sweet as well as manipulative. Having tried the same kind of role in Khakee, she perfects it in Raincoat. In the flash back as well as in the current sequences, she clearly comes across as the dominant partner of the romance and not just because the story is so, but also through the way the two actors act out their respective roles.

The silent yet disturbed protrayal of a ditched, troubled man by Ajay Devgan, though not very spectacular, is as effective as it could have been. He restrains himself, stutters, stammers, cries, and at the same time brags with abandon, as any normal person in real life would have done.

Annu Kapoor impresses in his small but effective role. It has been a long time since he made an appearance on the big screen and this time, he does not disappoint. He is very straight forward and rude, as the nature of his character demands. More than that, he manages his entry and exit very well.

Direction by Rituparno Ghosh is bordering on excellent. Specifically, the scenes between Aishwarya and Ajay and between Annu and Ajay are very well executed. The rip-offs between the lovers, the tone of Aishwarya and the way she carries herself are evidences to the mastery of Ghosh.

The cinematography, however, might be one area where the movie loses out a little, although it must be admitted that the look of the movie is in keeping with the feel of the movie. The dark corners, the stormy nights where the faces of neither Ajay or Aishwarya are clearly visible, though they add to the story, take away a lot from its appeal. This is where, despite some very popular mainstream actors, the movie moves on to the art cinema mode with hardly any background music and dark backgrounds.

Even on other occasions, when there is background music aplenty, it is in the voices of Shubha Mudgal which is anyday not as popular as a Lata or a Kavita or an Alka. Classically beautiful, yes but practically popular, certainly not.

If you want to watch Aishwarya uninterrupted for one and a half hours and that too, at one of her best, if Ajay Devgan has started impressing you more and more with every movie he takes on, if you are in that over-boisterous kind of a mood and require some straightening, Raincoat will do wonders for you. If you are already in the dumps and are looking forward to some cat calls and whistles, you are in for a disappointment.

Posted at 05:02 pm by Nitai

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Monday, December 27, 2004
Go light your bulb!

Jab bhi hum daleelon me kamzor parhne lagte hain
Hum hamesha do hi cheezon ka sahara lete hain
sanskaar aur Parampara



After the amazing success of Lagaan, there were quite a lot of expectations from Swades, Gowarikar's next. In a sense, Swades  does come close to Lagaan in parts, it fails, on the whole, to entertain. Swades has a story to tell and it does tell the story in a unique style, that of realism and perfection. Aamir Khan and his Lagaan notwithstanding, Swades is indicative of the effect that Khan had on his director.

Mohan Bhargava works as a Project Manager for NASA where he is working on the Global Precipitation Measurement model. In the middle of his project, he starts thinking of Kaveri Amma, the lady who took care of him during his childhood. He feels the guilt of having left her alone in India and as such, leaves for India to find and take care of Kaveri Amma. Once in India, he realises that Kaveri Amma has left the Old Age Home where she was living and has gone on to Charanpur, a small village in Uttar Pradesh.

He also meets Gita, who guides him to some other place but luckily, Mohan manages to find his way to Charanpur. He finds that there are a lot of problems in the village and Kaveri Amma is too attached with Gita and the village to leave them with their problems. The rest of the story revolves around how Mohan starts solving the village's problems to enable Kaveri Amma to accompany him to America. Soon however, he gets truly involved in the village and its people.

From the directorial front, the movie is well made but for the speed of execution of some situations. As mentioned earlier, the high point is that the movie showcases things up front, as they are and without any pretence. The viewer is provided the choice to see and feel India from an outsider's point of view, unbiased and unadulterated. All the same, the drama of the story is lost once the story starts becoming too real for the taste of the masses. The classes might still appreciate the directorial efforts of Gowarikar, especially the minor touches like the scenes where Shahrukh is shown riding pillion with two others on a Bajaj M80.

The cinematography, keeping in mood with the rest of the movie, is serene and quiet, but of good quality. The picturisation of the songs has come up quite well, especially the Dekho na song which looks a lot different from the way many would have imagined it to be like, on listening to the audio. The songs, even otherwise, are good and display a decent combination of fast and slow pace, instruments and vocals, imagery and direct talk.

Shahrukh Khan does an honest job and after a long time, may not have been able to sleepwalk (in his own words) through his role, as he might be doing in his other Yash Chopra-esque movies. Gayatri Joshi as the principle-driven socially conscious school teacher is fresh, beautiful, graceful, and in one word...smart. She makes the screen come alive with her eyes. As they dart around seductively at times, mockingly at others, the entire gamut of expressions plays its part on Gayatri's face.

The character artist who essays the role of Kaveri Amma is effective, too, but for her sickeningly always smiling expression and her awfully southern diction. Rest of the cast, including the Daadhi-waale-baba from Lagaan who plays the postman here, the actor who plays the role of Melaram, the budding American Dhabba owner, and Makrand Deshpande in a cameo, are all very good and provide the much needed relief from the endless moral science lessons that the others seem too intent on providing the audience.

Swades might as well be a true story for many NRIs and as such, should end up being a big hit overseas and probably that is what the target audience of Gowarikar is. Having tasted the blood once, he intends to go all the way to the Oscar this time but he might not be as lucky this time around. He will definitely have to wait for another inspiration. As for the local audience, Lagaan scores far higher than Swades on the entertainment aspect. Swades bores the audience at many places and at times, people are forced to await the intermission/end due to the sheer stretching of the dialogues. Had there been a little less of moral lesson delivery through dialogues and more of drama interwoven with the story, the movie would certainly have been more effective.

If you are the die-hard patriot, if you do not miss any of Big Khan's movies, if you want to watch a fresh, young face who gives another dimension to the school teacher role (played so differently by Sushmita a few months back), if you want to see and appreciate the reality in Indian villages, if you want to know what it is like for the expatriots who leave their country of birth but are not able to leave their memories, Swades is the movie for you. If you want entertainment and paisa vasool, look elsewhere.

Posted at 09:58 pm by Nitai

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