Talaash: The search that missed something.

Aamir Khan, the unerring perfectionist and a master of getting things right on 'his' Fridays. Needless to say, the audience are ready to fall for everything that is Aamirilicious (ofcourse Mangal Pandey was an outrageous exception). This movie was no exception. Talaash is Indian cinema's second step towards spawning substance thriller narratives. The first one of course was 'Kahaani'.

Written jointly by Reema Kagti and Zoya Akhtar, Talaash is a very intelligent blend of the logical with the supernatural. It is perhaps this clever juxtaposition of the paranormal with the real that did the trick for 'Talaash'. The story revolves around the life of Inspector Shekhawat (Aamir Khan) his wife Roshni (Rani Mukherjee) and a prostitute Rosy (Kareena Kapoor). Shekhawat, who is solving a mysterious high profile accident case is himself haunted by ghosts of his past. Inflicted with the guilt of failing to save his young son from drowning to death, Shekhawat struggles to protect his ailing marriage. He finds refuge in Rosy, a prostitute, who also aids him in solving the accident mystery.

Technically, the film scores high on grounds of cinematography (K.U. Mohanan), background scores (Ram Sampath) and direction (Reema Kagti) . Kareena's acting needs to be lauded the most, for she has finally managed to curtail the loudness that she is known for. Rani's excellent acting skills sat largely idle, as the script didn't offer her character any significant room of importance. Though the characters have been etched with utmost attention, the film suffers from an unwanted drag. The pace of the film has fallen victim to the songs that pass uneventfully and end up dwindling the thrill and the interest in the plot. The director does not give into the viewer's curiosity but the story journeys through several monotonous patches that end up damaging the mood of the story.

Compared to Kahaani, Talaash scores low. Following are the reasons why Kahaani should score high:

• The fact that Kahaani was filmed without using sets, rendered extra ordinary richness to the look and feel of its entire narrative. 
• Kahaani did not have a star cast as impressive as Talaash but each character was inevitable for its plot
• The pace at which Kahaani progressed was outstanding. The suspense ensued and in fact multiplied with every passing second.

Talaash is definitely marred by some flaws but overall it is a cleverly crafted fabric of suspense that will entertain you. If you are a cynic who always thought that Indian cinema could never produce intelligent thrillers then knock-knock.....winds of change have started blowing and of course the change is worth welcoming.

The noise called Introversion

I have vivid memories of my childhood when I used to shy away and bury my face into my mother's Saree upon seeing some strangely known uncles and aunties. My parents would pester me for uttering a courteous Namaste to welcome the guests. But my uncompromising self never relented to their repeated pleas. I chose to be the person I was. At that tender age I could hardly decipher anything about my behaviour. But as I grew up, it dawned upon me that I was inflicted with a phenomenon called Introversion.

Speaking in terms of psychology Introversion is a central dimension of human personality where the person tends to restrict himself into his own existence. Simply put, Introversion manifests itself in quiet, reserved and shy behaviour. Also, there exists a very fine line between shy and introvert personalities. Whereas shyness arises from the fear of facing people, introversion springs from an inclination to guard one's own space with a certain degree of stringency. Anyways, I'm not here to discuss the technicalities of the matter. Fortunately or unfortunately I always made friends who were extroverts to a fair degree. Consequently, I grew up with a sense of inferiority, for my friends were always the life of the party though my presence hardly got noticed. While people admired me for the calm and suttle creature that I was, they loved spending time with my extrovert counterparts.

Eventually, I started feeling handicapped, socially handicapped. I had to hunt for people who shared the same introvert traits as I did. The harder I tried to embrace the extroversion that was so coveted and valued, the greater the sense of self negation engulfed me. I consistently kept trying to broker a truce between the person I was and the person the society would vouch for. The society has always been blinded by its biases. One one hand, it claims to worship those who never compromise with their individuality and on the contrary,  it breeds circumstances that force you into doing so. I encountered the bias everywhere. From my school to every social institution that I became a part of. When I decided to join a course in Broadcast Journalism I was ridiculed by a good number of people. They mocked at me saying that a person who distances himself from petty social gatherings could never be a part of a community that was all about being loud mouthed. I denied to surrender to their criticism but I forgot that the place I was going to is no different from the society that we live in. People who spoke quantities were always preferred over people who spoke quality. 

Researches prove that introverts find refuge in creative engagements. Composers, writers, painters are more likely to be introverts. Perhaps, my love for writing can also be credited to my introversion. Some of the finest contributors of the human history were introverts. Steve Wozniak of Apple is an outstanding example. Even Mahatma Gandhi, the flag-bearer of the Indian freedom struggle saw himself as a part of that introversion spectrum.

I am not against extroversion. It is an equally important shade of the variegated, puzzling human personality. After all, life is all about balancing between the odds. But the sort of rejection that introverts are subjected to in our society, is deeply disturbing. They are forced into a relentless battle of distancing themselves from their essence. The societal skeleton rewards extroverts and outrightly ignores introverts. If an introvert could be subjected to such a degree of aloofness, imagine the humiliation that a physically challenged person may have endured in each and every moment of his life. Introversion is not a sick state of mind. It does not imply by any means a sense of self obsession. It is the power that reunites you with your spirit, binds you with your strengths, confronts you with your weaknesses and rewards you with meaningful introspection. Caring for the external is important but segregating the internal can be disastrous.       

Of  Barfi  and  Khichdi...
Indians are the maestros of "Jugaad". It runs in their veins much like blood. I had my first confrontation with this omnipotent Indian phenomena when I was in tenth standard and after that there was no parting ways with it. What does "Jugaad" actually signify? It is an innovatively twisted way to get things done that is illegally legal and foolishly intelligent. While scams and corruption scandals are the most noteworthy children of "Jugaad", hardly any sphere of life, particularly Indian life, has remained untouched by this phenomena. You must be wondering how does the title of this post relate to what I've been saying in the past few lines? Perhaps the following paragraphs might lend you a perspective.

Barfi, Anurag Basu's smartest brainwave, India's official entry to Oscars and one of the finest movies that has touched the Indian silver screens is  reportedly being claimed to have morphed scenes from classic Hollywood flicks. I saw the movie last week with my mother. Surprisingly, I found her sleeping during the movie. I was irate and jolted her out of her nap so that she does not miss the sheer mastery with which Anurag and the actors had brought to life the entire plot of the movie. The unhampered playfulness of a mute Barfi, an Autistic Jhilmil wrapped in innocence, the unabashedness of an affluent girl Shruti, all tossed with those witty intelligent gags,left me awestruck. Though my mother had a second opinion. She complained that the movie had an unappealing and monotonous plot except for the gags. She was correct. The movie without those smart gags would bore you to death. And we least of all, did not expect those gags to be aped versions of some classic Hollywood flicks.

Though Barfi received an overwhelming response the controversies questioning its originality come as a shocker to the average Indian viewer. Indian cinema has always been known more for its volumes and less for its quality. We are the largest film producing nation but when it comes to substance movies we hardly have a handful of movies to our credit. Given all the dynamics, Barfi was being lauded as a welcome change in the stereotypical organisation of our entertainment industry. It was anticipated as a movie true to its genius where the characters would speak volumes through their work rather than their glam avatars. Though the actors did full justice to their roles, the fact of the scenes being morphed does no good to their efforts.

Directors like Anurag Basu are the torch bearers of the new face of the Indian Cinema. They have an inherent responsibility of breaking the norms that have impeded the quality evolution of the Indian cinema. Indians have somehow been programmed to believe that anything of exceptional quality and worth cannot be Indian. Thats what I thought when I saw the movie "Is this movie really a brainchild of an Indian?" Though I instantly criticized myself for being such a cynic, reports of Barfi scenes being morphed have proved my cynical self true. The reluctance to parent something original and the notion of western superiority has paralyzed the creative acumen of our budding artists.

I am completely of the opinion that replication is a medium that circulates creativity. Creativity cannot survive without being replicated but it is also true that replication should also result in multiplication i.e. creativity must get multiplied when replicated. It is a two way process. When you replicate someone's work you also inherit a responsibility of returning something significant in the process. It is high time that India has been on the receiving end. Its time we start giving back. Its time we see Bollywood movies being remade in Hollywood and not the vice versa. I would have been a much happier viewer if the amount of "Jugaad" and time that was invested in creating a Khichdi of the scenes in Barfi was utilized to fabricate a story that could have been worth copying by the Hollywood .

The cherished cooler is back!

As I write this I so strongly feel as if I'm writing a missing chapter for Santosh Desai's book "Mother Pious Lady".

It is the nastiest part of the year in Delhi. The sweaty, sticky summers when the heat boils you and your body condenses all the steam and sizzle into drops that drip and slip all over it. So I bought a small portable cooler for my room.

Considering the enormous pace at which India's middle class is growing and breaching the levels that define the so called 'middle classness', coolers have reduced to symbols of austerity. It is still not odd to find coolers at homes, but one would mostly find them in the corners that are not ventured into frequently. The journey of coolers from the erstwhile middle class to the contemporary upper middle class is remarkable.

Now just rewind your life to some twelve years back, when the Air Conditioners were looked upon as luxuries of the affluent. Remember the fancy shopping bags that had "Fully air conditioned shop" printed in bold letters upon them? People would flock to the shops to enjoy that gentle and noiseless cooling of the air conditioners, especially because it was free. And the story did not end there. If at all, the stingy middle class woman (not man!) dared to purchase something from the air conditioned shop she would proudly flaunt it in her gossip circle for sometime. Not to forget, the shopping bag would be preserved for sure!

Coolers at that time were the messiahs for the middle class in summers. People who had a cooler in each room were envied. I still remember those summer vacations at home. We did not have a refrigerator at that time so my mother, being a housewife and having the 'jugaad' gene ingrained in her, made an innovative use of the cooler. She used it as a refrigerator! All the summer special delicacies: Flavoured milk, Custard, Mango shake were dearly preserved in that water brimming roof of the cooler. Amused and elated, I used to stare at those colourful glasses full of mango shake, resting royally in a pool of unusually cool water. Remember the odd sound of the pump? It was almost a burp-like sound, which gave me a feeling, that the cooler was mysteriously gulping all the preserved stuff on its roof.

Coolers gave a sense of belonging that was unmatched. My father used to return from his office on a scooter. Smelling of the much touted 'mehnat ka paseena' he would inadvertently sit infront of the cooler. Within minutes the lingering fragrance of the 'khas' consumed his fatigue and the smell of it. I fondly cherish the time, when I would sit infront of the cooler, just to let that gently furious gush of air, rush past my hair and wave them all over my face. At that time, I used to feel no less than the pretty silver screen actress, who was waiting for her prince charming on a picturesque breezy mountain; her hair swinging to and fro her face, much like the clouds that hover over a bright full moon.

Today the ACs have replaced coolers. While ACs are given VIP treatment, by making them adorn, only the bedrooms or the drawing rooms, coolers have reduced to guest house servants. Recall the scene from the movie 'Three Idiots' where Frahan's father proudly declares that only his son's room had an AC. AC is like the rich father who remains away from his children and thinks that his only duty is to help them financially. Cooler is the commoner who may not be rich and advanced but stays close to you and keeps talking to you (Virtually). A cooler is a humble employee, who would walk to its customers to serve them while AC is a sophisticated manager, who wont budge from his cabin and would rather ask his customers to walk to him. A cooler is a little kid, who troubles you by asking for water again and again while AC is a fully grown, expensive to maintain adult. So do you still see the charm in the classical coolers?

Happy Rebirth-day Birthday Party!!

Perplexed reading those lines? Recently I got a chance to attend a kid’s Birthday Party and it was only then that I realized that Birthday parties have taken an absolutely new avatar.

The kids are no more those innocent little creatures who could be fooled with some silly magic tricks or scared with the famous “daadi waala baba” who would kidnap them if they tried disobeying their parents.

While my eyes were busy flirting with the cake adorning the table my ears just hopped to sneak into the kids’ conversation. “Hey I love your shoes...where did you get them from?” The girl though a bit confused carefully drafted her answer and replied “My mom got them from somewhere.” The other kid instantly reacted “I think they are from Reebok” to which the girl said “No they are not from Reebok, do you see a Reebok signature anywhere on my shoes? The boy was stupefied and so was I! Reebok…I came to know about the brand when I was in sixth grade and it took me another one year to recognize its signature and signatures of some other similar brands. And these kids who have just entered their first grade are almost living with these brands. Wow!! I have always detested the brand fad for robbing the innocents off their innocence.

I was still recuperating from my stupidity when snacks were announced and my stomach was almost jumping with joy though my brain was still feeling starved. Staying away from home it didn’t take me more than a moment to fancy the delicacies that would be treating my taste buds and my growling stomach. I could see the ‘ pooris’, the ‘chhole’ and the ever green ‘gulab jamun’ ornate my plate. That moment I was literally reduced to my childhood version who was impatiently waiting for the best part of the Birthday bash..the food! But what came on the plate was a punch on my greedy fancies. All I got was two slices of pizzas, a slice of garlic bread, cheese roll and french fries all ‘made in Pizza Hut’. The kids were flying with joy with those plates in front of them and I was abusing Pizza Hut. What happened to that traditional old menu of Birthday Parties? Why has Pizza replaced ‘Poorie’? Where did ‘Gulab Jamun’ go missing? I was frowning and it took me a while to

Somehow I contented myself with that ‘somewhat-like-food’ stuff. Now came the time when the kids were leaving but what was I seeing? Kids lined up right in front of the Birthday boy and the boy instead of looking intimidated was wearing a broad smile with a tint of pride . Slowly my eyes floated to a table adjacent to the Birthday boy. I saw a pile of lovely boxes each one having a label attached to it which was supposedly someone’s name. Oh! These are the return gifts and the boy is perhaps taking pride in giving away such quality return gifts to his friends. Birthday parties in my age never had any concept of return gifts. I silently regretted having missed out on an uncalculated number of gifts or more appropriately return gifts. The kids gracefully received the gifts and greeted good bye to the boy. The party had been officially concluded but since I was a family member I still had some more time.

So I ventured into a room that was full of Birthday presents. Boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped up in shimmering colourful papers piled on top of each other. Once again I felt like a jealous child and I started guessing what all could the boxes contain. My birthday parties had extraordinarily predictable gifts. I could make out the gift without unwrapping it. Geometry cases, sketch pens, Tiffin boxes and at the best a set of a variety of colours. Either I was living with a bunch of misers or with a bunch of absolutely unimaginative people who could never think of good Birthday presents.Anyways I gave up my envy and asked the little one to unwrap his amazing gifts. So he called his dad and a mat was unrolled on the floor. A notebook and pen was summoned for and the presents were lined up on the mat. The child started tearing off the lovely papers and I asked him not to tear them but carefully unwrap them because as a child I used to preserve those beautiful gift wrapping papers. But the kid gave me an obnoxious look as if he was saying you used to do that because you never got gifts good enough to preserve so you quenched your thirst by preserving the papers but I am not under any such constraint. I instantly gave up.

As he continued unwrapping the gifts he continued commenting on them too. “I already have this game”; “Oh this game was on my list !”His dad carefully documented all the gifts and the names of the children who bought them. A part of me was still jealous of those gifts. After the gifts were all out the kid instantly stood up and asked for an iPad. Within seconds he was playing a game on that amazing piece of gadget. And once again I was stupefied.

The kids have changed, the age has changed and certainly Birthday parties have taken a Rebirth. So Happy Rebirth-Day Birthday Party!!!

Happy Rebirth-day Birthday Party!!

Perplexed reading those lines? Recently I got a chance to attend a kid’s Birthday Party and it was only then that I realized that Birthday parties have taken an absolutely new avatar.

The kids are no more those innocent little creatures who could be fooled with some silly magic tricks or scared with the famous “daadi waala baba” who would kidnap them if they tried disobeying their parents.

While my eyes were busy flirting with the cake adorning the table my ears just hopped to sneak into the kids’ conversation. “Hey I love your shoes...where did you get them from?” The girl though a bit confused carefully drafted her answer and replied “My mom got them from somewhere.” The other kid instantly reacted “I think they are from Reebok” to which the girl said “No they are not from Reebok, do you see a Reebok signature anywhere on my shoes? The boy was stupefied and so was I! Reebok…I came to know about the brand when I was in sixth grade and it took me another one year to recognize its signature and signatures of some other similar brands. And these kids who have just entered their first grade are almost living with these brands. Wow!! I have always detested the brand fad for robbing the innocents off their innocence.

I was still recuperating from my stupidity when snacks were announced and my stomach was almost jumping with joy though my brain was still feeling starved. Staying away from home it didn’t take me more than a moment to fancy the delicacies that would be treating my taste buds and my growling stomach. I could see the ‘ pooris’, the ‘chhole’ and the ever green ‘gulab jamun’ ornate my plate. That moment I was literally reduced to my childhood version who was impatiently waiting for the best part of the Birthday bash..the food! But what came on the plate was a punch on my greedy fancies. All I got was two slices of pizzas, a slice of garlic bread, cheese roll and french fries all ‘made in Pizza Hut’. The kids were flying with joy with those plates in front of them and I was abusing Pizza Hut. What happened to that traditional old menu of Birthday Parties? Why has Pizza replaced ‘Poorie’? Where did ‘Gulab Jamun’ go missing? I was frowning and it took me a while to

Somehow I contented myself with that ‘somewhat-like-food’ stuff. Now came the time when the kids were leaving but what was I seeing? Kids lined up right in front of the Birthday boy and the boy instead of looking intimidated was wearing a broad smile with a tint of pride . Slowly my eyes floated to a table adjacent to the Birthday boy. I saw a pile of lovely boxes each one having a label attached to it which was supposedly someone’s name. Oh! These are the return gifts and the boy is perhaps taking pride in giving away such quality return gifts to his friends. Birthday parties in my age never had any concept of return gifts. I silently regretted having missed out on an uncalculated number of gifts or more appropriately return gifts. The kids gracefully received the gifts and greeted good bye to the boy. The party had been officially concluded but since I was a family member I still had some more time.

So I ventured into a room that was full of Birthday presents. Boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped up in shimmering colourful papers piled on top of each other. Once again I felt like a jealous child and I started guessing what all could the boxes contain. My birthday parties had extraordinarily predictable gifts. I could make out the gift without unwrapping it. Geometry cases, sketch pens, Tiffin boxes and at the best a set of a variety of colours. Either I was living with a bunch of misers or with a bunch of absolutely unimaginative people who could never think of good Birthday presents.Anyways I gave up my envy and asked the little one to unwrap his amazing gifts. So he called his dad and a mat was unrolled on the floor. A notebook and pen was summoned for and the presents were lined up on the mat. The child started tearing off the lovely papers and I asked him not to tear them but carefully unwrap them because as a child I used to preserve those beautiful gift wrapping papers. But the kid gave me an obnoxious look as if he was saying you used to do that because you never got gifts good enough to preserve so you quenched your thirst by preserving the papers but I am not under any such constraint. I instantly gave up.

As he continued unwrapping the gifts he continued commenting on them too. “I already have this game”; “Oh this game was on my list !”His dad carefully documented all the gifts and the names of the children who bought them. A part of me was still jealous of those gifts. After the gifts were all out the kid instantly stood up and asked for an iPad. Within seconds he was playing a game on that amazing piece of gadget. And once again I was stupefied.

The kids have changed, the age has changed and certainly Birthday parties have taken a Rebirth. So Happy Rebirth-Day Birthday Party!!!