Internal reflections

Boxxo & Roundo (slide 2)

2010-08-09T11:21:00.001-07:00

Boxxo & Roundo (slide 1)

2010-07-16T12:18:00.000-07:00

Upbringing, tastes and prejudices

2010-06-02T06:44:00.000-07:00

I posted this write-up on PFC couple of days back. Here's the extract of the text. The original post (and some interesting comments) can be viewed here: http://passionforcinema.com/upbringing-tastes-and-prejudices/

VK is cornered at K’s. He wages a lone battle against the alliance of K, M & V.
K: Dude, how can you call yourself a movie buff and even aspire to be a director when you haven’t seen a classic like this?
VK: Don’t know… somehow haven’t tried watching it so far. And I don’t like Shahrukh.
K: How can you say that when you haven’t even watched the film yet. How many movies of his have you seen anyway?
VK: Hmm… Hey Ram, Swades and Chak De. That’s about it I think.
K: My god! You don’t even have the right to comment on him then!
VK: I don’t know, but his acting doesn’t work for me.
K: You ought to watch this. I bet you’ll eat your words!
VK: Is this the one that has Madhuri and Karishma dancing in skin-tight costumes?
V: Grr! That’s Dil to pagal hai. You haven’t seen that also eh?
VK: Oh… is this the other one then… with Karishma Kapoor and Kajol?
M: Wrong again. That’s Kuch kuch hota hai… and its Rani and Kajol.
VK: Ah! Total confusion! Well, which is the one that you want me to watch now?
K: DDLJ… Dilwale dulhania le jayenge.

The pressure is stepped up, VK yields, helplessly, unwillingly. K determinately locates the folder on his computer in no time. The movie begins to play. VK, however, hasn’t moved and can see the monitor yet. He silently continues maneuvering Snake Xenzia towards her prey on his 1100.
A sudden sound, of what seemed like a cross between a goat’s bleat and a chicken’s cluck, distracts VK. The sound repeats, frequenting either the beginning or end of each dialog spoken. Giving the movie the benefit of doubt, he enquires, “you playing some mimicry act dude?” K notices VK immersed in his mobile phone and retorts, “the movie is already playing”.

VK puts aside his phone and does a quick prejudice-cleansing in his head and moves to face the monitor. A few seconds pass and he feels his neck muscles flexing away from the screen. ‘Patience VK, patience’ he tells himself and strains back his head to look in the direction of the screen. Comments pop up now and then. M says Kajol looks hot; K says the pair is magical, V says Karan Johar looks gay as always. Shahrukh suddenly breaks into a king-kong exercise on a majestic looking piano. It’s time for a song which implies that’s it’s quiz time in the room.
“Mr. Ilayaraja, which song is this?” K fires at VK. VK forgives him and lets the context-less, irreverent reference to his god pass momentarily. He sincerely attempts humming along with the chorus to see if it could lead him into the song.
“Najaane mere dil ko kya ho gaya?”. Negative.
“Jaado theri nazar?”. Nonsense.
The prelude nears its ending. VK still hunts for patterns. “Disgrace to India if you don’t know this song, such a big hit this one is” declares V.
VK concedes defeat as Udit Narayan begins ‘Rukh jaa oh dil deewane’.

K’s mom calls for him; nature calls M and V turns to the iron table. VK smells blood. He slowly advances to the computer, silently shuts down the movie player and gets back to Xenzia.
“What happened to the movie?” K enquires on returning.
“I don’t know, I was ironing” says V. All the three turn towards VK.
“Yup. I turned it off, I had enough” exclaims VK, the relief showing on his face.
“Thoo! Useless fellow! I would’ve seen the movie at least 40 times!” says K emphatically.
“Hmmm… this movie ran for one or two years I suppose?” asks VK.
“It’s the biggest ever hit. It has run for 750 weeks and still runs housfull in a theatre in Mumbai” he is told.
“Hmmm ok, so be it” VK dismisses.
“Play the movie to any girl and she’ll fall in love with it. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll do whatever you ask me to!” K challenges VK.
“Doesn’t affect me.”
“It’s the most entertaining of all movies I’ve seen in my life. Pure entertainment. Any normal Indian family guy would love this” says K throwing another challenge.
“Well, if its entertainment, its Michael Madhana Kamarajan for me. Now that’s something I’ve seen umpteen times!” counters VK.
“Yuck! I thought that movie made a complete mockery of everything” complains K.

The conversation, for some reasons, ended thus, quite abruptly. As you might have guessed by now, K is K and VK is me. K’s last statement left me thinking about how varied and contradictory people’s taste can be. What is it that makes DDLJ and MMKR as top favorites for K and me respectively? And more interestingly, how is it that, each regards it an intolerable fare, what the other considers a classic?

Nostalgia could be one of the reasons connecting us with these films for they released, roughly, in the same time period; MMKR in 1990 and DDLJ in 1995. These were the childhood/schoolboy days for both of us. Let me try and trace my liking for MMKR from then till now.

Kamalhassan, in spite of having publicly shunned his religious/brahminical background, found a soft corner with my family members because of his roots, apart from his fair looks and acting skills. MMKR, that featured him in four different roles, also had a significant chunk of brahminical references, dialogs and sentiments. Quite naturally, this resonated nicely and was well lapped up in the Thamizh Brahmin household that I grew up in. This meant that the movie found a place in the ‘good books’. Ours was a house without a VCR/VCD. Movies, whatever and whenever seen, were in cinema halls, that too purely for entertainment purposes. A movie was either good or bad, no analytical discussions or postmortem of any kind followed any viewing. Though I do not remember watching MMKR with my family, I do recall the song Sundari neeyum and the ‘Bheemboy’dialogs being popular among my folks; possibly the foundation of my taste for the movie. Later in the early cable TV days, I remember watching ‘comedy scenes’ and songs from the movie, but my acquaintance with it remained along the same lines. I liked Sundari neeyum though I had no knowledge about its composer, singers or ragam. Bheemboy, some fights and car chase sequences appealed to the naïve schoolboy in me then. With the advent of my interest in music and more specifically, Ilayaraja, in my PU college days, the songs from the movie became increasingly favorites. The usage of Kedaram ragam in Sundari Neeyum, the bass lines, the violin solos in Sivarathiri, the trumpets and violins in Rumbumbum; each discovery or realization was a thrill. It was only last year that I purchased a DVD of the movie and only after viewing it then and thereafter did I fathom its brilliance. A whole new dimension of subtle humor unfolded in place of, what I hitherto perceived as simply, loud humor. Kamal’s nuanced, master-class performance in combination with Crazy Mohan’s inimitable, razor sharp witty writing makes the movie a thorough laugh riot. Now add in top notch performances (from every single character), great songs and background score, good screenplay and direction; and there we have it, a complete entertainer! Or should I say my recipe for one?

(Considering K’s lament about the movie, let us assume logic to be the biggest victim here, i.e. the movie makes complete mockery of logic. I will and can, in no way, deny this argument. I think it could be mildly possible, to view this movie as logically perfect, upon watching it, while performing Sirasaasana, after emptying a bottle of Old Monk Rum! We are talking about pure entertainment here, aren’t we? How much significance does logic play here? The movie is fun, at the cost of logic, surely, and if I may very reluctantly add, mindlessly funny; reluctant because, the seemingly mindless fun is because of some really brainy wit!)

Now, let us switch tracks and move on to DDLJ. Personally, for a movie to have a sound influence on me, it either has to be technically competent or connect at an emotional level, if not for both. Connecting with a movie emotionally or sentimentally is where, I feel, factors like background and upbringing come into reckoning. In common parlance, this can be explained as ‘relate to it’. Language of the movie, the actors starring in it, the story and its settings, are what I consider, some general pointers for a connection of this sort to be established. I grew up speaking Thamizh and English and my staple movie diet, though limited, consisted of Rajini and Kamal films along with some older ones of Sivaji Ganesan and K. Balachandar. Fortunately or unfortunately, Hindi movies were almost non-existent. Not that there was a bias against the language or sorts. My father and his brother were avid followers of Hindi movies and music; Amitabh Bachchan, Rajesh Khanna, RD Burman, Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar to list some of their favorites. They treasured their collection of audio tapes that ranged from originals to recordings, spanning across boundaries, from MSV to Bappi Lahari, Serghazhi Govidarajan to Mohammad Rafi and spread across genres, from Sivaji sad songs to Amitabh’s romantic duets. These tapes, even today, lay stacked in a cupboard in my house, like memories, like peaceful retired veterans. All ok, but what about the loss in connection with Hindi movies you may ask. Though I’m unable to pinpoint exactly when and why, there was a lapse, a certain one, somewhere in time. Movies and audio tapes took backseat and paved way for shlokas and devotional stuffs. Maybe, it was the end of the angry-young-man era in Hindi cinema. Or maybe my folks suddenly felt that school going children at home ought not to be distracted by cinema and songs. Thus, along the way, withered, buried and lost, was the connection with Hindi cinema for about a decade. Sharukh, Salman, Madhuri, Juhi, etc became ‘their actors’; national blockbusters became ‘their cinema’; popular Hindi songs became ‘their songs’. Whatever was theirs was theirs; it was of no consequence to us, for we had ‘ours’, our movies, our actors and our songs; smug and cozy with the known. Prejudiced. Biased.

Someday, maybe I will accept and appreciate ‘pure entertainment of the normal Indian man’. Till then, I will wait, shamelessly prejudiced, shamelessly biased.

Celebration

2010-06-01T23:08:00.000-07:00

A pristine chord in music,
a part of me,
turns 68 today;
Dear lord, dear Raaja, happy birthday!

Isaiye... pirandhanaal vaazhthukkal!

Vedanti helidanu (Sage and the poet)

2010-05-27T23:17:00.000-07:00

An accomplice sent in lyrics of a song from a Puttanna Kanagal movie Maanasa Sarovara and asked me if I could try translating it into English. The song showcases some disapproving views of a sage on materialistic life, women and luxuries juxtaposed with romantic, optimistic views of a poet on the same.

Vedanti helidanu, honnella maNNu maNNu,
kaviyobba haadidanu, maNNella honnu honnu.

Vedanti helidanu, ee heNNu maaye maaye,
kaviyobba kanavarisidanu, hoon ivale cheluve cheluve,
ivaLa joteyalli naa swargavane gelluve,
naa swargavane gelluve.

Vedanti helidanu, ee baduku shunya shunya,
kavi nintu saaridanu, ooo idu alla shunya,
janma janmadi savide naaneshtu dhanya dhanya,
naaneshtu dhanya dhanya.

I tried using the same pattern as in the original, which appeared to follow a sort of dismissive, direct one liners for the vedanti and a slightly more detailed, happy counter arguments from the kavi. Regretting any injustice to the original, here's an attempt at translation:

Said the wise one, gold just is mud, worthless muck;
Sang, the poet, soil is gold, precious, priceless gold;

Said the wise one, woman, an enigma is she, a mystery;
In romantic trance, soliloquized the poet,
yes, she’s the moon, the radiant moon;
with her, win the world over, will I,
reign supreme, will I.

Denounced the wise one, this existence is void of essence, shorn of substance;
The poet, he announced,
Oh, hollow, this is not,
for, I have relished, transcending all births;
fortunate, am I, so privileged am I.

Exit stage...still left

2010-03-18T01:53:00.000-07:00

I recall using KSRTC’s online ticket booking facility some years back. That had been my first (and only till date) visit to their website. The reason I still remember this is not quite due to any technical/functional wizardry of the site, but for reasons a little more notorious. Among all the websites (or for that matter any user-interface) I have used or seen so far, I think this one could take the top spot for housing some of most un-friendliest of messages/comments. Now sample these:

'We cannot display the list of buses if we do not know your destination of travel.'
'How can we show the ticket availability if you do not enter the date of travel?'

No, these aren’t my exaggerations. They might not be the exact messages but I’m pretty sure they were very much along the same lines. Whatever it was, one thing very evident was that a bunch of IT dudes (or who ever was responsible for developing it) had taken the customers (most possibly a bunch of lousy gourment-aapiss uncles) for a ride and neatly got away with it. An easy opportunity for some payback they had reckoned, I imagine.

Drawing inspiration from this, combined with the effect of facing ‘Do you want to save the changes you have made’ and ‘Are you sure you want to exit’ a minimum of 150 times every day, I thought - why not take these modest questions, sprinkle some uppu, melagu and kaarapodi and make them a little less boring? And thus born was this list of ideas.

___________________________________________________

Are you sure you want to exit?
(User: Yes)
How sure are you? Enter value in percentage.
(User: 100%)
Invalid entry. This value is applicable only to Carnot engine’s efficiency and George Bush’s idiocy. Please enter correct value.
___________________________________________________

___________________________________________________

Yoooser thambi!!! (pop-up box does 3 quick rotations)
Nee ‘No’ button amtheeteena onnume illaama poodum. (rotates thrice)
Konjam miss aaidichna unneyum onnume illadhavana panneeduvaanunga (rotates thrice)
Nalla yoschi sollu… parava illiyaaaa? (rotates thrice again)

___________________________________________________

We are currently unable to perform this operation as you have opted not to save. We believe that precious effort might go wasted due to irresponsible decisions that can be influenced by an unclear state of mind. To perform the operation you desire, it is necessary to prove your clarity of mind. Kindly contact any Govt. hospital and enroll yourself for an alcohol-level-check blood test. The closure of your file will be decided upon the receipt of your report from the hospital.

____________________________________________________

Is you shoorly want exit?
(User: yes)
Just a minut for 2 minuts. You not doing saving. Reyally ok?
(User: WTF)
Oh, not understanding? I telling clearly no, not save mean gone case. Govinda Goovinda
(User: #$%#$#)
What problem man? You want helping?

_____________________________________________________

Contentment

2010-03-15T02:37:00.000-07:00

More often than not,
a work of art,
just is.

Expecting of it,
to deliver explicit,
meaning or message,
consolation or solution,
is just not,
justice.

Miscommunication

2010-03-11T04:06:00.000-08:00

Between us and a romantic confluence,
stood like a dam,
our personas,
child-like hers and uncle-like mine.

I try to give in,
render songs of love;
my intentions, timid but clear.
I get told "nice to hear".

Most of me tends to agree,
that appreciation in place of reciprocation,
isn’t after all,
an inhumane bargain.

The weeping womb

2010-02-14T11:45:00.000-08:00

Passionate days, passionate nights,

week long, month long intercourses

and thus I was born.

Joyous, he welcomed me,

nourishing and nurturing me

dutifully in his womb.

But times, they changed.

Infidel, he began sinning with a vamp,

falling prey to her trap.

Now, impregnated into the same womb

is their offspring.

Feasting on his unlimited supplies,

the new one grins at me as I starve.

Choking me, he whispers into my ears,

'to thwart you and abort you am I here,

farewell you silly dream... my name's fear'.

Ilaiyaraaja - 2009 - A summary

2009-12-28T06:19:00.000-08:00

Its year-end and boy don't we all love the annual rituals - round-up and awards!

A 'mind', a brain, physically 66+ old, stretched and squeezed constantly for the past 33 years in the art of 'creation', conjuring musical piece after musical piece, in arguably the most mundane and non-conducive of environments for an artist, which will yet show no dearth of creative juices - this post is born out of utter
awe and adoration of this grey matter. A humble dedication to the man Ilaiyaraaja (IR).

2008 was a seemingly dull year with just an Uliyin Osai towering sky high amidst some uninspiring stuff. Eager but apprehensive followers (and blood-thirsty detractors) watched on as IR set foot in 2009.

And the year began with a smack! Naan Kadavul, the first album to be released - song: Om Shivoham - Raaja sent the ball flying out of the park! A straight six over the bowler's head off the first delivery! I sat puzzled, with moist eyes and goose bumps. 'How and from where did he pull this one out?' I pondered. And how would he follow that up? A classic and elegant cover drive - Kannil paarvai. Complete surrender! I simply didn't have a choice!

One significant difference between the outputs of 2008 and 2009 is his association with certain films, which were superior not just in the context of budget but also in their quality. Naan Kadavul, Pazhassi Raja and Paa despite being just ok films, managed to have a good run at the box office. Whether these movies were convincing cinematically remains a questionable affair, but one very apparent fact is that Raaja delivered big time in all these three biggies, be it in songs or the background scores. These apart, there were also a number of deplorable films, but the overall quality of music in these seemed better compared to similar duds of the past few years.

Alright, now let’s get down to business – what the post promised to deliver!

Interlude/prelude/postlude of the year:

Enter the king’s abode; the world where the man reigns supreme, undisputed and unparalleled. He unleashes his wild creativity in these little durations in songs; an imagination beyond the grasp of many Indian film composers. Irrespective of the film and the album’s quality, there’s one thing that can be assumed for granted - a couple of interesting interludes. This year, with several solid albums to his credit, the quality of the interludes only got better. Collaboration of talented musicians almost always yields in creative and exciting outputs. So was the case of the partnership this year of IR and Hungarian musicians Attila Lazlo, Bela Lattmann and Janos Nagy. The usage of the electric guitar, bass and the keyboards in Paa stands out with mint fresh quality with several brilliant jazz passages in the interludes and in the background vocal accompaniment. This has added another dimension to IR’s already multi-layered music and has left fans yearning for more. (A similar dash of experimentation could be traced back in the song Kathum Kuyile from the movie Kizhakkum Merkkum which had some magical guitar work by Prasanna.) I sincerely wish for more of such collaborations as it seems to bring out a more inspired IR. The dashes of jazz apart, some of the other styles that featured this year in the interludes include the characteristic string-ensemble, tribal, folk and classical.

Listed below are some of my personal favorites of the year:

a) Om Shivoham (Nannavanu - Kannada, unreleased): prelude and second interlude –Fusion of Vedic chants, folk devotional songs and carnival music - it takes an IR to conceive something of this sort. The most striking part is how he gels them while still retaining the authenticity of each of the individual components. In the second interlude, the transition from the Vedic chants to the folk chorus (some mesmerizingly authentic folk singing) and then on to the ubiquitous Naadhaswaram and Thavil section is goose bumps stuff in totality.

b) Om Shivoham (Naan Kadavul): prelude and second interlude – IR conjures up images of boundless intensity, a Rudrathandavam like energy here. The Udukkai, drums and conch along with the frenzied chorus chant of Harahara Mahadev gives the song a catapulting start. In the second interlude he chooses to give the thandavam effect using an incisive Veena solo with Udukkai and Tabla keeping rhythm. He very grippingly winds up the interlude with a crisp solo Tabla mukhda. The flow of musical ideas in this guy’s mind seems inexhaustible!

c) Ilavayasu pasanga (Madhiya Chennai) – This piece struck me like a bolt of lightning when I heard the song for the first time. The song, frankly speaking, is quite ordinary and the dumbass lyrics only add to the listener’s irritation. But the second interlude stands testimony to one of Indian film music’s most creative minds. A mind which does not differentiate and classify music into genres and one to which all musical forms seem to unify and blend into a unique sound. In this interlude, what starts off with a funky western style violin backed with a catchy rhythm guitar, suddenly but seamlessly progresses into Indian classical style with Mrudangam beats. The whole piece, though short in duration, is one of the funkiest interludes this year.

d) Paa – in terms of instrumentation, this album screams of class, quality and experimentation. I just cannot get enough of the prelude and interludes of Gum Sum Gum and all the versions of Mudi Mudi. The way he orchestrates the three version of mudi mudi - damned may I be, but I would’ve returned home happy had he given me an album with just 6 different versions of the same tune without any other songs! It’s startling and also saddening to know that a number of people, including several alleged ‘music reviewers’ have failed to identify, understand and appreciate the stark differences in instrumentation in these three versions. I do not intend to undermine the musical sensibility of the masses nor do I wish to project an elitist notion, but how hard is it to differentiate an electric guitar+bass+drums combo from a violin ensemble+guitar one? It makes me think if we will ever get to see the true musical genius of this man, for a large portion of his potential could well go untapped due to lack of fair recognition and encouragement.

e) Enge Sendralum – Kannukulley: the prelude and interludes of this song are made of the stuff that makes IR so dear to many fans like me. The inimitable, intricately woven, quintessential western classical music (WCM) styled strings section. The brilliant harmonies and the violin solos quite easily puts to rest any doubts about IR running out of steam. This one is as good as any classic from IR’s younger firebrand days.

f) Kannil Paarvai (Naan Kadavul) - Sticking to the adage ‘saving the best for the last’, I reserve my personal top-favorite interlude to finish the list. The second interlude of this song has had me hooked right from the very first listen. Life momentarily halts and everything around me diminishes into a mute oblivion when the strings section starts playing. In trademark IR fashion, the WCM string ensemble gets to play Carnatic raga based notes. This time around, to elevate the experience further, it is the intoxicating Raskipriya scale. The piece starts off with a section of the violins bowing a constant Ma note while another section traverses a short but poignant Rasikapriya passage. The notes, from what I understand, roughly appear to be:

Ni Sa Ni, Sa Ri Sa, Ri Ga Ri Ma

Ma Pa Ma, Ga Pa Ma, Ga Ri Sa Dha…

To me, during this brief sustain at Dha, a deep sense of sadness builds up in the heart. The rest of the interlude is like the violins conveying the remorse of the situation and its characters, telling me their pain and sorrows. It might be a small and simple strings section, but I personally find so much soul and life in it.

Song of the year:

Om Shivoham – Naan Kadavul

If I’m asked to give a one word answer explaining the reason for picking this song, it would be ‘ferocity’. Naan Kadavul, as claimed by its maker, was supposed to be a film based on Aghoris, Some of characteristics that are generally attributed to Aghoris are their fierce devotion, aggression and anger. Did IR bring out these emotions in his music? Oh yeah and how! The selection of instruments (udukkai, table, veena, drums, cymbals, conch, etc), the base ragam (Panthuvarali?), the style of singing, the inclusion of Vedic chants, the song’s tempo; every aspect of the song seemed bang on target. To me, Raaja’s forte is his ability to push the boundaries of a genre, while still staying faithful to its roots. Some reviews had labeled (or ‘written-off’ to be precise) this song as just another bhajan/devotional song. One can only pity the naivety of such ears (and hearts). In some sense of the term (a rough one that too), this song does fall in the Bhajan category. But is that all the song has to offer? The orchestration, its power and aggression are unlike any other devotional song of Raaja. And for the manner in which the song was treated in the movie, which to me is the year’s most ‘emotionally convoluted’ film, only reiterates the ill fate of Raaja’s music on screen.

For this power chord which struck a chord deep in the heart of this atheist – a bow to the King.

Just-missu - Kannil Paarvai (Naan Kadavul), Kunnathe Kunnakyam & Aadhiushas (Pazhassi Raja), Mudi Mudi (Paa), Idaya Baagilu (Suryakanthi), Kooda varuviya (Valmiki)

Female vocalist of the year:

Shreya Ghosal - Kannil Paarvai

On many occasions, IR’s choice for vocals of a song has left me puzzled, disappointed and even irritated. Why would somebody want to compose a Endrendum Aanandame and then pick Malaysia Vasudevan of all singers to render it? If I were left wondering thus in the past, this only appears to have increased off late. Take for example this year’s ‘Oli tharum sooriyan’ from Valmiki. What on earth is Bela Shinde doing in this master-stroke of a song? With her current Tamil diction, how does she manage to find a place in it at all?

Such blemishes notwithstanding, this year also had some fine singing in solos and in duets. But who walks away with the cake? Shreya Ghosal for Kannil Paarvai. Be it on the musical front or emotional, this song is sublime. Like an intricate pulli-kolam, Raaja weaves this deadly base using a divine Rasikapriya ragam set to an interesting Rupakam beat. And Shreya so beautifully joins the dots to finish the lovely kolam! Her diction is near perfect and her singing even better. ‘Yaarkum pole vizhigal irundhum, ulagamo irullil’, this line has many lessons to offer in its emotions, pronunciation and singing. For the Tamilliterates, this line contains three unique but similar sounding letters – poLe, viZHigal, iruLLil – which even many native speakers/singers fail to differentiate. Hats off to Shreya and IR for this.

Just-missu – Chitra (Kunnathe), Shreya (Shrungara bangara, Nannanne nodovanu, Idaya baagilu), Shilpa Rao (mudi mudi), Sunidhi Chauhan (Hichki hichki, Chinna polike), Rita (Unnai patri sonnal)

Male vocalist of the year:

Vijay Prakash - Om Shivoham

If this selection was to happen based solely on versatility, one man would effortlessly have taken the top spot - Raaja. Sampling the variety of songs rendered by him: the longing and sadness of Thaalaatu keka naanum, the playfullness of Rangu rangu, the classic Oru kaatril alayum, the naughtiness in Muthuthu, the tribal joy of Ambum kumbum, the pitch-perfect Chennai dialect in Ennada paandi – I doubt if any other singer could have done justice to the different emotions and styles in such varied genres.

However, edging past IR, leveraging on the impact of the song of the year is Vijay Prakash for Om Shivohum. His power-packed rendition elevates the song by several notches and his clear Sanskrit pronunciation helps. He did disappoint in Ambum Kumbum’s Tamil version which was only a shadow of IR’s original. But then, Om Shivohum turbo-charges itself ahead of all competitors and puts Vijay in the Numero uno spot for the male vocalist.

Just missu – IR, Yesudas (Onnukonnu, Aadhiyushas), SPB (modhalane baari), Sriram Parthasarathy (yaar ivalu), Karthik (Mouni naanu)

Quick picks – top 3:

Albums: Pazhassi Raja, Paa, Valmiki

Duets: Idaya baagilu (Suryakanthi), Nannanne noduvanu (Bhagyada balegaara), Rangu rangu (Prem kahani)

‘Group’ songs: Ambum kumbum (Pazhassi Raja), Gum sum gum (Paa), Sullikuppam ganapathikku (Mathiya Chennai)

A few nit-picks - some not-so-pleasant developments/trends this year:

Disastrous pronunciation: there were quite a few songs that had cringe-worthy pronunciation, particularly in Tamil. Wrecker-in-chief unanimously elected as Bela Shinde, this crew consists of Udit Narayan, Kunal Ganjawala and other seldom heard names like Ujjaini and Bonnie. Other than the songs which had messy pronunciation of Thamizh syllables, there were others which had a much ‘anglicized’ style of singing. To me this stuff is too hard to digest in IR's music. Even in the very recent Suryakanthi, in addition to the irritating accent of Kunal Weedfellow, there’s Solpa soundu in which the female singing is nothing short of atrocious. I try to pacify myself telling it could have been deliberate, tongue-in-cheek, a satire by IR, but considering that this style has shown up in some more songs this year, it becomes difficult to buy the argument. IR is known for extracting precisely what he wants from his singers. It's surprising to see this attitude wane and get replaced by, what appears like, an unassertive approach towards right pronunciation. Another issue that stuck out sorely was poor selection of singers. Well, this problem has managed to live on almost throughout IR’s career, but there were worrisome turns in this regard this year. To quote a few: Tippu being chosen for most of the ‘fun’/fast paced songs, Bela Shinde getting numbers, which in my expectation, should’ve gone to Shreya, increasing usage of non-native singers (especially those from Hindi film music) like Kunal Ganjawala and Bela Shinde, in south Indian languages, who in spite of having sung a fairly good number of songs already, do not appear to have come to terms with the diction of south Indian languages.

Sudd-Suddenly #4

2009-10-12T03:40:00.000-07:00

A lazy, aimless stroll inside ‘Temptations’, an understated, humble video/music store on Brigade Road.

Storeguy: new album saar. Today only it came.
Joblessguy (not paying much attention): hmm…
Storeguy puts back the album. Joblessguy sudd-suddenly spots a familiar font on its cover.
He picks it up with a sense of urgency and stares at it and it reads in big bold guitar-head fonts ‘MEGADETH - ENDGAME’
A massive chord from a Jackson-electric sounds inside his head. His pulse seems to have taken off on a lead guitar solo.
Joblessguy: you do accept card right….

Mustaine… dear god.. loyal friend…
News and rumours of a nervous breakdown and retirement… uahahaha… I can hear you laugh at us silly mortals through your album, through your guitar.
You have held the dying veins of speed/thrash metal and jolted it out of coma.
Oh lord.. thank you for coming back.

The beginning of...

2009-09-11T05:13:00.000-07:00

Scene: UVCE college, front foyer - an open space cordoned off by the library and rows of classrooms and offices.

It generally stays empty, thanks to the rule prohibiting students sitting or forming groups in the place. And since its a govt college, it retires quite early almost everyday. It would be tough finding a person or 2 by 4PM.

Its a weekday, around 8 in the night and the foyer is almost full, bursting with students.

'Perot Systems' have just conducted their written round of tests for campus selection. I'm seated in a corner of a corridor with a bunch of friends. I know very clearly the outcome of my test for I've confidently messed it up. We are sitting there, discussing random topics - formula1, rock music, Applied Thermodynamics, adult movies, C++... and what not! While some in the gang are their usual self, a few others look almost lost. They do blurt out a word every now and then, but they primarily appear pre-occupied.

I found the scene very interesting. An attempt to give a poetic account of it...

Shedding its usual nakedness,

the place appeared draped in a polka dotted gown.

People, people and more people,

sat there in a state of conscious coma,

fixed and settled like the dyed dots on the gown.

The night was dimly lit,

by the prayers,

those said silently inside,

and the others said aloud outside.

Hopes hung everywhere,

like bats and spiralling cobwebs,

cautiously balancing between imagination and practicality.

Eager souls awaited,

what could be called, a predictable twist of fate.

The chanting mouths longed,

for success' sweet taste.

The judgement,

the announcement arrives,

like a sudden downpour,

bringing soothing bliss to some

and flooding sorrows to the others.

The ambience transforms into little muddy pools;

in them sadness sediments slowly.

We are all hitch-hikers on this road,

this road called life.

If accompanied by the fortune fairy,

one gets a ride to destination.

But what if not... dont bother to worry.

we will walk our way...

Awaiting the Long break /"Did you watch a ‘Kannada’ movie??!!" – Views on contemporary Kannada cinema and ideas for resurgence.

2009-07-22T03:52:00.000-07:00

During many day-to-day conversations with various people, if I said ‘I watched this kannada movie last weekend…’, I happen to sense a feeling of amazement and even disgust in the other person. There have been occasions where I have even directly had my sanity questioned. Sadly, this appears to be the image Kannada cinema has created for itself over the years. Movies being one of the most popular and accessible forms of art and entertainment, its audience is understandably large.
The way I see it, this audience, more specifically Indian audience, can be roughly categorized into 3 types: A) I want to be entertained (read time-pass); creativity, technicality or content-quality do not necessarily qualify as parameters. B) I want to be entertained but expect a good story and decent performances; no garish violent/sexual content. C) I need food for thought and want to see something high on creativity and technically sound. This cannot be seen as a rigid structure or framework though. A mix-and-match of these (plus the one’s that swear by the unique types alone) is what more or less, makes up an audience on the whole. What needs to be understood and acknowledged is that type A does not mind something technically good as long as the entertainment quotient is still high; type B could accept a complex subject which has some spirited performances and good songs; an ordinary story handled deftly with a fresh narrative could still be ok for type C. Often what happens is that these get wrongly interpreted as type A: masala/sleaze, type B: family/feel-good and type C:art/award-winners. The effect of this is that the scope for attempting good movies gets badly hampered. This brings us back to where we started - the current state of cinema of Karnataka which seems to be hemorrhaging from such misinterpretations and false notions. For a decade or so now, the average quality of the produce of this industry has been so dismal that it has almost permanently tainted its reputation. ‘What reputation?’ some might ask. For such less informed, it is necessary to explain the glory of the state’s cinema that has produced some of the country’s best movies and is home to several exceptional talents in the field. Sample this for a list of
movies: Tabarana Kathe, Vamsa Vruksha, Hamsageethe, Ondhaondhu kaaladhalli, Dweepa, Ghata shraddha, Adi Shankara, Nagara Havu, Bangarada Manushya, Gejje Pooje, Accident, Belli moda….and this for
technicians/artists: GV Iyer, Puttanna Kangal, Girish Kasarvalli, Girish Karnad, GK Venkatesh, Vijayabhaskar, Shankar Nag, Anant Nag, Rajkumar, Prakash Raj, Atul Kulkarni … a quick lookup would clarify the standards we are referring to here.

In today’s internet age, the culture of movie forums - websites, blogs, film clubs, local film fests, etc - plays a significant role in breeding a healthy film culture. Discussions on movie making, reviews, analyses and the likes can be stumbled upon quite easily on the web, about classics as well as contemporary cinema, prompting enthusiastic participation from critics, movie-goers, film-makers and technicians alike. Discussions on current Hindi cinema are seen covering works of promising film makers like Vishal Bharadway, Anurag Kashyap and Sriram Raghavan with movies like Johnny Gaddar, Black Friday, Dev D, Omkara, No Smoking, Aamir, etc being some of top favourites. Down south (my acquaintance so far with contemporary Malayalam and Telugu cinema is inadequate for me to make any observations in them) though not as fervent as its Hindi counterpart, Thamizh cinema seems to have its share of passionate movie buffs with young directors like Ameer, Mysskin, Raam, Sasikumar and Balaji Shaktivel keeping them excited with movies like Paruthiveeran, Katradhu Thamizh, Anjadhey, Subramanyapuram and Kadhal. These are movies that have not relied on star power or hefty budgets. Their success (not necessarily box office
collection) can be accredited to aspects like newer subjects, unorthodox non-formulaic narration, unique screenplay, thoughtful camera work, interesting editing techniques and inspired performances.
These are not art-house cinema per se (Andrie Tarkovsky, Ingmar Bergman, Satyajit Ray, Adoor Gopalakrishnan,et al) but are mainstream commercial films that have strived to venture beyond run-of-the-mill ideas and methods, blending experimentation with ingredients for entertainment. An item number or a dose of melodrama or a bloody fight sequence could very well feature in them. But they seem 'pardonable'
when compared to several other aspects of the movie that do more than manage to compensate. What pains me is the near absence of Kannada cinema at forums like these (Girish Kasarvalli seems to be the only exception). It is not mandatory that Kannada cinema be present here.
These forums might not bring about any radical changes. Popular mass-driven cinema will thrive by and in itself. What these forums do is encourage alternate cinemas. While the intent or the quality of content in different forums may vary, this culture definitely seems to be helping: in building an audience base beyond language barriers, in understanding thier likes and dislikes, in preparing/setting them up for experimental themes, in communicating a maker's point-of-view of a creation to the viewer ...and in general helping a creator connect better with the audience. Unfortunately for current Kannada cinema, it seems to be an empty house on either side of the screen.

Resurrection of good, meaningful Kannada cinema is the need of the hour for Karnataka's movie industry. These are some ideas, that I think could help in this.
Utilizing literature - the literary culture of Karnataka is very rich and boasts of an array of renowned writers like Kuvempu, SL Bhyrappa, Maasti Venkatesh Iyengar, Shivaram Karanth, DVG, Poornachandra Tejasvi and UR Anantmurthy, among who are many Sahithya Academy and Jnanapith awardees. Despite such wealth in literature, the state's cinema seems to have rarely leveraged from it. Book-to-movie adaptations have never been high in numbers and the last decade has seen this decline further sharply. Again Kasarvalli stands out as alomst the lone exception in this regard, with most of his movies being based on literary works.
There have been a few others like Avva but these have lacked sincerity and conviction in reproducing their source text. Projects need to be undertaken with the view of an honest adaptation of a literary piece.
By honesty, what I mean here is that compromises (for saleability), modifications or alterations in adaptation, should not be at the cost of losing a book’s soul/character. Otherwise it would eventually become a lost cause. I vouch for increased number of adaptations and feel it would make a healthy trend because not only does it ensure for the film a strong backbone in its story, but it could also open new avenues for artists to perform in well written characters. The state government and organizations like Kannada sanghas, could invite film-makers to make adaptations of culturally significant literary works. Benefits like funding and tax concessions could help boost such initiatives.

Burying the clichéd - the current cinema scene screams of a drought of fresh ideas and new techniques. The odds of coming across an original, less-crass movie like Aa Dinagalu or Cyanide are too few. The rest can be safely categorized as remakes, either of successful movies from other languages or rehash of formulaic concepts. Remaking, which firstly is not the healthiest of ideas, when attempted, should look at replicating not only the concept but also the sincerity and effort of the original, thereby doing atleast some justice to it. In the current Kannada cinema, one does not see a Drohkaal becoming a Kuruthipunal, or even something like a Don taking the form of a (mildly watchable) Billa. But on the contrary, what one gets to see are movies that are mere carricatures of their original. Karnataka, especially Bangalore, sports a multi-ethnic, cosmopolitan culture. Good cinema made in other languages, Indian or international, has been accepted and endorsed by its people. Given its highly receptive culture, decently strong economy and sufficient spending power of a large portion of its population, it becomes difficult to understand the doubt of whether newer concepts in Kannada cinema will be welcomed. Sometimes it makes me think if it is actually the fire in the belly that’s missing and not just the apprehension. Even guys like Ramesh (Cyanide) and Suri (Inthi ninna preethiya) who have shown signs of being technically strong, have, by pressure or choice, gone on to dwell in the now comfort zone of Kannada cinema of violence, sleaze and melodrama. Its high time that filmmakers trust the audience and help instill in them the belief that their sensibilities will be respected and the belief that they will be provided with entertainment of high quality.
Established production houses, artists and technicians need to shoulder the responsibility of encouraging new talent and supporting fresh ideas and perspectives. Mentoring under veterans like Girish Kasarvalli and Nagabharana could help in nurturing young minds.
Subjects like folk arts, classical arts, war, history, biography, psychedelia, sports, science fiction and many such seldom or never ventured topics provide ample scope for exploration. Bold attempts, made with conviction, sincerity and determination could pave way to a much awaited rise of a new wave in Kannada cinema.

Importing talent – Kannada cinema, in the past, has had the involvement of many artists and technicians from other states. There have been many quality movies by filmmakers like Singeetham Sreenivas Rao, K Balachander, Maniratnam and Balumahendra and several memorable performances by actors like Kamalhassan, Naseeruddin Shah, Deepti Naval and Smitha Patil. To tackle the current slack, it could be an idea to rope in people from outside the state. Not that there is scarcity of local talent, but collaborating with external talent could possibly help enhance the curiosity and appeal within and beyond boundaries, if not for betterment of quality. This practice can be seen deployed in Kannada film music already. After a period of mediocrity, the past few years has seen a gradual rise in the quality of songs with a marked increase in the number of melodies. Talented musicians like like Bombay Jayashree, Sonu Nigam, Shreya Ghosal, Devi Sri Prasad, Kunal Ganjawala, Karthik and Harish Raghavendra, though at times may appear over-used, have definitely aided in unleashing fresh interest in Kannada film music. On similar lines, inviting filmmakers and artists, established or promising, to participate in Kannada cinema could see resulting in good films being made.

Theatre as platform: A look at the theatre scene in Karnataka and it can be easily understood that it stands in much better health in comparison with cinema. It houses and plays host to several top-notch national and international groups of both, traditional and contemporary styles. Artists from theatre background are renowned for making quality actors in cinema and Kannada cinema has already seen this in the form of Shankar Nag, Arundati, Umashree and more recently Rangayana Raghu. Continuation, and hopefully an increase, in this trend could only prove favorable to cinema. Apart from the inflow of artists and technicians, Kannada cinema could benefit from more number of plays transcending and taking form on the silver screen. There have been many highly innovative and radical ideas that have seen light in the form of plays and adapting these into movies, though may pose highly challenging, might prove worthy of attempting.

Role of government: There could be initiatives taken by the state government in the direction of revival of its cinema. Negative approaches like supression of other language cinemas is uncalled for, with the results and statistics so far, clearly suggesting that it has not helped in improvement of Kannada cinema. Instead, it is constructive idelogies and thoughtful measures that are required. Film schools have proved instrumental in moulding several of the industry’s technicians and actors. A premier film institute set up within the state could help in establishing a strong platform for the film industry to build upon. More thought could go into setting up commissions to create schemes to encourage aspiring technicians and actors. An idea is sponsoring education for meritorious candidates (selected based on a standard selection process) in premier Government aided film schools like FTII, Pune and SRFTI, Kolkatta. In a trade-off, on completion of a course, the candidates will compulsorily have to take up a set of projects proposed by the Government, like documentaries, ad-films and feature films that would aim at creating cultural and social awareness. With all the evident issues of bureaucracy and inefficiency, such schemes, for sure are easier said than done. But hope is not to be lost as such initiatives need to planned and executed.

Last and most importantly...spare the macchu for a while. The ‘long’
unquestionably deserves a long break!

Subramanyapuram - A fan review

2009-07-22T03:34:00.000-07:00

As i settled down to watch subramanyapuram for the 1st time, the first shot inside the prison immediately drew my attention.I felt the prisoner POV shot was an interesting choice and it made an attractive start.
As the movie unfolded, with the stabbing scene’s culmination and the introduction of Subramanyapuram, man, was I simply stunned.The scene started off with the camera panning downwards from the sky slowly revealing a street in the town with its usual activities, people going about with their daily lives.Then a man walks in and the camera starts following him… first from one side. Ah.. good stuff i felt.Then it shifts to the other side, still following him walking. Just got better!And there it was… no cuts for about a minute… a long take in namma cinema!Whoaaa!!! A tracking shot for an establishing shot… What a fresh approach to introduce to the audience the story’s backdrop.
And then a few more small continuous shots followed… the camera appeared to glide silkily without any abrupt cuts and created a positive impression about the editing.
The main characters sitting inside the cell, their introduction – straight-forward, completely natural without any ‘build-up’ – was a pleasant welcome.
The following set of scenes – beginning from Kanagu kick starting his lambretta to the public bathroom scene – was pure exhilarating stuff.
The regular ‘family -introduction’ is turned into a set of witty, superbly knit scenes with the editing following a chain-like or relay-like pattern, take-off a scene taking cue from the culmination of its previous. The editor seemed to have deliberately (and intelligently) used this only for a short while thereby enhancing its impact and avoiding any monotony.
Just 10mins into the movie and I already felt completely blown away by the technicality of the film.
Kasi’s betrayal and then Parama getting killed (ending with Kasi sitting down on a stone and lighting a beedi… guys take a bow).This scene according to me can feature among the best shot scenes in Indian cinema. Think it shares space with some of the best tracking shots in cinema…like some listed here:http://www.dailyfilmdose.com/2007/05/long-take.html orhttp://www.bspcn.com/2007/05/10/the-long-take-the-greatest-long-tracking-shots-in-cinema/
To me, the movie rises high inspite of it’s flaws (it fair share of ultra-violence and some amounts of melo-drama). The better portions in the movie are just too good leaving behind a great aftertaste to cherish.
To list a few of the stuffs that I admire in the movie:the long takes (kathir… more of this from you please… this is just what the doc ordered!)the relay edited sequence of scenes.tight-framing and good close-ups.the chasing sequence where azhagar and kasi are chased by the other group’s men.the charming ’siru ponmani’ sequences.the ending of the siru ponmani 1st sequence where Parama knocks of the glass of tea from dumka’s hand and the tea splashes across Kasi’s face who’s dozing. Kasi calmly wipes it off and resumes his sleep. I thought this was a superb representation of their state of joblessness, their lazy and we-care-a-damn attitude.
There are many such scenes that I felt were extremely well concieved and executed with the cinematography, screenplay and editing supporting one another so effectively.
I think I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched the movie, as a whole or in parts, but I still enjoy it immensly every single time (shamelessly ripped version).
Katradhu Tamizh, Anjadhey and Subramanyapuram, for me, stand out in tamizh cinema as technical landmarks.

Sudd-Suddenly #3

2009-04-17T01:11:00.000-07:00

My dad has been advised to have his lower set of teeth removed and replaced with dentures. He isn’t too happy about it.
If we are all taught very young that ‘Aane vaala pal, jaane vaala hey’, will we be better prepared?

Rajnath Singh explains ‘Varun will behave’.
Whether good, bad or ugly seems to be the question.

Tata plan to expand their telephone and mobile network in rural areas.
Will the campaign ‘Tata in-de-gaun’ fit the bill?

haiku

2009-03-11T03:22:00.000-07:00

Monsoon:
Orphaned old lady in dire poverty
is dressed in a rich bright green velvet gown;
An abandoned well.

Kalai:
Asayaamal, amiedhiyaay amarndhirundhu, ivvoviyan
en nenjai thodum oviyangal theetugiraan;
Sattai pyeyill viethirindha yen ink pena.

loosely translated into:

Art:
Unmoved, sits this artist in silence,
and does paintings that touch my heart;
The ink pen in my shirt pocket.

Sudd-Suddenly #2

2009-01-22T20:49:00.000-08:00

9:30AM. Turned on computer at work and put on earphones.

Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day’s divinity
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it’s quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us…

The doors opened… I was transcended.

Sudd-Suddenly #1

2008-12-23T19:58:00.000-08:00

(Sudd-suddenly: Recording random thoughts)

NRI family at Thanjavur temple during their annual India visit.
Kid: Appa! Look… F1 elephant!
Dad: What?!
Kid: Look there… that elephant has a chequered flag painted on its forehead. Can we go for a ride…please, please?! I’m so bored. Let’s experience some G-forces!
Dad: Strange… wonder what that is. Is the Indian Govt already into promoting the 2010 Delhi GP? May be he’s the mascot, called…hmm… Thezu?
Mom: I think it’s a new marketing strategy by Mr. Mallaya for his Force India team.
Paati: Abhachaaram…abhachaaram! Is that wine-shop fellow now trying to penetrate our sacred temples and ruin their sanctity? Oh krishna paramaathma, protect us.
Thaatha: Calm down. That’s just the effect of criss-crossing of horizontal lines painted by one group and vertical lines by another.

Red she now stands tainted in

2008-12-11T04:43:00.000-08:00

Red she now stands tainted in.

Brutally scathed by two groups,
She appears ragged,
Smeared all over with red stains,
Stains of dirty red,
Stains of ugly red.

Group 1 -
Armed with heavy artillery,
bombs and sophisticated guns,
And fuelled by a brain-washed mind,
Shooting almost at ranges point blank,
They left her belly wounded and bleeding,
A horrific red,
An inhumane red.

Group 2 -
They shot, too.
Wielding weapons of a varied kind,
Driven by a brain-washed-off-all-sensitivities mind.
Earlier, a quick-fire conference had been summoned,
“the prime motive, I want us all to comprehend,
is that in the issue’s vigorous and relentless coverage
our ‘Terrorism Roko Pracharan’ we will aim to boost and leverage.
Cash-in Now News-brigade, Infiltrate Bombay’s Nerves.
Times Now Right-here, to present the never-before-seen
Nauseating-levels of Dramatized Terror Viewing.
infuse fear in the mind of the common man... to the TV sets, may he be stuck.
to step out, scared stiff should he be, like he has never been Aaj Tak.
and do remember the rule of the day… only flash news and breaking Headlines Today.
happy hunting!!!” they hi-five’d and dispersed.
Operating well beyond the point of cerebral-space-gone-blank.
sucking in anything seen around,
it, they cut, chopped, grated and ground,
chewed, chewed and chewed
and then on her, spat and spewed,
leaving her doused in red scum,
A cheap red.
A filthy red.

And then the great Indian circus trick,
Performed by a bunch of powerful political pricks.
One party cries foul over the other being ‘soft on terror’,
The accused scramble for a scapegoat to sacrifice,
in a desperate effort to cover up a costly error.
The spotlight falls on one… ageing but not ill,
The man known by many as ‘the one who’s always dressed to kill’.
“we know its difficult for you wise guy,
but looks like its become impossible for them to stand your banter
and this time they are all over us you see.. left, right and centre.”
“This doesn’t suit you well anymore” they go on to say,
“But if you aren’t sent home now… we just don’t stand a chance to stay”.

Yes… we have all shamelessly grown thick-skinned,
Sick of continuously getting ripped and skinned.
For we all know… those with power,
Blame games they will continue to play,
Bloody lame games that they always play.

Bright and vibrant colours,
well known for these has she always been,
But with colours having become filthy, fake and deceptive,
The need has now risen for her to come clean.
Let us all go colourless for a while,
no saffron… no green… no white…
And bring to a halt the grinding wheel of supremacy fight.

PS: inspirations to this post - RS's, KA’s and GS's

An SMS epitaph

2008-10-21T04:20:00.000-07:00

My new mobile had a fall,

simple and clean,

landing flat on its screen.

Streaks of bright yellow and green,

are all that is left to be seen.

beep, beep,

weep, weep...

Rest in peace.

Desire

2008-10-20T05:46:00.000-07:00

The eyes met.
A few moments passed, gazes still glued.
Within, emotions swelled... joy and desire, guilt and fear,
an intoxicating concoction of pleasure,
high on which, did the eyes dilate and shimmer.

The lips, they remained still... a shy stillness.

Then...
like the tiny glow, from behind a veil, of a lass' eyes,
born was a ray of light, her lips when they gently moved,
and there, tenderly sprouted, a little smile.

(This is a translation of ‘Eerpu’ posted earlier)

A spore of fire

2008-10-16T19:25:00.000-07:00

Well… I’m back to what I do the best… brood.

Not that I haven’t been doing this at all. Actually I do keep brooding most of the time, at every opportunity my mind feels a bit untied and temporarily disconnected from everything happening around. But, using a technical term (and since I have also been attempting some ‘subject-surface-scratching’ - trying to understand some very basics of the subject matter I have been handling for more than 2 years now) this can be called ‘implicit brooding’! Here you brood, but only within. Yes, I acknowledge that brooding is by itself an ‘internal phenomenon’, pretty much concealed from the external appearance. But the implicit variety is like going another shell or another layer inside. Call it ‘inner-internal-phenomenon’ if that makes things simpler or sounds acceptable. You are so bogged down by activities/tasks/things/duties that you are left with very little time to devote to anything else. And so you brood in gaps/intervals/breaks/pauses, only for a few moments before you are rewound and catapulted back to reality.

And then there is the other, the grand, independent, carefree, unperturbed sort – ‘explicit brooding’! The state of mind where the foremost slot of application of the mind is allocated to brooding, second to none. It drives the machine and everything else rides pillion. Lets call it ‘outer-internal-phenomenon’ to stay inline with the other variety’s description.

If you consider yourself a seasoned brooder, you will at once recognize this to be an activity which aids in attaining supreme mental satisfaction. To me, this is the satisfaction arising from a session of analyzing and streamlining emotions. Happiness, sorrow, confusion, complacency, inspiration…everything appears to distill down to a solitary feeling of anger, which in turn fuels a craving for creativity, fuels a drive to do only things I want to do and not need to do and fuels the urge to attempt that big-leap, from what appears like the bottom of the pit currently.

Agni kunjodru kanden,

Adhei angoru kaattilo pondhidie veithen,

Vendhu thanindhadhu kaadu,

Thazhal veeraththil kunjendrum moopendrum undo?

A spore of fire did I sight,

It, in the dense of a forest did I hide,

Burn down to ashes, did the forest.

In their blistering rage, can one say a spore of fire from a blaze?

Eerppu

2007-09-26T09:22:00.000-07:00

Vizhigal saendhana,

sila vinaadigal inaindhu ondraga nindrana,

ullangal irendilum perugi ezhundha aanandhatthil

kangal virindhana... jolitthana.

Udhadugalo… vetkathil asayamal nindrana.

Piragu,

mugavalaikkupin maraindhirindhu

siru oliyaai thondrum oru azhagiyin kangalaipol,

aval udhudugal sattre vilagiyadhu,

oliyin oru bimbam angu uyir kondadhu,

siru punnagai ondru angu mottu vittadhu.

A '?' day

2007-04-13T08:54:00.001-07:00

Today was a ‘question mark’ day.
One of those days where you keep questioning yourself as to why you are doing whatever you are doing.

Questions keep shooting out of your mind like bullets from a machine gun.
And the most difficult part is that you have to face these bullets alone, no army, no team. Try dodging them and you’ll see that they boomerang right back at you. There’s no escape, no refuge, the questions seem to work on the same principle as that of guided missiles.

Why did you join this company?
Why did you take up engineering?
Why are you working on such an outdated technology?
Why can’t you be technically strong in whatever junk you are doing?
Why are you still sticking on to this field even after you know its bad?
Why are you only mediocre in whatever you do?
Why cannot you make a firm decision on what you want to be?
When will you learn, gain knowledge and be a true champ at everything you do?
How difficult is the other stream you are trying to enter?
Will you survive if you take a plunge or will you drown?
Why can’t you dedicate even 1 hour everyday to improve yourself?
Why is this code looking endless?
Why is the logic appearing so undecipherable?
Why is the cafeteria playing music which is so loud and lousy?
Why isn’t anyone complaining against the bad quality of the food?
Why is it that everybody seems to be happy with the rip off prices?
Why is this cocky rotund clown my manager?
Why is he questioning me on my performance when he does not seem to know, in any sense, the word’s very meaning?
What qualities did they see in him to make him the manager?
Why are all the clocks appearing to run so slow?
Why can’t they function in the way you want them to?

At the end of the day you find yourself swimming against a high tide of questions. You are trying to reach the other side. But then you realize there isn’t a destination at all. Swim or sink. Its your call.

The Clockfools

2007-01-03T16:28:00.000-08:00

He pulls the blanket
past his eyes, and over his head.
he recalls the nights
when he slept cozily, curled up in his bed.
he seeks that silence,
he searches for that stillness,
he closes his eyes,
those blood-shot in the battle against sleeplessness.

Into a deep slumber, his mind he tries to thrust,
futile, he twitches and turns,
unable to overcome its state of unrest.
desperate, he sings himself a silent lullaby,
as louder grows the day's bustle,
he hears a school kid shouting "mummy...bye bye".

He is just one of them,
among the many thousands,
the ever growing group of the clockfools.
those who live by the clocks of far off lands,
their own, ticking, not clockwise,
but in what seemed, a clock-fool way.
fooling the sun and the moon,
fooling their own days and nights,
they fool themselves
of the hours dark and bright.

As he lies, still in the quest,
he sees sleep coming, still a little distant,
he thinks about his life, the way
his career seems to have begun, hitting rock bottom.
he hears his father waking up the gods,
busily chanting the venkatesa suprabaatham.

When it thawed

2006-12-29T07:24:00.000-08:00

He stood up and walked slowly and aimlessly, heading towards the edge of the hill.

Although he had sat there with the others, he stared straight, gaze fixed on the bottle of water, submerged in thoughts, isolating himself mentally. No comments, no jokes, he spent the time in silence while the others relaxed, had fun and eased away their weariness. The climb had been exhausting and everyone was trying to get back as much energy possible by consuming some snacks and fluids. He just took a few biscuits and a little juice, still mute in musing.

Several images crossed his mind... flickering, looping, growing dark and bright repeatedly like the fuse of a bulb moments prior to burning out.
He felt miserable at the control he lacked over his life. The independent, unstoppable way, in which it kept moving on, he felt stuck light years behind.

He hated every bit of his present state... his job, the 'software engineer' tag attached every time somebody referred to him, the talks about him 'settling down in life' which occurred almost every time relatives or friends spoke to/about him, codes and bugs, deadlines and commitments... it all made him feel sick, angry, guilty, helpless and lost.

The heat of the afternoon sun burned the skin on his cheeks as he stood, inches away from the edge, with an almost face-to-face glare at the sun.
the clouds, they appeared to him as if they were inviting him to float along, void of any responsibilities or constraints, nowhere in particular to go, no one in particular to meet, unstained and unstrained freedom.

"Just another step and you would be there" he said to himself.

"Would I really be missing anything if I were to proceed? Anything worthwhile for me if I restrain myself?"

As he continued contemplating, still looking intently at the silky white cloud, he heard someone approaching him. Not willing to be disturbed, he decided not to take notice.

"Hey mister software engineer... what are you doing here? Remote terminal bug
fixing eh?" said Anirudh, jovially, still a few steps away from sandeep.

He felt annoyed at this intrusion. He stayed inert, without responding, trying to neglect anirudh's presence.

Noticing this behaviour, anirudh decided not to probe too much. He walked up
to the edge, stood next to him and looked in the direction of the same cloud.
The next few minutes continued in silence, with both the men just staring at the sky.

Allowing the mind waves to settle down, giving it some time, anirudh said in a low, serious tone, sounding the least interrogative
"You seem to be looking for something".

sandeep felt he wasn’t being pulled into any silly talking and replied
"Hmmm... yes... searching for the thing i lost long ago... this thing called life"

"And what do you see up there?"

"Happiness... freedom... peace of mind... what not?"

"And how would you get all that?"

"Just another step pal... one small step" stressing on each of the words.

"Hmmm... damn simple right? Ok... go ahead... and then what would happen?...You'll be dead?" said anirudh in a bold, non-compassionate manner.

"Dead?... I won’t die ani... there is'nt any life left in me to die" said sandeep
trying to put across the statement as if it was a simple logical one.

While the conversation went on, neither of them looked at the other, still focusing on the same cloud.

"Ok... move forward slightly and look down" said anirudh, shifting gaze and looking directly into sandeep's face.

sandeep felt slightly puzzled at the pitiless way anirudh was talking, and could sense a small measure of fear rise inside. He just bent forward, firmly gripping his feet on the ground and looked down the drop. The wind was strong and it played silent songs into his ears. He stared at the bottomless depth. The openness and the emptiness that he saw made the fear inside him to grow. Just a few seconds and then he stood upright, looking at the sky. anirudh remained unmoved and silent. He could sense many things going through sandeep's mind. After a brief pause he said "so... what did you see?"

"Nothing... everything was blank" sandeep replied in a slightly scared and
weak voice.

"Hmm...you dint see a thing?"

No response.

"Ok... I’ll tell you what you saw." looking directly into his eyes "you saw life... its only when you stare into the face of death that you realize life."

sandeep dint say a word. His silence spoke it all.

anirudh tossed the bike key towards him and sandeep hurriedly caught it as if a
glass vase was thrown at him.

"Come" said anirudh turning towards away from the edge.

"Where?"

"Lets hit the road" anirudh walked away from him leaving him back in isolation.

sandeep looked at the cloud again, turned around and saw anirudh walking. The
rest of the group remained as it was, relaxing and having fun, unaware of the whole episode. He walked up to them and picked up a bottle of water and returned back to the edge. He let the water run down his face and watched it as it went down the drop, disappearing into the emptiness. He felt the cool of the wind blowing across his wet face.
He walked back to the guys, threw the empty bottle at one of them and said "ok guys... i guess thats enough of rest... get up.... lets go....
lets hit the road"

PS: This story nucleated from one of Anto's statements(antoniyms...as we know).
he one day said, when he was talking about the people at his workplace, "maam.... even if the floor above falls on them, they wont die maam... there's no life only...how will they die"

And this post is an ode to one of the few activities that injects a good dose of life into our lives... biking. Every single bike trip (and the small treks too) have been stand-out experieces in the otherwise monotonous life.

TYRANNY IRONY

2006-12-07T03:54:00.000-08:00

The synchronous yelling as i entered home, was completely incomprehensible. Mom, dad n sister went up in unison against me and the whole scene looked like a well-arranged symphony orchestra as each one played harmony to the other! The sound just kept amplifying and the intensity looked ever increasing! It took me almost five minutes to understand why i was at the recieving end of this sortie, and it made me furious. Left with no other options, i had to counter-attack and shout them down . Finally, what was the reason for all this.... i had forgotten to carry my mobile phone with me and had left it back home!!! They had tried calling me, ultimately discovering the phone ringing on the sofa (ta tada tatta tadatataaa!...supershtar's intro music in muthu was my ring-tone!!!)

"so what if i'v forgotten my phone" i yelled in irritation.

"how irresponsible u r... cant u inform us about where u r" mom said.
i had left home at 8 in the mornin n it was around 2 when i returned. jus normal hours of any day, that too broad daylight! I had set out with a big list of things to do, which included medical-check-up, train tick reservation n some bank-work, all of which involve tiring queues and encounters with government office staffs. It had been a 'victorious day' for me as i had successfully completed all of them. Satisfied and happy i returned back home to recieve such a 'welcome home hero!' kind of reception!

"But its jus 2 noon now... not 2 midnight right??? wat the hell is all this fuss about???"

"Some Police inspector had come home. he said he wanted some info for the passport enquiry.v told him tat u've gone out n would be back by 4 or 5. he told 'ivathu eradu orey thankaney irtheevee.... adhru munchey barakkidhrey barli... illandhre monday barak heli'.That is when v tried calling u but u had not taken your phone wit u. how foolish can u get. this is wat happens if u keep listenin to songs n keep watchin tv for 24hrs everday. Your brain's out of fuse (ahha... bio-physics??!!)... because of your daily lazy routine ...n u dint even bother to call up from outsid...learn to be more responsible in life....." mom was in fine afridi form... wat a blast!!!

"ok...ok... stop shouting unnecessarily n tel me whether he asked me to get any docu's or letter"

"s... letter from two neighbours, water or elec bills of 2 months"

"ok... did he ask you'll for any money?"

"s... he said 'navu maney-maney hogi yellardhu formu check maadbeku... namge solpa aenaadhru kottrey channagirathey'.... and i gave him 20bucks"

"these fellows will never improve" i said in disgust n hunted for a white sheet n wrote a short letter. my neighbours had no problems with signing it n i was ready wit all the docu's except for the bills.
My grandmom keeps all the bills wit her in an old purse, locked up inside her bereau. For some reasons still unknown to me, she gaurds all of them very carefully and makes sure nobody even touches them!!! She was hesitant in giving me any as she thought i was very careless n would, without any doubt, loose them!!!(and what would happen even if i lost some bills which are 2 or 3 years old?... i still cant understand)
it was already 2:20 and she was making too big a fuss in giving me the bills. Finally, with some support from other people at home, i managed to get two water bills dated aug04 n oct04!
I shoved all of the doc's into my (swamiji) bag and left to the station on my bike. In this hurry, I even skipped my lunch.

This was my first ever visit to a police station. Although i had driven/walked past it for more than 20 years, i had no idea of how the inside was. From outside, its an old building, looks very much like a police station(unlike the one on commercial street), with many siezed and damaged vehicles stacked outside. I parked my bike ouside, set my hair right and proceeded inside. The security personnel standing at the gate stared at me with a hint of suspicion, which i suppose was due to my long hair and untamed beard(porki-look putting in my mom's words!).
The garden was more of an arrangement of dull, potted plants and old trees, showing clearly the absence of any care or maintenance.The narrow path in between the pots led me into a room, lifeless and minimally furnished. I tried to rehearse in my mind, to enquire about the proceedings, in kannada, to save myself from any embarrasement or abuse!
Unfortunately, before i could complete this rehearsal, i encountered one policeman, sitting across the table.

As always, fumbling and mumbling, i asked "passport verificationgey bandhidhranthey.Naanu..."
Cutting me short,he said "Last room hogi".
Now, how do i know where the "last room" is, and the rooms were not even in any kind of order or line. So finally after some enquires, i reached the last room.

This was an extremely small room, stuffed in with a 2 tables, chairs, a cupboard, and tea cups and two cops!
One guy was sitting at the bigger table, who i presumed was the "bigger guy", and the other guy at the smaller table. Both of them had the typical government-office look, or simply the "RUFF AND TUFFU" look!!! And as always, they did not bother to notice some guy standing at the door.

"Excuse me sir" i said hesitantly.

"Hmmm...yaen beku" the small-guy said, while the big-guy still busy with his newspaper.

"Passport verfication...naan maneynal irlilla..." i repeated, sounding perfectly like a kannada-stranger, somehow i had to screw up my kannada sentences!

"hmmm... documents ella idhiya?... nodi, ivrey aapiser... " he said pointing me the big-guy, who by now, was trying to lift his eyes off the paper and look at me.

I moved forward towards his table and forced myself and wished him "good morning sir".

"Baa thamma... koothko... yaak ninthaidhiya" he said, sounding authoritatively polite.

Not knowing where to start, i once again repeated my line "passport..." and fumbled and sat down.

"documents ella thakond bandhidhiya thamma?" he asked

Digging into my bag awkwardly, i took out the file, pulled out the passport application and kept it across the table and weakly replied "ella documents idhey", almost swallowing the last part of the sentence.

Holding the form in one hand, he pulled down his spectacles with the other and adjusted it in order to give him a view of the form through the gap between his eyelashes and glasses. After a few seconds of silence, he asked "hesaru aenu thamma?"

Bloody, everything's written in the form and he's already seen it too, yet "varun, sir".

"hmmm..." he browsed through the form.

"signature haakidhiya thamma?"

"haakidheen sir" pointing to my signature on the form.

"hmm...idheyna... varuna... nin sign-allu pypu idhey alva... nin hesargey correctaag idhey..."

swoosh... super bouncer.... i dint understand a word of what he said!!!
i stayed still, wearing a blank face and confused silence.

he continued... "neeno varuna bhagavan... maelindha pypu haaki maley kodthiya... nin signaturallu pypu idhey"

ah... 'pipe', i thought 'pypu' was some strange kannada word! the bits fell into place and i understood that he was talking of the 'k' in my signature which looks like a pipe or an elephant trunk.
i did not know what to reply and prolonged my silence.

"yaen thamma... artha aitha... kannada gothalva ninge?"

"aan... gothu sir"

"inna yenu... neen yaenoo haeltha illa?"

"howdhu sir... that 'k' looks like... adhu... pipe thara idhey" fumbling yet again.

"nin sign nodbittu heyltheen thamma... neen life-alli thumba channaag bartheeya... "

clean bowled!!!... what the hell do i reply to a statement like this??!!
left with no other thoughts, i said "thank you sir"

"naan eno sumney heylthaaidheeni antha ankobeda thamma... i know handwriting and signature analysis... i have read manybooks"

"oh... seri sir", this was helpless acceptance.

"what are you doing now"

"BE complete maadidheen sir... kelsa join maadbeku"

"oh... thumba olledhu thamma... yaav caste neenu"

now... this is a very irritating question, something which arouses immense anger in me, everytime someone digged into.

"general merit sir" i said, using political terms.

"adhalla pa... yaav caastu?"

"brahmin" i said, in a straight forward manner.

"hmmm... dhevru olleydhu maadthaaney ninge... u will achieve whatever you dream of"

i was confused. why is he continuing with this kind of astrology? i tried to hit him back with sympathy...
"idhu ella nim thara dhoddavra aashirvaadha sir!"(he he... high quality butter!!!)

surprisingly, this made him slightly angry and he hit back at me "i dont expect you to talk like this... you are educated... neen eethara maathaad baardhu"

accepting defeat i meekly replied "seri sir"

"nodappa... you know why i said that... nan qualification gotha..."

how am i supposed to know all that, and why should i know? before i could give him an answer he annouced grandly...
"i'm a MA philosophy degree holder from mysore univ"

"oh... very good sir". i was astonished and at the same time doubtful of his truthfullness.

"naan odhidkey yaen kelsadhall irbeku... nan ill bandhu saerkondey"

was i suppose to feel sad for him or feel happy? was he proud of joining the police dept after a PG degree or was he sad for this decision he made? i dint know how to comprehend this statement of his. while all these thoughts were running inside my head and i was yet to respond, he continued...

"naan teaching kelsakke hogidhrey, ishtralli college dean athva univ chairman aagirbaudhu"

it was clear that he was getting angrier, may be only at himself and not at me, but still, anger is anger. it could all get redirected in my direction and withhold my passport application's progress! trying to console him i said
"yes sir... you would have definitely been in a better post, but even now you are in a very good field... a job which is respected and looked up by all... neevey publicannu rakshaney maadtheera... punyvaadha kelsa alva sir?" (every part of me inside was laughing as i said this, but i somehow managed to put up a face of encouragement and seriousness!!!)

few seconds of silence. the pep-up weapon misfired. he now was angry and disgusted over himself and a little over me too for speaking counter-sentiment statements.

"ee kelsakkay MA beda thamma... sslc paas agidhray saaku"
"you dont understand... naan ellindha bandhidheeni gottha... nan kutumba yaav thara ithu..."

oh... one big story coming my way, i understood.

"yaen sir"

"nan ooru XXXX graama, XXXXX town hathra idhey" (i'm not able to recall the village and town names he mentioned, but i could figure out that it was one of those very small, interior karnataka villages)

"nan thandhey thayee ryetharu... namgey dhina mooru sala ootamaadakkashtu sambala irlilla... bari raagi moddhey matthey solpa akki... ashtey"

his body language grew more and more intense as he continued narrating his story.

"nan thayee dhina nanannu ethkondu kelsakke hoguthidhlu. dhina devasthaana mundhey hogbittu kye jodisi praarthney maadthaa idhlu"
"hingay... hingay... bagsi... nanannu hidkondu... ammaaa... dheveee... ee magunaa neenay kaapadbekamma... dhina avangay haaloo akki kodamma..." he said moving his hands and body accordingly. high class dramatic acting, i should mention and what dialog delivery... flawless!!!

Pause. He removed his spectacles, placed them on the table and closed his eyes, putting his fingers on his eyes in a near tear-wiping manner.

"dhevru hathra ee thara praarthaney maadhidhlu nan thayee... adhakkey eno naan ivaaga hingidheeni"

confusion again! what does this guy expect from me?!

"nodi sir... yeshtondhu great thaayge huttidheera... avara praarthaney matthu blessings indha ney neevu life-alli ishtella maadidheera alva sir?" i still trusted the sentiment-weapon and re-fired it.
it almost worked fine this time.

"naanu police kelsakkay select aagidheeni antha nan thayee thandhay hathra haylidhaaga
avara mukadhalli santhosha noodirbayku"

"ishtu kashtapattu dhudidhu nanannu paalidhru... ee vishya kaylidh thakshna avara poorthi jeevanakkay ondhu artha bandhidhtharaa ithu avarigay"

"oh... howdhu sir"

"ondhu vaylay nan thaayi aa dhevarhathra akki haalu badhlu, nan maganigay olle sikshaney kodamma antha kaelidhrey ee thara aagirattha?"

i was running out of statements in kannada, yet, i managed to pull off one more
"aadhroo avaru kaylidhrallu kooda ondhu artha idheyalva sir... nim thaayigay nim sikshaneykintha nim jeevana santhoshanay mukyavaagithu... adhakkey avaru hung praarthaney maadhidhru sir"

"enoppa... ivaaga avarpunyadhindha nangay kye thumba sambla, mooruvalay oota ella sigthaidhay... dhina madhyaana nangmaathra illa, yaaradhru innobrugu oota thagond bartheeni"

"oh... olleydhu sir"

he said he was indebted to her all his life and suddenly asked
"artha aaitha thamma... jeevanadhalli mundhay barakkay yaavaglu dhoddavargay mariyadhay kodbeku"

oh... 'moral of the story' eh?!!

"howdhu sir... nimthara dhoddavara aashirvaadhdindhanay nan thara chikkavarigay olledhu aagathay"

"seri thamma... documents ella idhayalva..."

finally... the story's over!!! i wanted to escape from the scene asap.

"ella hitidheeni sir"

"seri thamma... nim kaday indha namgay aenaadhru kodboudhandhrey..." he said with an endlessly extending drag.

there we go. it had to come. i was surprised how this topic was not raised until now.

i acted as if i did not understand what he said "yaen sir... nangay artha aagilla sir"

"illa thamma... nam stationary, papers intha expensegella namgay solpa sahaya maadhidhray chanaag iratthey"

for a minute, i wanted to argue about all the moral values he spoke in his flashback and what he wanted now. but i knew all this was a beautifully set up drama to finally arrive here. it inevitably had to. so i paid him 50 bucks and thanked him(for what?!)

he was not happy with the outcome. just 50 bucks for all the efforts he had taken. but i was confident he wont press me for more.

"ollaydhu thamma... hogbaa... dhevru ningay olledhu maadthaanay... horgadey sikkidhray bayti agona"

i walked out of the 'theatre' and started my bike. a smile dawned upon my face.. i thought..i won.

conscious in coma

2006-10-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

Here, i put down my present state of mind...the whirlpool of thoughts spirallin endlessly in my head.

LOOPED INTO INFINITY....
wake up at 6 in the morning to time's tight slap on the face... my race with time starts off there after.... get ready.... get bottled in traffic... reach offic.... stand in a long queue to sign in, only after which u r allowed to enter inside... sit at the comp... listen to dumb lectures.... sign un-dated bonds.... eat... back to the code n the lessons on white board.... let off... q again to sign out... engulfed in traffic once more.... eat....sleep.... get slapped again.... wake up.....

the machine runs.... will have to run.... don know exactly y though.... fear of joblessness? family responsibility? success-drive? compulsion?

my mind has never been this interrogative like this until now...these few days have flooded me with thoughts about everything happening around me... may be im jus not percieving things the right way, but some of the questions risen inside jus dont seem to die... occuring and re-occuring.... never fading,never dying thoughts.

KNOCK-KNOCK.... QUALITY???? ANYBODY HOME????
assuming that i was moving higher as i moved from uvce to an mnc, i seeked quality. this feeling seemed natural to me, afterall all of us know the kind of dirt-level we put up with in our college lives.... but things look no diff here... the work, quality of training, the training staff, facilities, peer group, everything fell way below my expectations....

CAMPUS TO CORPORATE WORKSHOP.....BRAINS SHUT-SHOP!!!
this was a 4-day mega-farting session... everything about u is already laid down like rules of a game...u were a jerk in college.... u had no responsibilities... u were nobody then, value null.... now u r a dignified working proffesional.... u were never respected then, but u'l be revered now, provided u r a puppet to any sort of insructions given to u...

and then the steps to be followed if u want to reach higher in the 'corporate ladder':
how u have to talk, walk, dress, eat, piss,(rub??!!).....
u r no more urself.... u r a team-member...
concentrate, be on time all the time,n so on n on n on....

what the hell is all this man? cant these things be picked up by anybody as days go by? should v be instructed in everything v do? is a 'coaching' required for all this? n y cant anything outside these meaningless boudaries be socially decent or respectful or correct?

who's to say whats for me to say?
who's to say whats for me to do?
who's to say whats for me to be?
cos a big nothig it'l be for me!!!! ;) ...(mustaine)

LIFE GOES ON.... OUT ON A LEAVE
I remember the first words of the trainer during the Campus to Corporate shit..... she said

now everythin u say has a meaning.....everything u do in life has a meaning.... i asked(only to myself) ....ok... but does life actually have a meaning???
im not trying to sound very philosophical... neither am i trying to make some kinda fundoo statement.... its jus a plain straight forward ques...

the mentality of many ppl around leaves me puzzled... all that they seem to bother about is only the next step. wat im tryin to say is... statements like..."oh maga... studies aithu.... kelsa bandhaithu... nextu ondhu olle hudugi sikbitrey saaku.... ashte...life settledu"
understand??? i this is all life about?

is life jus about growing up n working n gettin married n having kids??? it looks like as is life is jus about creating problems for ourselves n then finding solutions to them n then seeking happiness in doin so. is there nothing more life's gotta offer?

whats happened to tat old 5-letter word 'dream'? weren all of us supposed to dream big when v were young? but when v r big the dreams r all gone. ambitions n dreams r slaughtered, sacrificed in the name of acceptance of life.
accordin to me, children should be taught never to dream or have ambitions. cos, dreams r inevitably going to come under the crushing wheels of the act-of-existance and the art-of-survival, get killed, rotting into valueless fossils of a what-cud-hav-been-life.

the way the lives of most of us r lived, seems so stereotype n similar at the base level....as if it were all pre-programmed....jus strip off the cloak of work or designation from the body of life n observe... the similarity is undeniably true n sad... they r all like clones...

our life thru school til colg is spent in triviality...

colg days in some increased maturity, occasionally even revolutionary thinking... but responsibilites reveal the inevitable futility of any revolution...

then on life is spent in an unsettled slurry of activities tryin to 'settle' in life....

(it reminds me of the matrix!)

we all somehow seem to fix our lives on to this 'life-cycle' n jus let our lives be driven by it, ultimately turnin into mere spectatators of our own lives....

i think the nuclues of this flawed-system lies in the way most of us r brought up.... right from early school days, v r always taught to 'enjoy what v do' n not 'do wat v enjoy', be it by teachers or parents....
y cant one be taught to do wat he likes until n unless it is against the law or someone els.... V can all continue to go on the same way, tryin to enjoy wat v do, but for how long???

FUEL FOR SURVIVAL....
even as i write this.... im thinkin of work... thinkin of some program which had gone wrong in class yesterday.... yes, even i find it strange, but i think thats the way things start to happen....
its some sort of mind-seige or seizure of the brain where any conflicting thoughts are annihilated...

existance just caves in n life gets sucked in... into bottomless pits of living, of routine, of indifference, and the inevitability of events strung together n told to be accepted as life.

the traumatic environment surrounding the mind, ignites many thoughts like career-suicide or substance-assistance, but somehow i've been over-powering these thoughts by adhering to certains decisions. The book 'a million little pieces' has induced certain interest in Tao philosophy, along with which ive deviced some of my own, creating a set of guidilines according to which i try to tame my mind :

Never judge anything. its only when things r judged, that v decide that somethin is good or somethin is bad. its only then that v develop interest or disinterest in it. avoid judge anythin. do not accept or reject anythin. just let it be.

Geographical boundaries, territory, language, religion, sect, etc must hold no relevance in life or in any decision-making. stay neutral. do not love or loathe, develop no affection or aversion towards anyone from any particular geographical division.

And, as James Frey says in his book..... hold on.