Tauba tera Jalwa

I live in a funny place. Let's see. The other night I got away quiet as a cat, to catch the late show of DevD. I was Desparate. Asking the missus along was out of the question. Firstly, this is the exam season, and she's busy with young Ayushi. Moreover I sensed she might not like it ( I'd heard the second half dragged a bit.) As luck would have it, the screen (screen, is an overstatement. It's actually the friendly neighborhood movie hall) was showing only matinee and evening shows of the flick. For some odd reason, Speed returns(hindi)U/A was showing on the night show. Not amused, I quietly crawled back, to many a jibe from wifey and dear daughter, gleeful at my misadventure. But did I give up? Hell no, I Was desperate.

Thus it happened that this afternoon I played possum and left office early, feeling terribly guilty and all, remembering the hazy old days of bunking school as a kid to watch Shakti . There were, in all, about thirty people in the theater, none of them older than 20. I was in a time warp. I was quite enjoying the film. Then, fifteen minutes from the end, with the story going around in circles, oh, another one of those childhood miracles. Blackout in the theater. Did I mention time warp?

It took inordinately long for the show to resume. After what seemed like a hour and a half(but was actually seven minutes), during which I'd completed two phone conversations and was now seriously weighing my options, action came back on screen. The film dragged to its compromise ending. Am I glad I stayed back till the end? I don't know. But boy did I enjoy my absconding schoolboy act? you bet.

Watch more Dailymotion videos on AOL Video

About the movie. Anurag Kashyap has a way with scripting. Like everybody else is saying, the first half is flawless. If Anurag's treatment has grabbed you by the collar from the very first frame, towards the end of the first half he lifts his craft to such a crescendo, it's like, where do we go from here?

Abhay Deol. One hears Amir Khan has kept a dog named Shahrukh. This lad can raise a kennel full of Khans one of these days. It's a pity his films are hardly getting mass attention. Then maybe it's better this way.

Mahi Gill. What can I say? Watch her to believe. In many ways she became the essence of Paro than in any other version we've seen. You'll say her role has been written too well. But then, you get a feeling she has that ability to redefine every character she plays.

I could go on about every bit player. But the truth is Mr. Kashyap has given his characters so much meat and so little greasepaint, you get to like his folks instantly. I simply loved the three singer/dancers who act as some kind of set prop to Dev's decadence. They reminded of the three balladeers in There's something about Marie, yet so different. It was funny in a very dark sort of way.

If Devdas, as in the original, was essentially about love lost and self-destruction, in the modern day version, he is more about lovelessness and decadence. He can get so bad he'll make SRK's Dev look like a teenager stealing a smoke by the side of the school gym. At the same time he'll be infinitely more vulnerable with his skinny frame curled up in just a pair of dirty jeans on the brothel floor. Coming back to it, that is the whole point of Anurag Kashyap's interpretation. One feels mighty impressed by his work. Towards the denouement of his film he looks a little lost, true, but that's acceptable for somebody with the kind of storyline he has taken on.

I'm afraid I'd given a miss to No Smoking owing to bad reviews. But come March, I'm not going to miss Gulal. It'll be fascinating to watch where Mr. Kashyap goes from here.

I'm out
(as in "I've outed myself", more commonly used for gay people exposing their sexual orientation, though not in that sense)











Nobody really wanted to see what I look like. I know. However, the editing of these videos was a painstaking process. Took me the better part of a week. I wanted to put up at least micro clips somewhere on the web. In these clips, the bespectacled fellow with an oversized round balding head is me. (many people have compared my features with Subhas Chandra Bose). Likewise the missus and the lass.
We'll be traveling to Khajuraho, Bandhavgarh and Pachmari with a brief touchdown at Jabalpur the second week of March. Anyone who can share some travel tips esp. the journey from Khaj to Bandhavgarh and availability and rates of vehicle rental in the area, please do. I'll be grateful.

p.s. As compared to utube which sucked big time, Vimeo was a breeze. Uploading speed was fantastic and features offered for a free account were great.

Get a life
(Background score :
I wonder why nobody don't like me
Or is it a fact that I'm ugly?)


For many many months now, I've seen people summarily dismiss and humiliate people just with the expression "get a life." Now, this would be quite acceptable if the recipient of the insult was overly stressed over where did Kim Kardashiyan get her tattoo or who does David Beckham's nails. But what of those people who have got a life that seriously curbs their, um.., life? At least one definition of the phrase suggests it can also mean get a paying job, or something to that effect. And here I am so weighed down by a day job, my e-life languishes. I look overawed at the blogs of the Bertie Woosters and Ms Butterwicks of today who never seem to worry about paying the rent. They appear to have all the time in the world to seek out every WTFness in the news, attend movie premieres, art exhibitions and fashion shows, travel countries, and then manage to put up meaningful and entertaining blog entries almost everyday. Such beautiful people! I wonder why do I put in so much effort to even try. Where can I even start? Where are these lives, waiting to be gotten?

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It's a mean season. This is that time of the year again. The kid has an exam on Environmental Studies on the morrow. Announced only today. It's evening, she's cramming, and her mother is helping her cram. In these matters I, in the household is as much help as the pest control during a cardiac emergency. Nay, as the fitness instructor during bridal makeup, or, better even, like a quarterback in a home run. I could go on, but I sense you've got the picture. I'm completely out of depths, much useless, kaput. Even then I sometimes saunter in on their study session. The results are like this :

(Fill in the blanks Q&A)

Mummy: During a case of nosebleed, you should ______ on the head of the patient
Daughter : .......................
I (hoping against hope): sit?
Daughter : pour water
dark stare.

Mummy: you should also ask the patient to breathe through his____.
Daughter :...........
I (a bit more hopefully now): eyes?
expletive.

Mummy: you should furthermore ask the patient not to __________.
Daughter :...........
I (in utmost earnest): be impatient?
At this point I have to hide in the bathroom to avoid flying objects. Apparently blowing the nose was that one taboo. Who'd have thunk?

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I've decided to get away a little tonight and watch DevD. Alone. It's sacrilege even to propose such a joint outing to the missus at this hour of crisis. If I come back happy I'll try to write about it. The 12 Mb clip of the first part of travel video has failed to upload on utube after a good night's effort. I'll retry.

In the meantime, bitten by Naren's bug, I've written this little couplet :

O beloved Balma, I could die to see your one smile
Tho' with all your lipids, I'd rather you ran a mile

Don't take chaddis lightly!

On a fine day many moons ago, we were in the presence of RK the sage. (I believe I've introduced him earlier on this blog). Being the keen observer of human situations he is, RK was making his trademark original observations. Presently over chai, we got talking about the improved buying power of the middle class in India, their good life thanks to a rising disposable income and nonsense like that. Somewhere in the middle of it, RK wondered aloud : "All you ever talk about is a better standard of living. How is it better, I ask you, when I still haven't got more than a coupla chaddis in good shape. It never went from two to three. The old ones will retire in a week whenever I buy a new pair." This was quite some years ago, and the observation struck a chord. For until then, we used to buy chaddis in pairs and inevitably, not too early. The concept might sound a little dated now as we're well into the American way of life. Then again, maybe not. Consider this. If we buy two, we get three free. In no time, two of them mysteriously disappear from the clothing lines (or the machine eats them, I'm not too sure) and we're back to status quo.

But I'm not back after a longish break to theorize on chaddis. In fact, I'm mighty peeved over the way the venerable chaddi is being tossed about over a piffling non-issue. For one thing, I don't really fancy the celebration of Valentine's day. In fact I'd go so far as to contest the very existence of such an institution. You may well argue that this is because back when I was young, it did not exist, and I never got to waste my parents' money on the occasion, and you'd have a point there, but what the heck anyway.

What I prefer however, is something more direct and impacting. More importantly, something one can afford to give away freely (after all you don't give away something you've got only a pair of, at any point of time). Why not send to the Sri Ram Sene something which they should think is more alien to Indian Kulture than chaddis? Something that suggests immoral activity in their eyes more powerfully? With that objective, I'd send them this over the coming weekend:


p.s. We hope to resume regular programming pretty soon. It's just that of late the urge to post has ebbed a mite. We watched Slumdog and tinkered with the idea of damning it with faint praise. But valuable days passed by. We'd been preoccupied. Among other things we were caught up in post production work for the DVD release of our last year's vacation video. The missus gave an ultimatum that there'd be no vacation this March unless we finish the video beforehand. We plan to post a clip here. In the interim, we are trying to watch Vicky Cristina Barcelona and write on the experience. Coming March we'll be off to parts of Madhya Pradesh, plans for which are underway. Hopefully that will be good for more stories after that trip.

p.s.2 All of the above is bull, of course. All I need to do is keep off the Savita Bhabhi forums if there's to be any hope for this 'ere blog.

Update : I swear on my chaddis I didn't know of their existence at the time of going to press. The thought had just occurred independently to me, I guess, though in a different way.

Bravo !

We heart Sanjay Dutta of TOI for doing the other side of the story on the failed strike of oil PSUs. This was a strike that had our full moral support as officers of Navaratna brotherhood, since our fates are tied together. Full support, notwithstanding the mad rush for the last drop of fuel at the petrol pumps, and the worry over how to cook dinner without gas, the kind experienced by the whole country. (Of course, we could not go on strike on our own. There are reasons for this. For one, nobody seems to bother if our seel plants stop rolling out bars, sheets and coils for a few days. Or weeks, if we so fancy. In fact, we can almost hear a faint "good riddance". The second thing is that we are cowards. Under extreme aggrievement (not a word. I know), we might consider wearing a "black badge", but please don't ask for more. But I digress...) Our Government, with uncharacteristic toughness, had quashed the oil strike. The groundwork behind the heavy handedness involved a clever manipulation of media, which helped build massive public antagonism against their cause. Take this for example, on that same newspaper two weeks ago. To say nothing of the self styled soapbox newscasters of Aaj Tak and Zee News (Desh bhar me mach gayi hahakar, tel adhikari kar rahe hain betan barhane ka byapaar..)
It seems the oil executives, flailed by the government propaganda machinery more than anything else, have at last anonymously approached the media to let out their story. A good story it is, too. I quote :

Among the things let out by the government is that the starting salary of these officers is Rs 1 lakh and it goes up to Rs 3 lakh — an amount that does not justify their demand for even higher salaries, especially at a time when the economy is struggling to stay afloat.
The government contention is false. Not just that, it is aimed at creating a national "consensus" for a severe crackdown that would break the officers' back. This is why it has sacked over 70 officers, and with its motivated propaganda, created an atmosphere where the officers have no forum to present their case.
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This is the salary slip of a Grade B officer in an oil PSU, who is an engineer and an MBA to boot, with five years of service. Here's what the officer got this November — his gross salary came to Rs 38,772 and after deductions, he got a net salary (or take-home salary) of Rs 22,890. And in this case, the deductions were less as the officer has not taken any loan from the company.
.................................................
So, he took home a little less than Rs 23,000. Now, compare this with what professionals of his qualification would be getting in the private sector. This is despite the fact that oil companies are among the most cash rich companies in the country. And this is also despite the fact that bureaucrats, teachers and others have all got hefty pay hikes.

"Attaboy"! We cheered Mr. Dutta. Having suffered the iniquity for so many years oneself, one couldn't have put it better. We mean, this is the voice of support we really needed after all the damage the same publication has done. Sob stories help sell newspapers, but don't amount for anything in this context. Not that this also could help much, since the bureaucracy has maneuvered the situation into an irreparable no-win zone.

So what's the real story? What were the oil PSUs offered and what did they want?

PSU Pay panel recommendation

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Other literature recommendations

The committee headed by Justice MJ Rao submitted their recommendation in last June. They had categorized the CPSEs into five grades. For the topmost A+ category, mainly Navaratnas, they had proposed higher risk pay and performance related incentives across the board. This report was in public domain, viewable by all who could withstand 27 pages of tables and legalspeak. The A+ category was poised to gain substantially. This got the babus green with envy that many executives of top PSUs were going to earn more than them. When in November the proposals came up for approval, they cleverly scrapped away the A+ category, bringing all profit making PSUs in the same grade, irrespective of size, profitability, performance record and importance to the nation. At the same time they whipped up such frenzy that every newspaper, business spread or news channel would refer to the revision thus approved, nothing but a bonanza, a windfall, a jackpot. There were publications bringing forward lone voices of discontent, but these were washed away under the deluge of misinformation.

The oil PSU officers only wanted the proposals in the original report to be implemented in toto. With full clarity towards the variable part of their pay. But it was not to be. The gormint servants wouldn't have any of it.

I will stop ranting right here. If anybody at all has wondered why I didn't write anything in the interim, let it be known that minimum wage earners do not blog much. Adios, amigo. Will post if and when I've got enough to keep the home fires burning.

Rab and aur sab


Do you see Rab, i.e, God, in Shah Rukh Khan's countenance? Do you, Punk? Because this young lady here, she does. And, of course I don't. But then I've had myopia since about the same time they discovered Ethiopia, which was way before this young lady was even up to the task of wetting her nappies. The lady has a condition, you say? Pity, no? Such a fetching young girl. Like a breeze of fresh air, a friend remarked. Like the girls in breeze soap commercials, I added. Anoushka, her name was. Proficient in every-thing. Dancing, emoting, raising hell on a hyabusa, you name it. Only thing she has a glitch with is her face recognition software. It seems she has difficulty in identifying people every time they change their clothes, don a pair of contacts, or put mousse in their hair. No problemo, I said. You only gotta buy yourself a lenovo, lady, and you're all set. (Wait ! Are those lenovo laptops designed to recognize chhote nawab's mug only? food for ponderance.)

Decades ago, one thirty-something filmmaker had told a story of a couple who got married by circumstances. How they lived the bliss of love blooming haule haule in the surroundings of mundane domesticity until tragedy struck, was the mainstay of his masterpiece, celebrated for decades around the world. Ever afterwards, dozens of films have been made in India with a similar starting point. The premise is a tad frayed at the edges. Umpteen directors good, bad and ugly have grabbed that ball and run with it. Until one day, the ball dropped. With apologies to John Donne, one needn't send to ask on whom the ball dropped, it dropped on Adi.

Several reviewers have trashed the movie and vent disappointment over Aditya Chopra's fall from grace. I wouldn't dwell on it. Let me list the positives. The sets are good. SRK as the bespectacled John Doe a.k.a Surindar Sahni gets a B- plus for effort. But only as Suri, mind you. In his other avatar he is insufferable. If you can skip the movie but sneak inside the hall at about 70 minutes into the proceedings, you could stay for 5 minutes and watch the Shyamak Davar choreographed Bollywood tribute dance, which I found kind of nice despite ghastly music. Especially Kajol briefly impersonating Nargis which was really something. And surely among positives, young Anoushka too, she's a darling. I can never forgive Adi Chopra for giving her a wrong launch. In spite of being YRF product with an Amritsari backdrop, the film has very little sarson-da-saag and makki-di-roti, like some apprehensive souls had feared.

What else is there? Oh, SRK will walk out of this debacle unscathed. Same for Yash Raj Films, who look like they can take 10 flops for every moderate hit they make. Not so much Aditya Chopra, whose credentials as the midas man should take a serious beating after this.

The year end is drawing nigh. It's been a pathetic year for the big budget vehicles for top league Mumbai stars and directors. The biggest success among which was perhaps Singh is Kingg, a fact that pretty much tells the whole story. I'm, however, going to put my money on the Christmas release. Maybe Amir has a finger on market pulse. Maybe Ghazini will deliver. One lives in hope.

My country

My pics

This evening I was rummaging through backup discs of my old PC. Here is one gem I found, and I can't help sharing it.

A resounding left hook for the pacifists' cause.