Will the real Dhurandhar please stand up ?

Arrival of “Uri” in 2019 – directed by a first timer - Aditya changed something in Hindi film industry.  It was technically brilliant, had great music, entertaining, but more importantly fused facts and fiction seamlessly with the narrative tilting towards the “ political dispensation” of the time.

This set the cat among the “progressive” pigeons. Here was someone with the craft to narrate the story of the other (Right – pun unintended) side. It didn’t matter that the “”facts” shown were accurate, what triggered the liberals was the unapologetic nationalistic tone. How can someone be so openly nationalistic in a “Secular” nation !

“Article 370” again being factual, depicted a fictionalized version of the whole process of the abrogation. Subtly but firmly toeing the government’s line, it was technically adept, engrossing cinema. To top it , the protagonists were female, with both in positions of power and agency. How can patriarchal, misogynistic, right wing can produce such a movie. This is not the “DEI and feminist” India that the liberals envisioned. The murmurs of propaganda grew louder when they realized that Uri was not a flash in a pan.

2025 has to be the year where the Overton window has firmly shifted. “Baramulla” with its metaphorical, layered story telling and usage of meta-physical horror to enhance the real life horrors experienced by a large community showed that the Right now has mastered the art of subtle messaging that the Left had monopolized for decades.  Nothing could be faulted - the story, screenplay or the technical aspects. Praise – though begrudgingly and back handedly – had to be accorded.

With Dhurandhar, another bastion too has been breached. The mainstream masala– the rags to riches, henchman to the mafia top boss, spy saving the country – genre has now been appropriated to tell a “Right” wing story and the way it does has truly rattled those who extolled ISI helping RAW to thwart a terrorist  attack (where the villain is disgruntled ex-Indian spy) as peak cinema. Again it doesn’t matter, Dhurandhar when its being factual it gets all the facts right, does it skillfully, subtly highlights the cost paid by the country due to the “inefficiencies” for previous political masters and roots for a regime which cares for the nation. Most “critics” and the “liberals” are now in panic mode. Here’s some one who can beat them in their own game has truly arrived. Hence the comparison to Leni Riefenstahl.

When the protagonist in "Dhurandhar" declares, "Unke ghar mein ghus ke maarenge," it's not just the character speaking but Aditya himself. He infiltrated the high temple of secularism, learned the tricks of the trade, and used them against the very people who had long dictated what the masses should see and what constituted the moral fabric of society. Aditya has firmly established himself as the true "Dhurandhar."

Thoughts on Overlord

So, this much-hyped sequel to a surprisingly decent masala star vehicle—one that had enough substance to keep even non-fans interested—has finally been released.

Addressing the Bajrangi (pun intended)in the Room

For those who grew up in the eighties and were educated the way we were, the opening of the internet in the 2000s was a literal eye-opener. Exposure to the vast expanse of information—far beyond what we were fed—led many who considered themselves liberal, secular, rational, and centrist to realize just how skewed those terms had become. Suddenly, they found themselves labeled as Sanghis.

As a result, people today are so sensitized that they detect conspiracies and propaganda everywhere, primed to scrutinize everything for bias.

So, when scenes of the train burning and the subsequent riots play out on screen, viewers will inevitably interpret them through either saffron-tinted or 'secular' lenses, drawing their own conclusions. The filmmakers certainly play loose with facts, portraying one side as the clear aggressor. The imagery and music only enhance this bias.

The titular lead speaks exclusively in riddles, quoting scriptures (of the secular kind), without uttering a single normal dialogue. Meanwhile, the uncouth, illiterate goon vents his anger in cruder language.

There is an attempt at (monkey) balancing with token characters from both sides making inane statements about their gods saving each other. Later, another attempt at balance comes in the form of a terrorist shouting Death to Kaffirs.

Beyond this, the film touches on various themes: the North vs. South divide, Hindi imposition, a northern party gained prominence in a western state while attempting to break into God’s Own Country, central agencies (caged parrots) being used by the Centre to suppress state voices, and a single party standing as a bulwark against communal violence to protect the people. The villian mouthing words to the effect of, 'I don't like colour green'.

Anyone outraging against this is as entitled to their reaction as those who did the same against The Files and The Story that came out earlier.

Intellectual or Pretentious?

With Kerala’s mundu-lifting, Inquilab Zindabad-shouting politics thrown into the mix, the film attempts to weave in geopolitics, globe-trotting intrigue, deep state conspiracies, Axis-Nexus theories, drug and human trafficking, and terrorism. The filmmakers want you to believe that your intellectual side is being engaged, while your craving for mass masala entertainment is also being satisfied.

It’s Just a Movie, After All

Does it boast a scale never before seen in Malayalam cinema? Absolutely. In fact, it almost feels like a calling card for Hollywood.

Ummm... But...

A paper-thin story, embellished with highfalutin dialogues, stretched out to a painfully slow pace as if playing at 0.75x speed, and to top it all off, every single shot of the star treated as an introduction shot—slow motion, gun-toting, shades-wearing foreign extras striding like stormtroopers. Symbolism and imagery are crammed into nearly every frame.

One hot mess is what it is.

Intentional or Unintentional Takeaways

What is a liberally secular person’s wet dream? 

Stephen and Zayed saving God’s Own Country from Bajrangi.

Unsolicited Advice to a Scion of Political Royalty

This isn’t your cup of tea. Hand it over to your sibling and stand behind her in support.

Final Word

One can't deny the fact that it is excellently marketed to create FOMO

If you don’t intend to watch it, you are smart. And for those waiting for the OTT release—hope and pray that it lands on a platform that allows you to increase the playback speed.

As for the 3rd part, there are enough indications that it will be more of the same.

Office Move

We just moved offices. The new location is your typical IT park set up at the outskirts of the city with every builders worth their salt have built towers of either offices or apartments. When you enter the area from the highway, its like entering a jungle albeit a concrete one.

The old office was located  between a Jail and a Mental hospital - which was very well cause in the industry I work for you have every chance of ending up in one of those two places.

There was greenery every where - thanks to a defense establishment and airport nearby which has dissuaded the builders from encroaching the land for their ugly erections. There was a great view of both sun rise and sun set from the office floor.

The surroundings were buzzing. A ground where kids played cricket, shanties which started illegally - later legitimized by local politicians for vote banks, food and cigarette stalls which were thronged by techies. Periodic ' raid' by the municipal authorities, demolishing these stalls , only for them to crop up the next day after suitable greasing of the government machinery with lubricant called bribe. Water logging during rains. In short, it was a perfect microcosm of life.

There was a wide and long stretch of road in front, which I used to take every day to reach office on foot. That road had  more character and life than the entire locality where the new offices are situated.

Kids taking a dump on sidewalk oblivious to a snake slithering away nearby. People from the shanties performing their morning ablutions by the road side. Street dogs establishing their dominions and going crazy when dog parents getting their child pets for their walks. Cows and Pigs sauntering in the middle of the road. Health buffs running, walking , performing calisthenics. People sitting and consuming desi liquor in mineral water/soft drinks  irrespective of the time of the day or those with expensive cars , drinking beer or imported whiskies. The addicts who rolled up joints and lighting them up. Couples talking sweet nothings, arguing, giving vent to their hormonal urges. And not to mention the quintessential Pune traffic, whic ia akin to playing Russian roulette.

At night it was a place for people to perform black magic (given it was a junction where three roads met and all that mumbo jumbo). You could see the remnants of  this in the morning, strewn on your path with the hope that someone would step on them and take all the bad luck with them.

All these will be missed.

Why Kalki should win?

 For long , Indian (especially Hindi) film industry has been trying to recreate the Hollywood movies in India and failing for most of the times They have often ended up being all glitz with no soul. Even though the budgets, the technology have increased over time, the movies have always been cheap copies of the west.

But down South , a director named Rajamouli seemed to have discovered the DNA of a summer tentpole blockbuster. Through his initial movies he ensured that he honed his desi masala creds and slowly amped up his ambitions, culminating in the Bahubali and RRR juggernauts, which straddled the desi masala  and western technical wizardry and epicness admirably. 

He also has inspired a generation of young film makers who have now dared venture out to tell stories which wouldnt have been possible few years ago. While KGF, Salaar told stories which were at their root typical Indian masala tropes, movies like Karthikeya, Hanu-man had a wider vision, blending mythology in to the story. 

That brings us to the latest offering from the Telugu - Kalki 2898AD. For someone who has been exposed to all the sci-fi, Fantasy, super hero movies of the west, one can see bits of every such movie in Kalki.

A dystopian future world, a despot ruling with iron fist, oppressed people, a rebel faction, a prophecy, the coming of a saviour, a happy go lucky hero with a golden heart becoming The Chosen One. You name it, Kalki has it. 

But before you dismiss it as another clone of the west, its vision and scale takes you by surprise. The way the threads from our mythology, ancient epics dovetails in to a sci-fi world really takes some imagination. There is also a big leap in technology (though at some places it could have been better - or may be the 3D conversion messed up some of the CG effects). The detailing of the dystopian world, the gizmos, costumes fit in beautifully.

Its not without its flaws. Forced humour, a sparkless romantic track which doesn't go anywhere, a song and dance sequence out of nowhere bogs the movie down. 

Understandably the first half is slow with all the world building and character establishment. The second half picks up with  action set pieces and the revelations. The climax inevitably leads to a cliffhanger, setting up for the sequel in this Kalki cinematic universe.

Performances, Amitabh makes you feel the weight of the guilt he is carrying and the redemption he is seeking. The technology makes him kick ass and sending people flying all over. Prabhas, disappointingly is one note. Deepika has one expression through out. All the celebrity cameos are fun as standalone, but in the overall scheme of things they are a distraction.

Despite it succumbing to the various pitfalls of the Indian commercial film making, Kalki is an achievement. It has a vision,  blends in mythology with sci-fi efficiently and has epic written all over it. It should succeed, not just for the production of the sequel (the story is incomplete), but for it shows that the Indian directors are now not only  ready mine our own mythology, epics, history (which has thousands of such stories) but also mix them up with sci-fi to come up with modern epics.

Clarkson's Farm - Modern day James Herriot ?

 

When I was young, James Herriot took us on a journey in to the world of British farming.

His vivid description of the farming , the animals, the ups and downs in the life of farmers made me feel I am with him experiencing what he was describing. Being a vet, his chronicling of the experiences in treating farm animals more often than not bought tear to your eyes. 

I now posit that Jeremy Clarkson is now doing  the same to the reels generation. His Clarkson's farm (3 seasons) gives me the same experience as Herriot's books.

Though light in tone and hilarious in parts, it provides a window in to the modern British farming.

The show highlights the trials and tribulations of farmers in Britain (Many of it applies to farmers everywhere too). The finicky weather and climate change wreaking havoc on the crops, the rising cost of everything - seeds, fertilizers, farming equipment, rules and regulations. Jeremy shows genuine concern about the state of farming and farmers. The show also tries to highlight new methods of sustainable farming, 

Add to this, Jeremy's mis-adventures with the tractors, his banter with Kaleb, Charlie and Gerald, his run ins with the council to protect his farm shop and restaurant, attempts at rearing animals, creating new avenues to maximize the output from his farm and failing spectacularly makes it such an entertaining watch.

More importantly, every initiative, attempt that Jeremy undertakes is solely with the motive of maximizing the revenue from the farm. There is no pretension that farming is a social service enterprise, feed the nation - which is an important lesson to farmers elsewhere.

Also who knew that the Jeremy Clarkson of Top Gear and Grand Tour,  can get emotional and tear up at the sight of his farm animals being sent to the abattoir or dying at birth !. 

The store at the end of the road

 "Can you get Puliyogare mix?. I have put the rice cooker on the stove and realised there is no Puliyogare mix !"

It was my wife. The advantage of having a grocery store a 100 odd feet away from home is , you could get stuff right at the last moment when needed. I stepped out of home and trundled towards the store. As I reached, a familiar sight welcomed me.

My dad was there sitting on a stool. My toddler son sitting on his lap, hiding a candy in his hand - which is grandfather had got him- lest I scold him.  This was a ritual of my dad. To sit at the provision store  with my son, talking to the store owner. His friends Mandanna, Chengappa, Bopaiah Uthappa stood around.

They moved from their ancestral villages in Kodagu looking for livelihood around same time, joined the various Public Sector Units which had opened up in Bangalore, stayed together as bachelors,  bought plots and built homes in same neighbourhood, raised families and retired. Their day now constitutes of going for  their morning walks together, to surreptitiously eat a masala dosa or a vada (which they been forbidden to eat) at a restaurant and congregate near the provision store to reminisce, compare the various ailments they are afflicted with,  discuss politics, talk to the people from the neighbourhood as they pass by.

As I was waiting for the store keeper to serve me, I heard my mobile ringing. Thinking it was my wife looking for her Puliyogare mix, I took it out. It was the alarm, I woke up and the reality hit.

I no longer stay in that locality. The grocery store had shuttered down. My dad, Mandanna, Uthappa, Bopaiah - all have passed away. Only Chengappa is alive, the last of that generation who built that neighbourhood. He still painfully walks down to the road with a crutch, stands where the grocery store once was , his rheumatic eyes searching for those who are no longer there, looking for anyone who can spare a few minutes and words with him, waiting to join his friends.

Thoughts on Jawan

 If you are someone who has not been exposed to Shankar's and scores of other Vijay, Ajith's --saving the Makkal (people) and taking on the government/system movies, but you have to write a quick essay for your class tomorrow, Jawan is the movie for you.

It takes every South mass movie and distills in to one. Multiple social issues, national security, Amma sentiment, Appa sentiment, multiple flashbacks - you name it, this has it. Sorry my bad, no sister sentiment.

Move over Motta boss from Sivaji. Add Bane from Batman for international flavour.

Rajni lighting cigarette is  for boomers. Shahrukh lighting cigar will be the standard henceforth.

Sanjay Dutt playing an IPS officer Madhavan Nair in a mundu talking about Onam and Sadhya is a sight to behold.

Post Jawan, South directors won't have anything to write for their mass heroes. Shankar should just shelve Indian 2.

Hence the rumours that Thalapathi is moving on to save the world now.... from aliens.

Everytime you think that this can't get any more cringey, Atlee says hold my beer.

I.N.D.I.A and Bharat both seems to have financed it. The pendulum swings from government corruption, suit boot ki sarkar to public service message on the importance of voting.

Finally this is the revenge of South India. For all the memes of Rajni, Balayya and Gaputan Vijaykanth that north Indians laughed at, Southies can now reply with memes of Shahrukh. Proponents of Dravidanadu should honour Atlee with their highest award. Take that indi people !. Nandri.

Kantara - The mystery of how it was envisioned !

In my note abt Vikrant Rona, when I commented abt the traditions and culture of the coastal belt of Karnataka, I did not expect to be hit with another movie, which blends the traditions and beliefs of the people of the region with a story line (some would call it simple) involving human greed, ego clash, land ownership, casteism,human & nature co-existence, with a sprinkling of romance, humour and action. The result is a compelling movie going experience which not only entertains, but enthralls you for the duration of its running time. 

 For someone from the region, its so gratifying to watch your traditions being included so seamlessly in to the story, which not only provides a glimpse in to these beliefs and customs to others and the current generation who are unaware, but also firms up the long standing conviction of the people of the region on the power and the generosity of the Daivas and the Bhootas. To do it sensitively , without a cause for complaint in the current outrage ridden times is no small feat. 

For long the mainstream Kannada movies were using the characters from Dakshina Kannada only for comedic effect, cartoonish and over the top accents. Its heartening to see that this is changing. Humour is prevalent through out the movie. But its organic and not forced, comes across as how close friends trade quips and remarks. Even the off colour remarks do not feel offensive. 

The storyline from the beginning(except the prologue with its fantastical? element) feels simple and not too different from various village themed movies we often see in Tamil. A wastrel hero with a bunch of friends, quick to anger and get in to fights, a much harried mother, an officer of the law who runs in to the hero resulting in ego clash, a romantic track, people who hate the hero and waiting for an opportunity to take him down and a seemingly benevolent landlord who supports the hero. But the way the screenplay infuses the folklore, traditions and beliefs in to the seemingly run of the mill storyline elevates the movie in to a great theatrical experience.

The clash between the forest officer and the villagers is not that of a good versus evil. But that of enforcing government rules versus the age old coexistence of man and nature. The female leads dilemma when she as a forest guard has to  act against her own kin.  Machinations of local politicians to usurp the land by abusing the same age old beliefs that the villagers hold on to. 

Hero's constant nightmares and visions alluding to the past and of things to come in future. All these elements build up to an explosive climax, which in someway makes you forget the engrossing and entertaining 120 min prior to it. Very rarely you see such a climax which both thrills and scares you. And for people who believe the power of the deities of the region, its nothing short of an incarnation of their Gods on screen.

Ably supporting are the Actors,  Cinematography, Music & the Art directors who along with director Rishab give us that mysterious forest called Kantara. But the real mystery is not the forest, its how did they come up with this cinematic vision?

Vikrant Rona and the case of creating 'Mass' content

 

1980s, a remote village in the Dakshina Kannada- Mangaluru region. Legends of bhoota, brahmarakshas galore. Age old rituals, bhootaradhane, deiva, kola. Family with a secret past. Spate of killings – including the police inspector investigating the murders. Throw in a bit of smuggling. Enter 2 strangers with their own motives– one , the long lost son of the aforementioned family and another a police officer who is the replacement of the one that got knocked off. 

This sounds like a blurb of the next Pendergast Novel or the premise of a gritty, atmospheric TV series – a la True Detective. In fact  with new comers or mid-range actors, this could have been a highly acclaimed albeit a modestly successful theatrical movie /TV series. But Anup Bhandari decides to go big. He ropes in one of the biggest star in the industry, decides to dub it in to multiple languages and on top of it, goes 3D with it. The result (at least for me) is an engaging theatrical experience.

The task of marrying content and mass image of a star is a difficult one. Anup does manage it well , even though not everything works. Credit to Sudeep for taking up the role, which relative to his recent outings, is subdued.

The flaws in the script is masked by a great technical team. The set design, background score and for me the biggest achievement is the 3D rendering. This has to be the best Indian 3D movie ever. (In fact, its better than what we see in the Marvel, DC productions). 3D has been used effectively to create the depth in the scenes and also obfuscate the fact that much of the action was shot in sets. And the gimmicky – throw stuff at the screen – parts of 3D too does startle you in couple of places. Achieving this level of immersive experience in post 3D conversion and probably at a fraction of what Hollywood spends is no small feat.

As mentioned, not everything in the script sticks. Certain scenes though look great and are there only for the loyal fan base of the star. Plot points, if you think about later (The famous Hitchcockian fridge logic), doesn’t add up.

In spite of its flaws, I would say Vikrant Rona is a creative success for its attempt in delivering reasonable good content in a super star driven vehicle, for its technical brilliance (especially the 3D conversion). For someone who is from the region where the story transpires, the Kamrottuverse has a lot of potential for  many future tales.

....on a come back trail

Another stab at reviving this blog and my attempts at writing . Its been more than a year since I last wrote and lot of things have transpired since then.

• We won a world cup and then promptly lost to England


• Yeddi is no longer the CM and a person who was better suited to record canned laughter for sitcoms has taken over the reins of the state.


• Lokpal and second freedom struggle is in progress


• Sibal and Diggy raja have rewritten the rules for speaking without thinking.


• Ra.One became a blockbuster in terms of the jokes, tweets and online discussions it generated.


• Namma Metro finally saw the light of the day.


• Rahul baba is still our youth leader and the next great hope for the country


• Behenji honoured the F1 by presiding and presenting the trophy to Vettel (who lost the next 2 races - not that I am insinuating anything)


• Didi and Amma resoundingly slapping the Commies and Stalin


• Pawar did the opposite and got slapped.


• Reality shows and News channels providing wholesome 'family' entertainment.

Big Apple beckoned me and I obliged......

Balls ..from down under....

What ho ? my dear readers.... I believe aal is well with you. At least I haven't seen any requests for new posts to suggest otherwise.

Well lotsa things to say , dunno where to begin. Well let me dispense off with the bad news first. As I mentioned in my previous entries, I am now no longer a bachelor. I got hitched couple of months ago. I will write about the actual wedding sometime later when the pain has lessened.

I have been performing my duties of a husband faithfully..err..i.e showing absolutely no interest in what she is talking, glued to the lap top all the time ignoring her, spending more time in reading books and watching movies and of course leaving her and flying to Australia.

Yes, am in Ozland. I am supposed to be helping out the clients in specing some requirements and also doing some enhancements. But in truth I dunno what I am doing here. All those could have been accomplished from offshore itself. But I am not in the habit of looking in the mouth of a gift horse (or any horse for that matter!).

Before leaving, I had to undergo a mandatory cross cultural workshop which explained how one should behave in Australia, what to expect when interacting with Australians and Do's and Dont's etc. So I was geared up and ready for some Aussie style slangs and fun. But who ever designed that workshop couldn't be more misinformed !. In my office I have seen Asians, Indians (no they are not Asians. Asians refer to Chinese, Koreans, Japanese, Indonesians etc), Americans, Brits, Europeans. Trues blue Aussies are a rare breed and my hope of learning a few colourful Aussie slang still remains a hope..

Of all the times, I land here in the middle of winter which I must say is not the ideal time to visit. I mean its cold, overcast and rainy. How could one expect to hit the beaches ..err..work..in this weather?

The other thing is most of the attractions in Sydney are in the outdoors and winter isn't the right time to see them. There are beaches and one cant expect bikini clad babes cavorting in the sun at this time of the year. But hope (and plain lechery) makes one do strange things and I did go to a couple of beaches only to be welcomed at one of them by a fat bellied gentleman trying to work on his abs, the sight of which I hope will not scar me for life.

Apart from beaches, I visited a zoo, couple of aquariums, a wild life world which I must say was quite good. Fishes,snakes, Lizards, sharks, sting rays and of course Crocs, Kangaroos, Koalas. I have seen quite a lot of them now. One of the aquariums were also offering to put me in the shark tank along with a few sharks and sting rays just for the fun of it and for a payment of few dollars. Now I knew Australians were a crazy lot and I admire that. But they cant ask me to pay for becoming shark food. No Sir!

The other thing I did was watch Inception. Yes the latest creation from the brain of Christopher Nolan which has been making people to get in to vicious debates (often starting with questioning the intellectual capacity of one another and invariably leading to the ancestral traits) in online forums. I thought it was a very clever movie and one which made the audience to think and involve. If you already don't know, its about dreams and a bunch of people who steal or implant ideas in human brain through dreams. Though there is enough action, chases and explosions to satiate the need of an average move goer, its a movie which makes one think about the possibilities of human mind.

More than the movie, I am intrigued by the notion of one entering another's dream and planting ideas. I could make use of such a technology. Apart from making my wife think that I am the ideal husband ever and worship me, I can probably make my clients to offer me more on site trips and also get in to my manager's brain to ...well that's impossible, nothing can grow in vacuum..not even ideas...

I have been writing this for quite some days now... haven't been able to publish it till now....Meanwhile visited the sunshine state of Australia, Queensland and got a taste of the gold coast and what it offers. Visited the Australia Zoo and crikey ! they are doing a fabulous job of carrying on the legacy of the croc hunter.

Also visited the Blue Mountains, which is a great place- only if you are a strapping young lad and not a geriatric like me. Must have walked at least 8-10km exploring the forests, nature trails and of course proved that I am still deficient in the grey matter by climbing a steep stairway of about 900 steps cut in to the side of the cliff (often at the edge) and spending the next couple of days hobbling around with pain.

As my stay at down under is nearing an end, I am in the look out for the obvious souvenirs which is taking me to a lot of different places. Apart from the usual trinkets and whatnot's, here's one which will surely be a conversation piece if you display it in your living room. Any takers?

Wedding vows.....

Hmm….now now…..where do I begin…. Its been so long since I exercised my literary skills (you can laugh, I won’t mind).

So what have I been up to?….. As indicated in my previous post that I am treading the path that no man has ever willingly trodden, but inevitably ends up walking.

There comes a time in man’s life when he has to take stock of his life and answer some very serious questions. Such as..

• Do you agree to spend 5 hrs for shopping a tea-cup?
• Do you like to paint your room pink?
• Do you agree to wait for her for 4 hrs to get ready to go to a 30 mins event?
• Do you pretend to like reality shows where repeat offenders and bimbos seek matrimonial alliances?
• Will you stop visiting naughty websites?
• Will you stop ogling at girls, unless specifically asked by her to compare her with the said girl?
• And after comparing, would you agree that she is much better (irrespective of what the comparison was for) than the said girl?

I have somehow worked up the courage to say ‘I do’ to all the above questions and take the big leap.As I mentioned to my lady the other day, the below verse succinctly sums up my life till now and what the future holds for me.

“ನಿನ್ನೆ ತನಕ ನಾನು ಉಂಡಾಡಿ ಗುಂಡ
ನಾಳೆಯಿಂದ ನಿನ್ನ ಗಂಡ”

Roughly it translates to,

“Till yesterday, I was a bloke with no errand
But from the morrow, I am your husband”

Have had an interesting time since engagement. Trying to understand each other-which is very important. I guess I handled it pretty well by not responding to her messages, falling asleep in the middle of conversations, taking her to cartoon movies, spending lots of time in book and dvd shops completely ignoring her. In short she now has adjusted her expectations from me, which I guess is none.

So here I am standing at the brink of my bachelorhood, staring at the vast ocean of marital life awaiting the day when I’ll be pushed in to it without a life buoy to cling on to…. I guess that’s what adventure of your lifetime is all about…..

Too lazy to find an appropriate title.......

Yes, I wasn't here for some time now. I know many of you would have missed me just like we missed Himesh Reshamiyya's voice all these days. But as you know, Himesh bhai is back with his new voice and lo am here too.

So the last time I made an appearance here I was in London, doing something which I had no clue of (for that matter nobody had and has even now), content in cooking for my room mates (yeah, I am an expert cook and my ex-room mates will vouch for it albeit with a wince) and looking for where my next opportunity to get in to a embarrassing situation would come from. In short it was idyllic.


But that's a story of the past. Lot of water has flown under the bridge of my life after that. For starters, I have aged one more year and have almost reached the age where young girls no longer offer to modify your facial anatomy with the application of the tool used to aid in ambulation when you stare lecherously at them (not that I am saying I am one). Now a days girls give me the same respect as they give to someone who is a senior citizen, which means basically none.

Apart from that, I am back in India doing the same old thing here again. If you are the unfortunate ones who had to read through my earlier posts, all my esteemed peers, whom I look up to are very much there, offering their insightful and unforgettable advice to me. Got promotion and before you have the thoughts of increased pay check let me tell you that I am getting less than what I used to get before promotion. The guys in the finance must have been smoking some pretty strong stuff when they were coming up with the pay structure. And I had to do some stuff and say some things which to all others seemed pretty rational and logical, but earned me sobriquets like 'attitude problem', 'changed a lot' from the powers above. Well let me just say that sometimes the environment becomes charged up with sparks flying all over like the faulty transformer near my home.

All these put me in such a state that I had lost my writing mojo and was trying to look for inspiration to continue my contribution to the literary world. Then two things happened..

The first one was the fruit of all the prayers of my well wishers (dunno if I can call them that). At last I seem to have made some headway in to getting a better half and can say that it might not be that long where I can reminisce about the good old bachelor days. Now if that's not an inspiration to come up with pageful of paeans to all things wonderful in life, then I dunno what else is. Added to that the fact that the lady in question suffered through all my previous posts and had enough consideration to say that she liked them and asked me to write more. I ask 'What else a budding writer can look for in his future soul mate?'. 'A better taste in literature ....' some of the cynical among you might say. But I don't care.

The other thing is that a famous blogger and a world celebrity, whose comments are quoted in leading newspapers all over the world deemed it fit to grace his eyes on my humble blog and graciously left a comment in my last post. Though the comment was for the video which I had linked rather than my writing skills, I am a contented man. For someone who had to ask (read it beg) his friends to read his blog, this is indeed a momentous occasion . This as they has added a spring in my step and I am more determined than before to write.

Though I will have to get all my posts vetted by the censorship board (OK, if you don't understand this, you are still single) before hand and make sure I add a word of praise in each of them, I'll make sure you will still be regaled with all my experiences as I have more opportunities to make a complete fool of myself. You may ask am I not one now?, I feel there is still a lot of room for improvement and I am a staunch supporter of continual learning. Also the more experienced brethren whom I am gonna join will definitely agree with me, if they are permitted to do so ofcourse.....

Friday late night....in office

Sitting through a major outage and a marathon conference call (not to mention 15 hours in office)which is not leading to anywhere.
Not knowing what to do, trawled through the net looking for mind altering experiences. Obviously the stuff I usually look for is barred in office. But in my travels through the web, found this .... and am still recovering from it...

Love All... especially the lady guards.......

Since I have reached a age where I have accumulated so much of experience, that I tend to start sentences with 'When I was young, it was......'. So today too am starting with a unnecessary flash back to relate few things which happened couple of days ago. So here it goes....

When I was young, I used to play tennis a lot....erm...if you could call that as tennis. Racquets made of wooden pieces and a piece of thread serving as net and a ground so uneven that there was no need to spin the ball honed my tennis skills. Of course watching the matches on door darshan and arguing with friends on who is better was another past time.Couple of my friends(who are brother actually) were fans of Boris Becker and Stefan Edberg respectively. Whenever Becker and Edberg met in finals of a championship (which they did...), my friends provided great source of entertainment by fighting so intensely that the intensity of the players on the court paled in comparison.

And of course there were the terminologies Love All, Love -30, Love-40 -- were a great source for giggling. As I grew up, I understood the game and started following the careers of the players Sampras, Steffi Graf, Monica Seles, Andre Agassi and others. And as I became wiser, I understood the nuances of the game ...err....especially the ladies matches...he he he....

Wimbledon has always been a fascinating tournament... the traditions, white dress code, royalty has made it a tournament which has still stuck to its roots. I have always liked the telecast of Wimbledon on TV. Apart from the matches, the documentaries or the old archive footage of the championships which were shown when it rained (rain being the integral part of a successful Wimbledon) were good.

As luck would have it, I landed here in the UK, just in time for the tournament and last weekend I made my exodus to Wimbledon to the hallowed turfs of the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club to watch this year's championships. To enjoy the complete experience of Wimbledon, one must camp out the previous night in the queue to get tickets for next day's play. It has been the tradition and me coming from a very traditional family didn't want to break any traditions during my pilgrimage to the temple of tennis. So I left office on friday evening along with few like minded friends and reached the Wimbledon Park, where people form the queue.

The park is about a kilometre and half from the stadium. As we entered the park, we noticed that people had already formed the queue and pegged their tents. We too joined the queue and were handed queue cards, which is basically a number showing your position in the queue. Based on the number you get, one can get entrance to the centre or the court numbers one or two. We were as usual late and were saddled with numbers which would not have given us entry ti the main courts. And as we did not have any tents, we weaseled or way in to a tent of one of our other friends and settled for the wait till next morning.

The weather was very good for a British summer day with no hint of rains at all. And people around us were in the mood. They had set the tents and were very much enjoying the atmosphere with ample assistance from the various beverages of the alcoholic kind. As the day came to an end, the enthusiasm of the crowd became directly proportional with the amount of the spirits consumed. Our friends too, not to be left behind launched themselves in to the middle of the happenings with abandon.

We met a couple of interesting characters . A couple from New Zealand who in their highly 'spirited' state took sympathy on us - a bunch of guys- and went upon a mission to find us some girls. They scoured the length and the breadth of the park and came back with the locations of girls. They were kind enough and offered to accompany us to them and help us get acquainted with the girls. Though the offer seemed exciting, we had to politely decline it as it was time for us kids to go to bed and we snuggled in to the tents and attempted to sleep with the uneven floor below us and the cacophony of the revelers outside and the snoring of a friend (who complained that he would not be able to sleep even for second with all the noise outside and promptly fell asleep within a minute) inside the tent. I spent the night equally distributing my time between finding a comfortable position in which all parts of my body felt the same kind of pain due to the floor and listening to the babble of folks outside.

The next morning we packed our tents and stood in the line to start our walk towards the stadium. And for once luck seemed to favour me and we got the tags to court number 1.the walk to the stadium took couple of hours and after a elaborate security check we reached the ticket counter. After seeing the amount I had to pay, I doubted whether getting entry to court number 1 was good luck or not. I had to pay as much as my day's allowance I get here !.

The stadium is pretty awesome. With the centre court and 19 other courts spread all over, its a place to visit for any tennis fan. Though I had visited it when I had been to UK last time, its completely different when the tournament is underway. Spectators thronging the courts, waiting for the players to show up with autograph books in their hands. Food stalls with the traditional Strawberries and cream and the official drinks Pimms No 1. The shops selling ridiculously priced merchandises.

We strolled around the stadium taking in the sights. One other major attraction at the stadium is the Henmen Hill which a small hill in front of which a giant screen telecasts the matches being played on all the courts. People sit on the hill drinking, eating watch the matches. And its a sight to behold with thousands of people staring at the screen and erupting whenever their favorite player wins a point.

Summer in Britain this year has been an unusual one. With no rains and temperatures reaching 31 degrees, people are complaining of the oppressive heat. This is also affecting the way they dress. To paraphrase a popular saying 'hemlines do rise with the rise in temperatures', and Wimbledon offer ample proof to it. We had tough time in deciding what to look at, the matches or the haute couture of the ladies.

The security in the stadium was pretty good. There were male and female security guards all over keeping an eye on things. And I believe the criteria for selecting the female security guards was to find the most prettiest girls and deck them with guards uniform. All the female guards I saw were more suited to walk on a ramp rather than stop a trouble maker. I guess the rationale behind it was the ruffians intending to cause ruckus would be spell bound by seeing these guards, that they will forget what they came to do. At least I forgot to close my mouth after seeing a couple of female guards.

Another attraction was the promotional stall of HSBC where 3 nubile things in short skirts were clicking pics of people holding a racquet in front of a blue screen. Then their photos would be morphed with a tennis court back ground and copies were given out to the people. Initially we thought that they are charging money for it and decided 'who wants such fake photos?, only foolish tourists would go for it' . But when asked we were told its free and we too stood in the queue. I posed as if I am waiting to receive a serve. After sometime we went to collect the photos expecting pictures which showed us as real tennis players. But talk about anticlimax. One of my friend looked more like a police constable chasing the lovers out of park with his lathi. Another looked like he is swatting a fly rather than playing a tennis shot. One more was doing a dance move and I looked like a moron who was standing to receive the serve facing the audience with the court behind me.

There were also other freebies being distributed around ranging from free sunscreen lotion application by girls(which some of my friends went for many times) to free distribution of things useful to ladies (one of the guys went to get that too, but was politely told that it wasn't for men).

Then we partook the traditional dishes of Wimbledon, strawberries and cream and not to forget Pimms No 1, which is the official drink. Having heard a lot about it, I was keen to taste it, but its price made me think twice. For that price I could have bought a crate of drinks outside. Then I hit upon a idea which only a true Indian can think of... Ask the girl at the bar to serve a 'one by two' (or cutting in bambaiyya slang) Pimms. The way she looked at us when we said her to split a drink in to two was worth looking at. She asked us to confirm our age !(thinking that we are a couple of underage kids trying to get a alcoholic drink). Once she was satisfied that we were adults albeit a bit mental, she served us the drink. It tasted good with a hint of spices and citrus fruits and did not taste anything like alcohol (not that I am an experienced hand in that area). No after effects too..err.....seeing two balls being hit by the players on the court was more due to the heat.... I think.....

And as the sun set at the stadium, we set off towards home carrying with us some incredible experience and thinking why we too cant have beautiful girls as security guards in India for sports tournaments.....

Here are some pics which highlights our day at the Wimbledon.

Don't ask me what to do with 2 men and a van. They are available and its left to your imagination

Our tent... 5 of us spent the night inside it in various positions (sleeping I meant)

Inspired by another blogger who is on a mission to introduce people to the various urinals and paintings in them across the world, here is one which asked you to aim at the painting of the ball. I startled all other men in the toilet with my flash photography and fortunately no body took me for a pervert and kicked me out.


As the pic itself says, that's it...enough of wasting time reading this.... do your work

PS: I seem to have forgotten to write something..... blame my age.... aah yes...we watched a few tennis matches too.... they were good.

Unnecessary update for the week gone by.....

Another week gone by in this country and though nothing of any significance transpired in my mundane life, there are couple of things which I feel - as a responsible blogger - should be reported.

First and foremost work, as I mentioned in my earlier rant, was going no where. With no one knowing what to do, I spent the week doing something which many things which in the final outcome may or may not have any value. So the powers above decided that its high time that someone with more experience can come in and do things better than what I am doing now... yeah do nothing in a better way !. Well all I can say that, if there is anyone who can do nothing very well, he is the right person for it.

And I have settled nicely once again....Started to inflict my culinary skills upon my flatmates and they are gracious enough to eat them with out complaints. But I do hear some moans from them in the morning. They are a great company and adventurous too. getting in to ladies changing room in a swimming pool by mistake and look as if nothing wrong has happened is a walk in the park for them. And they say its better than going in to men's changing room where lets just say that things are not easy for the eyes.

By the way if you guys saw the T20 match of India against West Indies, you might have seen me on the screen jumping around. I might have been cheering at the fall of an Indian wicket. But that was just for to get my self on the screen. I go to watch my first match in a stadium and that too at the Lords and I should have known, with the kind of luck I have, India lost. Though there was no dearth of entertainment. Sozzled cricket fans shouting, some Indians with their accent shouting 'We want six', which sounded entirely different and made people around think of another favourite past time of Indians other than cricket.

Weekend consisted of kicking a room mate for getting a year older. Visiting Hyde Park, which I must say is a pretty good place. Boating in the lake was a interesting experience. Looking at all the birds (I strictly meant the non flying ones) around was a invigorating experience !.

Dinner at a Indian place which was specifically designed to the goras resulted in the waiter explaining us what each dishes are - dishes which we have been eating all our lives !. Then a walk to the Leicester square, to Soho (now that's a place which one must visit to get a glimpse of the London's night life and also the place where you get to see people of various nations talking to you in Hindi asking whether you need the services if the ladies of negotiable affections ) and Piccadilly Circus bought our day to an end. But not before witnessing some serious public display of affection by a couple in the railway station which really left us ruminating..... why the heck we cant do that?.......

Musings of a muddled mind.....

Stepping down from the Srilankan Airline flight (it was a kind of boring flight) on to London bought back a lot of memories. Almost a couple of years ago, for the first time in my life I had left my home and came over here to London. As I set my foot again, all the previous encounters, adventures, experiences flooded past me like the flashback of a B grade bollywood movie.

My regular readers (he he....are there any?) would know all about my experiences the last time around. So I got down of the plane went to immigration again dreading what might go wrong. What happened is something known as anticlimax in english grammer circles. The lady at the counter just checked my passport and stamped me in to the country without any questions. I am not at all complaining mind you. I am happy that there were no problems. But sometimes when life becomes so simple and easy, you tend to wonder if there is something else round the corner waiting to bash your head and take away the joy you had earlier.

So I was in London and after a brief period of roaming up and down between the Departures and Arrivals to find out the way out of airport(I somehow even managed to stand in a queue which was departing,not to outside, but to Cambodia. Some extremely helpful airport personnel intervened in the nick of time), I finally made in to the taxi and reached home sweet home. The same place where I stayed during my previous sojourn. I must be very grateful to my friend who allowed me back in to stay after all that he went through the last time.

After spending almost 20 hours travelling (including the time I spent in Srilanka waiting for my plane, listening to Sinhalese language which by the way is a cross between tamil and some chinese, Japanese kind) one would think that taking rest would be the logical think to do. But then thats what normal people do. What did I do?. I head out to play cricket. You see the weather in London at this time of the year is so unLondon like. Clear skies, bright sunshine with day light till 9 PM and pleasant temperatures make people to head out to open spaces and then lie there under sun at various stages of disrobement. I saw lissome lasses sun bathing at the park and they were a sight to travel weary eyes. But beside them were the boy friends with enormous paunches (and unfortunately uncovered) that they covered the girls both from me and the sun . I had to put extra efforts to take a peek at them.

Where was I?...ah yeah looking at barely clad girls...erm... playing cricket at the park. After a intense 4 hours of trying to run behind the ball, giving reasons for getting out in the first ball, blaming the pitch for all the wides bowled my first day in UK ended.

As for the reason I came here, started of work and there is nothing much to talk about it. The client doesnt know what to do and if you guys had closely followed my earlier posts, you would easily surmise that my management has little clue of whats going on either. So am sitting in office wondering why the hell was I sent here.

As the saying goes, never ask why when a unknown girl kisses you (coz she may tell you that she was drunk at the time and kissed you only to win a bet), I am not asking why was I sent here, but just enjoying the days......

So before I sign off, I leave you with this remarkable artist whose existence was unknown to me and was introduced by one of my flatmate.







If any of you know where I can get hold of the cinematic masterpieces of this thespian, you will be rewarded handsomely.....

Travelling in the time of recession.....

I am watching the video which tells you what to do if the flight is about to plummet down to earth (i don't know why they scare people with those warnings. But they do put the fear of God in you). Now if you are wondering what I was doing getting scared shitless in an airplane, let me take you a few days back and start at the beginning....

Now that the whole world is still trying to decide whether we are in a recession or have we experienced the worst and moving towards the - give loans to everyone without checks - era once again (at least am getting 3 calls from various financial institutions daily asking me to take money from them. Probably they haven't heard about this slowdown).

All companies are in a financial freeze mode where even if you gotta travel to the restrooms, you have to get an approval from at least 3 VPs. But lo I was asked to travel !. When my manager asked me to travel, I said 'no thanks, I don't wanna pee now'. But he said that I have to go to London. Since London in our local slang has an entirely different connotation which is no way near to the capital of the United Kingdom and more nearer to bowel movements, I politely declined the offer again wondering why my manager is so concerned with the well being of my excretory systems. More over I had been to the old blighty about 2 years ago and the chances of me going again was as remote as Royal Challenngers of Bengaluru making to the finals of IPL. But we all know what happened and I was really flying again.

It so transpired that a new business opportunity arose and our management in their infinite wisdom agreed to send associates to UK as soon as possible(as if all we had to do was to hail a passing auto rickshaw and ask the driver to take us to London. Mind you knowing our rickshaw drivers, they may agree to take you to London, but not to Lingarajapuram. But that's an entirely different story altogether).

Without knowing the latest visa procedures and company policies, our managers asked two of my colleagues to apply for work permits. Since the policies had changed, it appeared that the work permits would get processed only after 4 weeks and our clients were hopping mad at the delay, a search was done to find people with valid visa to leave instantly. My manager was the first one to put his hand up and claim that he had a valid business visa. But he was asked to look for other candidates (I guess the clients had a good laugh). I on the other hand had a work permit for couple of months and a valid visa too and I was chosen to be the err... Chosen one !

I was told on thursday evening to leave on saturday and after the usual long list of processes and medical tests (where after sucking what amounted to a couple of litres of my blood for various tests, I was declared medically fit to travel), I got my tickets.

I was being sent to London through Colombo and after the recent developments in the emerald country, don't blame me for being apprehensive about the flight plan.

When I announced at home that am going onsite, the reaction was 'not again!'. Where my parents are trying hard to get me hitched to some poor girl, before the kids of my neighbourhood start calling me a granddad instead of uncle ( am past the age of calling anna, if you haven't noticed). And here I am flying off. They weren't too thrilled about the idea. But what ho, duty calls and you gotta make some sacrifices in the line of duty and if it means escaping..err...delaying getting married for some more time, then so be it. Not that I had a long list of girls desperate to marry me.....

The day of flying and I with my usual bunch of friends headed towards airport. The new one, which I had just seen earlier and not entered, beckoned me. As we entered the airport we saw some stalls of Karnataka tourism displaying various things. Thinking that its the usual pitch to attract tourists, we headed to towards the check in counters to look for the time when my flight will be called, something made us stop at our tracks. There was a stage and around it lot of people wearing dancing clothes, a lady in green saree, people with traditional music instruments, a lady in green saree, people in various costumes and did I mention a lady in green saree?. Removing all thoughts of checking the flight time, we walked towards the stage to check out what it was all about....ok more importantly to check out the lady in green saree.

There were no short of admirers and wherever she moved, at least a dozen pair of eyes followed her. We being the perfect gentlemen we are, just sat around looking at the whole spectacle of her moving around gracefully and a bunch of males ogling her with their mouth agape.... No I did not ogle..but I did notice that she was quite an eyeful to look at..

It seemed that the Karnataka tourism was showcasing the culture of the state and as a part of it there were programmes daily at the airport (and yeah ogling at beautiful girls is a part of our culture). The lady in green saree was compereing the programme. It started with a rousing Karaga dance where the dancers moved around the airport lounge dancing to the tunes of thamate. Many of the passengers around were amused by the spectacle and a few annoyed (yeah, they were the ones who hated our culture). The foreigners as usual were excited running around with their cameras to capture the real India and what more they got to see it just as soon as they landed in India. I saw some of them after seeing the whole thing, walking back to ticket counters to book tickets back to their countries as their purpose to visit India was accomplished just outside airport. I mean while thoroughly enjoyed it.

Remembering time to time that my actual reason for being at the airport was a tough job with all these cultural extravaganza around me. And then the lady in green started to announce a bevy of performances. Though seeing her just speaking was nothing short of a visual delight, the first performers, the thamate (which by the way is a traditional percussion instrument) troupe was outstanding. As they performed, one would just want to dance with abandon to those earthy tunes which no world renowned musician can create. I had a tough time switching between watching the performers and the lady in green.

The next performers were the kamsaale group, who along with singing, also dance with playing small cymbals. Their moves were so complicated and sometimes dangerous that wearing protective gear to ones nether region is a must if you have to avoid injuring your manhood. Nevertheless, there was no two words about the performance..yeah just one word...outstanding.


Here was a perfect example of what is generally known as irony. Me being in Karnataka all my lifetime never once bothered to see all these art. And there I was watching and appreciating the performances, just when I was leaving the country !. The lady too was encouraging the crowd to applaud and also to get their pictures clicked with the performers as this was a one of a kind opportunity. That got us excited and we were about to rush and get our snaps with the lady, but stopped short of of doing it due to absolute lack of nerves.

Meanwhile the lady in green had realized the presence of an extremely handsome man at the premises and started throwing sideway glances at us. And I believe if my flight had not been announced, she would have surely approached us to have a word or two (might also would have talked at length, cursing us for ogling at her as if she was the last female on the planet). I would never know as I had to leave just a group of bharathanatyam dancers were enthralling the crowd. Remember the earlier sacrifice in the line of duty?.... Yeah made another tough decision and decided to board the flight after all.

So here I am sitting at the Bhandaranaike International Airport Colombo, waiting for my connecting flight to London (yeah I crossed Indian ocean and landed in Srilanka while writing all this), musing over the happenings of last couple of days and wondering what the future will throw at me. Whatever it will be, be sure of hearing it from me....

PS: waiting at Colombo airport is so boring after all the excitement at Bangalore......

Gaddi gyan...

Confessions of a newbie manager......

Its been so long since I wrote. And I guess you people very happy all these times. But I an back to inflict more pain on your senses.

What with the change of role making me actually work (if you can call what I do as work and as opposed to troll through websites or write blog) in office and the usual year end appraisal process (which was no different from previous ones. My views on my performance were agreed unanimously by only me and everyone who mattered thought otherwise. ), I couldn't find time to write.

There has been a significant change. A change, which will have considerable ramifications. I have become the part of 'management' now. Excel sheets, power point, emails are my daily bread and I consume them with liberal helpings of meetings and calls.

Now I tend to speak in a language which will make messrs Oxford and Cambridge to sell more of their best selling paperbacks. Also my sentences are formed in such a way so that the audience completely lose track of what I am talking about, which very well makes them to think twice before coming to me with their problems next time.

I have also developed this tendency to call people in to meeting rooms and discuss things at length, even if it’s just to say 'hello' to them.

1. I am now a big fan of conference calls. Like to send meeting invites.
2. If I don't have a reason to send an invite for a meeting,
3. I just send an invite to people for a meeting to decide on topics for subsequent meetings.
4. And yeah I have started to express in bulleted points


Now a day I think that my team doesn't work at all and are whiling their time away, while am working my ass off. The whole project is surviving just due to my efforts.

Whenever somebody comes with a leave request, I tend to tell them that taking leave is tantamount to a crime. If they say that their relatives are ill, I counter with 'don’t you think I have ailing relatives, do you see me taking leaves?'

I have also started talking about good old days in my previous projects whenever someone comes up to discuss some pressing issue, I have now learnt to talk about everything else other than the issue at hand. Usually I talk about what happened when I was at onsite or my previous project. My audience is so stunned by my hot air, that they forget why they came up to me in the first place and return wordlessly.

Most of my free time is now spent with other managers. We trade war stories or try to outdo each other by highlighting all the pains (both literal and figurative ones) we have. We also compare the length and girth of our styluses (before you start imagining disgusting things, I am talking about the styluses of our touch phones) and claim superiority over the other.

By the way I bought a new phone which has so many features that I dunno what to do with and am typing this dirge on it. It has a windows OS, but surprisingly there is no control alt delete buttons on the keyboard!!.

Sorry, I digressed; the nub of the matter is that I have changed. Am not the genial harmless idiot whom you all knew and loved (ok I am stretching a bit here-call it artistic license). Now am an idiot with powers to inflict misery on others. You people should bow before me and be afraid, be very afraid……