Honey, I shrunk the cricket

Lee Calvert brings memories flooding back with his post on the board-game we called "mini-cricket". Actually, I played it only a couple of times on the official set, which a classmate brought home. We had a big hall those days, ideal for such kind of sprawling activities. The set consisted of plastic figures, a miniature slide-like gantry to launch the ball to the batsman, and a bat. On being hit, the plastic fielders used to go down to ground unnecessarily, much like Yuvraj Singh (without the injury grimace). You could play games for hours.

The only problem was that I didn't own a set. There wasn't any question of buying one - for starters, I don't remember seeing it in nearby shops, but more importantly, buying board games that I'd merely get bored of the next summer wasn't a great idea. And like the aubergine-aunty in Goodness Gracious Me, why should you buy it when I can make it at home? For free.

We had an excellent track record of creative self-sufficiency - we had made replicas of Cluedo based merely on a out-of-focus photograph in a kid's magazine and peeks at a neighbour's set. Ludo and even chess figurines (out of chapatii aaTTaa), despite having a proper chess set, were some of the other achievements. So native middle-class ingenuity went into full drive.

The fielders were little wooden alphabet blocks, who were used to playing different roles each summer. This did mean that in comparison to the official set, they were much more squat and wide (that is, more Ranatunga than Dilshan), but they covered the angles better. IIRC, stumps were easily made of toothpicks. A supply of shiny ball-bearings took care of our cherries. The bat was an improvement even on the set. They were pink plastic ice-cream spoons. A stack of books and a metal piece with a wide depression served as the bowling machine, while the skipping rope marked the boundary rope. In those days, there was very little brand awareness, otherwise, we might have even have had advertisements.

Sixes were smashed (risky shots); fielders went down with alacrity, sometimes even before the ball was bowled (due to a stray and inquisitive wind blowing through the windows); we learnt how to spin the ball down the chute (bowlers had a tough time even then and had to adapt).

Flash Pan Piazza - II

Packet Droppings The triumphant review meeting was almost at its end. Trancheor could feel the impatience of some of the younger members. Heck, he couldn't wait to begin the celebrations himself. Doubtless, this had been the greatest week in their collective history. He permitted himself an amicable head-bobble, much to the astonishment of many present, who hadn't known the President to be capable of such expressions. Historic indeed.

"So to summarise: we present planet Kilnario's highest gratitude to Chief Communicator and his group. By neutralising planet Earth's seemingly advanced electronic communications systems, we could effectively eliminate their capacity to transmit vital data to their installations..." intoned the Chief Minuter.

Trancheor fidgeted in his seat, and his pod-acles scratched a non-existent itch. He dwelt on the surprise attacks that took down the Earthian optical lines, wireless orbiters, and wire cables, both terrestrial and sub-terrestrial. He had personally overseen the plans. They had been bold but time-consuming. He had to fight off the sceptics. But Trancheor had been convinced this was the way to go, for this had been the biggest Earthian lever. In contrast, the slower but more robust Kilnarion methods would not be so fragile. Confusion had prevailed among those more society-driven aliens and Kilnario had driven home the advantage.

"...and so, thank you all. Xarp President, you are kindly invited to inaugurate the month-long festivities". The President was shaken out of his reverie and rose from his kneeling position.

"Thank you, Xarp Minuter. One last question: just out of curiosity. Do we know what the last coherent recorded Earthian message was? History-books would like to know". Bobbles broke out.

"Yes Xarp. In fact I have it here. It doesn't seem to mean much though."

The Minuter consulted a scrap.

" 'WHERE ARE THE BLOODY PIGEONS?' "

Re-Prestige!

Nikhil informs that The Prestige is being shown in some theatres in Pune starting from today. If you're in Pune and haven't seen the film, do yourself a favour and watch it. Don't forget to thank me at the end!

Someone to run with the ball

At this fairly 'historic' low of Indian cricket performances, it is unfortunate that we have no leading contenders among other sports that can pluck this opportunity for tired eyeballs and fresh currency. Leander Paes is waning (despite his sunset run with that other senior citizen, Martin Damm) and the ex's-tiff with Mahesh Bhupathi didn't help too much. Sania Mirza is going through what every normal sports-person faces - injury, recovery, the lack of surprise that comes from being a regular. The hockey team has had its worst Asian outing in years, and the double-header PHL hasn't quite captured the imagination. Golf will always remain an eminently unwatchable sport and the exploits of Jeev and co. will remain at a news article's distance.

Darn. We'll all go back to cricket. Perhaps it's time to unleash an extreme-brand of quizzing - quizzers in capes and tights, sledging each other, mocking passes, dirty-tongued quizmasters, points for causing black eyes. Gladiatorial quizzing!

Flash Pan Piazza - I

Forgetfulness "So you're saying you never got my message?"

He looked incredulous, but it wasn't an act. She could easily tell.

"I'm so sorry! I did slip it under your door that day. Didn't have the guts to see you. I thought you'd been too mad to call. I did leave my new number in it...", he said, with his head now in his hands.

And you also left for two years, she thought. Not a word spoken. She'd have been mad either way.

"Oh, what a mess, dear, what a mess. It wasn't working out - you know that. I had to leave soon. You know how the situation was like. The job came through, you must have guessed, didn't you?"

She didn't care. Her wet eyes scanned the Departures board. Her flight was ready to board. This had been the longest 30 minutes of the last two years. Running into him like this. Letting him know where he stood in the hall of shame. She rose.

"Your flight is ...? Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. I really am. I wish I had told you. Face-to-face. Like a man."

He thrust his hand at her. The good-bye handshake. Just a couple of years behind schedule. The shiny wedding ring on the other hand glistened again. She'd noticed it an instant after she'd first realised to whom the head before hers in the Departure Lounge belonged to.

"Bye", she said. She couldn't bear to touch him. A little wave, and she hurried away. Before going through, she took one last look. He looked crumpled.

The flight took off, mercifully on time. Despite wanting not to, she reached into her little case. Pulled out that old piece of paper. She considered it. She wasn't sure why she had lied. Made him suffer, though.

Visionary cricketers

Question: how good does your eyesight have to be if you want to play Twenty20 cricket?

The Separation

It has started to hit the fan. Tendulkar comes out sparring in his interview. Objectively speaking, if it's a straight contest between the Chappell corner and the Tendulkar corner, then well, it's hard to see Chappell win in a Pawar-helmed BCCI regime. Unless some equations have changed dramatically.

With the luxury of hindsight, one can wonder if the battle for the World Cup was lost when Tom Moody gave way to Greg Chappell. Tom Moody was in the John Wright mould - a man of limited talents, apparently with a much more softer approach. Sri Lanka may have made the better decision, despite their own cricket board being more internecine than India's. Does it also spell the death-knell for accomplished cricketer-coaches? First, Kapil and now Chappell - admittedly both were on either end of the "process" spectrum, but neither pulled it off.

This is more than what even James Bond could handle: this stuff is shaking and stirring like a pinball in a mixie.

Update later in the day: Chappell concedes the bout.

Faux News - 11

Faux News bulletin

(You know it's time if it's faux pas nine!)

Police raid rant party, end up disgruntled

In a pre-dawn raid, police raided a flat on the outskirts of Pune anticipating a party of dopers. Instead, to their embarassment, all they found was a bunch of mopers in their pyjamas complaining about their life, their spouses, and their bosses.

"We had received a tip-off from sources about a suspicious 'rant party' happening this night. We surrounded the building complex and stormed in, but we did not find anything more than bottles of warm cola and cold pizza. My men were pretty disappointed." said the officer in charge, Inspector Radne. Owner of the house and party-organiser Piloo Fait protested against this police action. "This is an example of the way society treats those who have the moral fibre to complain." "The bitches", he added eloquently.

Sources tell us that the organisers sent out notices via social networking sites like "The Orkut" and by word-of-mouth, inviting people to a party where one could "declaim the iniquities of life without restriction". "We heard some pretty harsh things today", said one participant who wished to remain unnamed. She was later heard complaining that the party was not good enough to even be successfully busted.

It also appears that some of the policemen succumbed to the facilities (which included a personalizable dartboard and punchbags). Injustices in promotions and bandobast beats were aired openly, but off the record. "I am out raiding parties all the time - the fried snacks served there make it impossible to get rid of my paunch. How do superiors expect me to?" asked one constable, sitting on a bean-bag.

Inspector Radne refused to admit the police had made a mistake, slapping a fine on Piloo Fait for playing a Region-2 DVD on a modified Region-5 DVD Player. The police party then left the disgruntled people alone, who settled down to watch episodes of "Grumpy Old Men".

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Click here for a free look at the earlier editions.

Taught for the Day

Images courtesy HassleFreeClipArt.com

TiS a little pfunny. That's all

Was expecting something like this, naturally. But not so clever, compared to previous efforts. Probably the best line was the last sentence in the FAQs:

Why is TiSP in beta?
When things go wrong with TiSP, they go very, very wrong. Let's leave it at that.

The Tagged and the Taggers

1. If you send me anything from the latest new social networking craze (read: "WTF?") "Tagged", prepare to face loss of vital organs. However distant you may be from me. (Previously on the topic)
2. If you tag your posts with compound words in Blogger (such as "Sahara skiing"), note that some of you are doing something that causes it to split into two words (ref: a Gaurav post) ("american", "idol"). I can't figure out what, though.

Ever-present thoughts

1. Why are people so stupid?
2. Some people have so much luck (and don't realise it)
3. Why can't I be satisfied with a list of two points?

Memories of "Agni Nakshatram"

No, the searing temperatures have nothing to do with this nostalgia trip. After many years, the songs of Agni Nakshatram¹ (dir: Mani Ratnam, music: Ilaiyaraja) splashed sonorously on the ears, and provoked memories of that 1989 summer when I first watched the movie.

The occasion had been a family gathering of some sort. I was just about getting introduced to the world of contemporary Tamil cinema after our move to Madras (I did not know words like "contemporary" then, mind you). I don't know if we watched the film in the middle of May, but a VCR and tape procured by enthusiastic cousins came as a sparkling relief on a Sunday afternoon.

The film is one of the best entertainers I can remember having seen - a rocking 3 hours filled with whistle-worthy dramatic and action scenes, and one heck of a music score. It's been a while since I've seen movies like Rangeela and this, which not only regale unabashedly, but also get their elements spot on. A Prabhu with a reputation for pudginess became this big, tough inspector with a penchant for arresting half-brother Karthik who was reprising his Mouna Ragam cameo as a street-lad. Both were being pursued (respectively, of course) by the not-much-to-do-in-2nd-half lead actresses, delicate Amala and mysterious Nirosha. Add to it political intrigue, hospital climaxes, brothers-at-throats episodes among muddy stables, soft-focus lighting, and the persistent suffusion of disco, and you have a terrific ride. Oh, and the exceptional comedy track featuring Janakaraj and V.K.Ramaswamy - just thinking about Janakaraj doing a lap of pure joy when the bus leaves sets my giggle-centres off.

Back to the songs: The eyebrow-raising "ninnukori varNam" which took the first few words of the childhood varnam and spun it off into a Chitra special, the Karthik-statement-of-life in "raaja..." voiced by the Raja himself, the courting song "rojaa puu" set in a gym (of all places) allowing Amala and gang to show off their flourescent leotards, "oru puu.ngaavanam" featuring Nirosha doing multiple laps of freestyle in an Olympic swimming pool (must confess that there is a limit to watching anyone do that, and so we fast-forwarded the song to great hilarity), the much more conventional love-songs, full of saris and feelings, in "thuu.ngaatha vizhigaL" and "vaa vaa anbe anbe". Quite a treat overall.

The power of the scenes and dialogues, the novelty of the song situations and the lighting, the sheer fun of the film - those were less judgemental times!

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1: Agni Nakshatram refers to a period in May at which the summer heat is supposed to be at its most extreme.

Keeping the house in order

At the end of his quiz report, Harish writes, a touch angrily, about how a hall of people can leave so much litter around without bothering to pick it up. I end up have the same apoplexies seeing some of the behaviour in common washing facilities here at my hostel in IIT. People breeze in and out, and by means of some predictable poltergeist effect, all the lights come on and the taps are leaking and the place is as fragrant as an abattoir.

I am no cleanliness-conservation-maniac who can boast of ISO-9000 standards, but it was drilled into myself from fairly ancient times (relatively speaking) that it was stupid to waste. So when one sees people leaving all lights on when only one would suffice, an irresistible urge to clean up behind them takes over.

I also find it hard to believe that these people could have lived so long without someone close to them not telling them to show better civic sense. It also doesn't forebode so well for their offspring.

The fifth ball

Date: 28 Mar 2007, somewhere above

I walked out to the observation gallery and stood next to DubyouCee. He sported a vacant look and didn't look around to my greeting. He did stifle a big yawn. There were others milling around, some taking an occasional look at the action below, but 209 is not something that is usually defended.

Xnis joined us. "That's two for Canas?", I asked with a raised eyebrow. "Things change", he said with a cocky grin. Asking fore-bodes of a fellow god is breach of protocol, but I came oh-so-close to asking "The French! What about Roland Garros?" But that's just not done.

DubyouCee remained motionless. "It's not been pretty this time, has it?" This got me a reaction out of him. His body went stiff and he turned around with a glare. Xnis joined in: "I hear mind-space for this has reduced by over 60% this week?". That set Dub off. "You will not believe the things I've had to take care of this time. It's a miracle things are not worse" smouldered the man in charge. He must be having trouble upstairs - SeeKayTee isn't the understanding type.

I turned to Xnis. "This game'll be over soon. What's coming up next?". Small-talk ensued. We didn't notice DubyouCee mutter his charms (but that would've been routine anyway). Some cheering below made us look down. One had fallen in this late stage. The usual mini-storm before the calm -- pretty normal -- there's usually one final gasp from the opposition before the last chop. We started to look away when more noises and gasps demanded our attention again. Another had been downed.

We looked at Dub. He was strangely flushed. "Are you doing this?" asked Xnis. A tiny smile took off and then perished. SASeeKayTee had just bounded in clumsily, like he always did. "What's going on here?", he asked angrily. Right off the bat came: "I don't have to answer that." "We know what you've done the previous two times with my team - this had better not be you", spat SA.

But it was him. We could tell. That nervous energy. It's happened before. He gets twitchy. Does strange things. There's even a phrase for it. It's called "glorious uncertainty".

Word seemed to have got around, and others started to gather around. You don't want to miss one of these. The recriminations are beautiful to watch. SA wa being a little harsh - Dub had caused only one of the two last ones, not both. It had been great though.

Nothing had happened for the last six, but now we were back to where the show had left off. Then: one more fell!. The involuntary spurt of godly expletives accompanying this told you something very unique was about to happen. Surely, Dub wasn't going all the way? That'd be crazy.

The angry voice of SA was back. I could sense people stiffening all around me. The big SeeKayTee was in our midst.

"And what is going on here?", he growled. "It's a game, sir. Things happen. That's almost a law around here, isn't it". His words were drowned out by even larger gasps. It now was four in a row. "Has that ever happened before?" whispered Xnis to me. I shook my head. Wow - we're in really oily waters here, Dub. Be careful for what you wish next.

The fourth had robbed SA of his faculties. He seemed to be slumping. Then, the blood rose back. SeeKayTee could read the danger signs. Insubordination was a fairly minor offence compared to what SA would do to Dub in a second if that happened. We waited.

It should have been one of those slow-motion moments, but it went by in a flash. The ball was bowled - batsman misses - ooh! just past the off-stump - a flying kiss. SA had to sit down.

I looked at Dub. He seemed calm now. I knew it was all over. SA wouldn't be spilling his guts over nectar a third time. At least not today.

Hollywood's XX factor

Looking at the list of actresses nominated at this year's Oscars, I can't help wonder at the immense array of talent that the English-language films put out. It's a fairly impressive generation of acting talent among the ladies. And we're not even talking about Meryl and her British counterparts, who are, if you pardon the pun, Streeps ahead of the rest.

Cate Blanchett, Kate Winslet, Laura Linney, Julianne Moore, Jodie Foster, Toni Collete, Natalie Portman, Rachel Weisz, Naomi Watts, Hilary Swank, Jennifer Connelly, Helena Bonham Carter, Nicole Kidman (to an extent), Holly Hunter, Frances McDormand, Kristin Scott Thomas - well, a long list, and lots more to go. Most of these have at least 2-3 roles of sheer class to showcase.

In sharp contrast is our own homegrown industries, which has traditionally given women such a bad deal that it is hurts. Of the current lot, one can only talk about the likes of Tabu and Nandita Das as being top-notch. There must be other excellent actresses coming out who aren't getting their due and attention. There are actresses like Meera Jasmine who hopefully are getting roles that they can shine in. But they do have to earn bread-butter in silly commercial vehicles. But what to do? - we prefer the assembly line dolls of beauty pageant positions from 1 to n instead.

Hyper-complete

In the future, will every new webpage's content be completely hyperlinked? Your average Wikipedia page (e.g. this page (as of Mar 27, 2007)) has several proper nouns hyperlinked and even some common nouns (like "stage magician") and adjectives ("amoral").

Next thing is to come up with a little browser plugin or preprocessor that takes my current content, adds hyperlinks from my own content database (such as blog archives), browsing history, or defaults to say, the appropriate Wikipedia page, instead of me having to insert it each time. Or perhaps a hovering bubble with a brief definition/snapshot a la some of these link preview plugins.

Can we be links?

The blog-equivalent of the biggest Indian contribution to social networking ("can v b frands?") is the mail you get proposing a I-scratch-your-link-you-scratch-mine. Why anybody would think their blog-worth would go up because I linked to them is a mystery. I have very little to expend, so blip off, mate. I'm a Groucho-Marxist-Lameist and will only link to those blogs who send me mail not to link to them.

Up-yer-links!

The peaks of "Delhii Heights"

"Sinfully Pinstripe" writes about "dilli bas" ("Delhii Heights") with feeling. It's not a song I relate to much, but many seem to have liked a lot. Starting with Tere Bin, I've tripped over and fallen for "Kitnii der tak". It loops around and the guitars play. The texture of the album, in its lyrics (not very polished, but making their points) and its guitars from lining-to-garnish are such a welcome aural relief.

March BC Open Quizzes

Date: 24 March (Saturday)

=================
1. Quiz for college students
Flavour: Entertainment, Literature
Eligibility: college and school students
Teams of 2; 8 Finalists
By: Sudarshan and Ramanand
Time: 8:45 am to 12:30 pm
Prizes for all finalists and Best school teams
Non-collegians are encouraged to watch the finals - lots of chocolates on offer!

=================
2. Open Quiz for all
Flavour: General
Eligibility: No restrictions
Teams of 2; 6 Finalists
By: B. V. Harishkumar
Time: 1:45 pm to 6:30 pm
Prizes for all finalists, Best school, college, and newbie teams; Special audience round

=================
We will have a Theme-Attic as usual in the break.

==================================================
Date: Saturday, 24 March 2007
- Venue: “Bhageerath”, Persistent Systems Pvt. Ltd., Behind Domino’s Pizza, Senapati Bapat Road, Pune
- Registrations free and on the spot
- Contact: 98810 00957, 93244 45248, contact@bcqc.org

See this link for details.

From the mouths of D'oh boys

Heidi Harley presents her annual round-up of linguistic humour from The Simpsons. A sample that illustrates the garden-path sentence phenomenon:

M. le justice Snyder: I sentence you to life!
Homer: You moron! I'm already alive!
M. le justice Snyder: In prison!

(via the Language Log)

Is there a word for...

...mistyping a password (repeatedly and embarassingly) because someone is standing near you, watching?

It happens so frequently that there should be a word for it. Something like "passvoid".

Triple Duet Tuesdae

The one without the racoon hair is Ben Miles.

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The Dada on the right is Jaideep Sahni, who wrote movies such as Company and Khosla ka Ghosla. The resemblance is even more pronounced than the photo may suggest.

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The easiest one. Just adding for the sake of, as they say, completeness.

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On previous daes: Triple Schezwan Sundae, Veg Triple Mondae

Their Filmfares

In an astonishingly audacious editorial a couple of days, the Times of India suggested that the Oscars were not democratic enough because "The time-honoured tradition of Oscar nominees and winners being chosen by a closed club of Academy members is feudal...".

This is astonishing merely because as far as I can tell, the Academy Awards never set out to be a popularity contest, but more of a reward of excellence. Whether they get it right or not is a different question. I'm not going to "defend" the Oscars - there are several instances of them not getting things right (which anyway is a subjective call), and like the Nobel Prize for Literature, it is increasingly righting previous wrongs. But if you forget who the Oscar went to, and just look at each year's list of nominees, you will say a majority of them deserved to be there. This is more than what someone can say for entire categories at the Filmfare Awards.

The Filmfare awards want to, and desperately at that, be a popularity award first and not a critics award. Fair enough. But let's drop the hypocrisy of excellence, when all you want to do is engage in a massive backscratching exercise with no credibility - I mean, once you open the voting to the internet and SMS, as TOI so avidly advocates, the scripts take over.

The Filmfare awards have completely alienated a number of movie-goers (are we "significant"? dunno), but thanks to multiplexes, distributors, and technological revolutions, it's possible for us in the long tail to be sated somewhat. The days of giving the Best Film award to the likes of "Rajnigandha" and "Ardh Satya" are long gone. We've learnt to live with times when Kareena Kapoor wins a Critic's Award for "Best Actress" when several worthier actresses abound. But don't rub it in. Audiences have no business voting for technical categories such as Best Editing or Screenplay. Democracy doesn't guarantee excellence or even a sense of participation. We can live with awards given out by a "mai-baap" as long as it doesn't offend our senses.

Stories at the Coffee Table

A couple of years ago, Caferati ran an online short-story competition, the winning entries to which would go into a book. I sent in an entry, it didn't make the first cut or was on standby, and I forgot all about it. Over a year ago, I received an email from the editors at Caferati asking if the story was still available. Since it was merely loitering in my inbox, I said, yes sir, with three bags full.

The line went silent till about 12 months later when we found that despite all the pitfalls of getting a book out on their own, Caferati was finally going ahead with the publishing. Which they did. It's called Stories at the Coffee Table and has a very elegant design to it. It was launched in Jaipur at the lit-fest there and in Mumbai at the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival a month ago (which, BTW, in further evidence of my ever-increasing senility, I contrived to miss by mistaking a Thursday for a Friday). I didn't want to blog about it until I got a copy in hand, which I did yesterday.

The book is priced at a modest Rs. 200/- (the publishers will use it to recover their costs - the authors don't get anything :-)) and is currently available only by direct request (see here). Apparently, authors can obtain a discount, so if you are sufficiently moved by this venture and have the stomach for writings of an eclectic kind :-), then let me know.

The list of authors can be seen here. Incidentally, there are lots of people there sharing similarities with me - software kiddos, fellow quizzers, people from PSPL and IIT Bombay, and lots of names from Pune. I haven't read any of the other stories yet though.

Many thanks to the perseverence of Peter Griffin, Manisha Lakhe, and Annie Zaidi at Caferati, and for making the opportunity available. Thanks also to Sudarshan who, IIRC, told me about the contest.

And if you're keen to know, my entry straddles cricket, mathematics and Japanese politics (whoa!). Now, I don't think it's the best thing I've ever written (that 'honour' (dubious) probably would be something like this story), and I haven't even written all that much in life, for there to be a scale of any kind. What's more: I just have lost the capacity to subjectively or objectively assess the entry. I'd like to hear fresh opinions of any kind about the story, if you have them for me. I won't be hurt :-). We all have to start somewhere. If you like what I write, a few efforts on this blog (that have been labeled) are available here.

Update: The publishers now have a feedback page up here. To specifically comment about my entry, click here.

The Silly Season of Predictions - the 52nd Filmfare Awards

As the acme of their efforts to be like the Oscars, the organisers of the Filmfare Awards have even managed to host their show the same day as their Hollywood counterparts. What would a dream awards result be like? We dip into the yucky waters to probe:

Best Film
Tough, tough, tough. I'd give it to Dhoom-2 for maintaining the vapourware illusion of having made a film, even by Bollywood standards. At this rate, Dhoom-3 will be the epitome of "a consensual hallucination", just for 200/- bucks.

Best Director
Rakesh Roshan (Krrish). For directing the same film n times over and getting away with it.

Best Actor in a leading role (Male)
Inky pinky ponky father had a donkey donkey died father cried inky pinky ponky. The winner: Shahrukh Khan (Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna) (statistics show that however sophisticated the algorithm, the main part of the answer is usually the same)

Best Actor in a leading role (Female)
Aishwarya Rai (Dhoom 2). What if she stops acting due to domestic duties and never gets nominated again? We'll have to wait at least 10 years for the Lifetime Achievement. Let's not take any chances.

Best Actor in a supporting role (Male)
Abhishek Bachchan Amitabh Bachchan Shweta Bachchan Jaya Bachchan, for Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna. Phew, the balance of power is restored after the Best Actor award.

Best Actor in a supporting role (Female)
Even the Oscars continue to say "Actress". Why the faux-modernism? Anyway, the award goes to Shilpa Shetty for acting as an actress, supported or cantilever.

Best Actor in a comic role
Hrithik Roshan (Krrish). After all, the role was literally taken from some random comic.

Best Actor in a negative role
Priyadarshan, for inflicting his poorly re-programmed Malayala-Panoramas on us.

Best Music
Pritam Chakraborty's BitTorrent client.

Best Lyrics
(Since this is probably the only category with an all-respectable nomination record, we will refrain from nasty commentary here).

Best Playback (Male)
The deviated septum currently known as Himesh Reshammiya wins, thanks to booth-capturing by, well, bhoots.

Best Playback (Female)
Kareena Kapoor ("I just called to say...", Omkara). Thankfully the Kapoors win an award this year too, so we don't have to resort to plan-B i.e. award the Lifetime Achievement Award to Babita.

The Silly Season of Predictions - The 79th Academy Awards

(I cannot think of the Academy Awards without thinking about dear old COEP's Regatta, for the Oscars and the Regatta increment side by side in Feb-March each year. Good luck for the 79th Regatta!)

From the Oscar nominations this year, I look into my crystal Kookaburra and divine:

Performance by an actor in a leading role
The Buzz: Forest Whitaker in "The Last King of Scotland" is apparently a shoo-in.
Sentimentally: Peter O’Toole in "Venus". He's been at the Oscars so many times! Give the man a competitive Oscar :-)
Blind Spot: DiCaprio? Unlikely.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role
The Buzz: An open race. Mark Wahlberg for "The Departed" leads, perhaps?
My Sentimental Fav.: Alan Arkin for "Little Miss Sunshine"
Blind Spot: Surprises likely. IIRC, this is usually the first award to be given out on the night, so we'll know first up.

Performance by an actress in a leading role
The Buzz: Helen Mirren in "The Queen"
My Sentimental Fav.: Mirren again. Terrific actress. Jeff from 'Coupling' would be rooting for her too :-)
Blind Spot: Penélope Cruz in "Volver"

Performance by an actress in a supporting role
The Buzz: Rinko Kikuchi in "Babel"
My Sentimental Fav.: Little miss Abigail Breslin in "Little Miss Sunshine"
Blind Spot: Can't think of an upset here

Achievement in directing
The Buzz: Tight as ever. Perhaps the long awaited Martin Scorsese Oscar, this time for "The Departed", will materialise. But there's grizzly old Clint-y. Never, ever discount him. He's always feeling lucky.
My Sentimental Fav.: Marty for sure.
Blind Spot: Alejandro González Iñárritu. The ensemble-hyperlinked-globalised movie directors are in vogue

Best foreign language film of the year
The Buzz: The absence of "Volver" was apparently a surprise, as was the inclusion of "Water". But seems like "Pan’s Labyrinth" is the front-runner here.
My Sentimental Fav.: I suppose one would have to say "Water", but I didn't quite like it a lot. But still, good luck.
Blind Spot: Have nary a clue

Best motion picture of the year
The Buzz: Ah, the big one. "Babel" or "Letters from Iwo Jima". "The Departed" a close follower. Tough to call. I picked the first two because they have Academy-friendly themes.
My Sentimental Fav.: The unlikely one: "Little Miss Sunshine". More practically, "The Departed".
Blind Spot: "The Queen"? Impossible, mate.

Watch out for Hirak's list of predictions, coming soon.

How many rules must a rider break...

Thought experiment: how many Indian traffic rules can be simultaneously broken using a two-wheeler situation? (The violations must be obvious, which rules out mundane things like not carrying a licence or pollution control certificate. Assumptions allowed: helmets are mandatory).

The best I could come up with were:
A two-wheeler (without side-cars :-)):
1. More than one (adult) pillion-rider
2. Rider has no helmet
3. Driving on the wrong side of the road
4. Without lights at night
5. Honking in a silent zone
6. Vehicle has no registration plate
7. Rider is talking on cellphone (is this an offence?)
8. At the instant of observation, riding through a red signal (it's not late enough for them to switch off the traffic lights ;-))

Can't do better than that.

(btw, it's not all that far-fetched. I have seen a simultaneous breaking of about 4 quite regularly)

We need some new adjectives

The likes of 'astonishing', 'mind-boggling', 'incredible' became officially obsolete today. New Zealand smashed their way past 346 to break their own record for a chase for the second time in two days time, this time by just 1 wicket. The stats are just pouring Dead Sea-scale salt into the abscesses: Australia now have the four best chases of all-time against them; this was their 5th straight loss to an old enemy; Michael Hussey has probably the worst ODI captaincy record of a Test-playing country's captain.

What's worse are the potential psychological scarrings. A team that made grown-up men cry must be in dire need of every psycho-analyst in the land. They threw everything at the opposition and still lost. Their bowling has just been shredded. Warne was smart enough to bail out, reputation intact. Nathan Bracken, conceding a six and a four in the last over, is the new Chetan Sharma. We run the risk of ascribing too much impact to these events, but the main damage has been to the bowling which is not really missing too many superstars. Australia's main strategy in the last couple of years has been to out-bat the opposition in the first innings. But these chases have severely eroded any defensive confidence in the camp and must greatly embolden the others.

The main test is to see what happens when Ponting comes back. We'll know then if it's a slide or a minor blip. Don't discount the famous Aussie resolve that won seven games in a row in 1999 to lift the Cup on the balcony of Lord's.

Watching 'Black Friday'

Anurag Kashyap must be a slightly happy man. One out (but not down) and some more to go. His little bright toddler, Black Friday, is out. Paanch, one fears, is growing up to become a bitter and angry adolescent. All these kids want to do first is to be able to come out. Then play with the other kids. Perhaps others will call them ugly and poor. But let them not become bitter without experiencing a moment of sunshine.

Like every self-respecting "good film" watcher, I had seen the bootleg version of the film and keenly anticipated the release. So went to make contribution to the Anurag Kashyap appreciation fund (as Samrat termed it). Hanging out at a local multiplex, waiting for Samrat and his wife, I saw a poster of "Black Friday" from a distance. Hanging upside down. A little burst of anger surged. Took it as a sign of callousness on part of the 'plex. Typical, one thought. Closer inspection. "This is not a mistake! We're crazy" said a sign on top. Smiles around.

The good news for those who've seen the circulated version on their PCs: there are several additional sequences in the film. The slightly bad news: the film seems a little long. Not unwieldy though, but just too long. The 2 hours print seen earlier seemed taut and precise. The Indian release, however, covers the entire book's scope (adding sequences about the landings, more on Dawood's - still a shadowy figure - involvement, and Tiger's immediate provocations in the pre-blast riots.)

What the film also does is further blast to smithereens the roof that conceals Hindi filmdom's underbelly, revealing a set of wonderful actors who have no place in sunny-side-up "Bollywood" (a term which I use pejoratively, of course). It's been a while since Satya that one saw a solid ensemble put together, whose business is not to strut about but merely to inhabit and exist in four dimensions.

Introspecting about the film, Kashyap wonders whether he's succeeded in his efforts at making a "necessary film" that will kindle self-debate in the minds of the watcher. Judging by reactions in the theatre, I'm pessimistic about this. For, like some of my experiences before, I heard people laugh at many of the wrong places. What excites laughter during a tense interrogation scene or when someone's being ripped apart or just merely hearing expletives? Does the director expect to hear laughter at these points? Does the audience let him down? Have they been weaned on a different cinematic diet? These questions always puzzle me.

In the end, the plug. Go watch "Black Friday". In a theatre. It's worth your time and money. God Promise. (And while you're at it, read S. Hussain Zaidi's book too.)

Get me the "Oh Scaar" CSS

Black is as black does, I suppose. The usually "filmy" Filmfare awards are going "black tie", in a time-tested Bollywood fashion that superficially apes the West once again. Gulzar-saab made a wonderful tongue-in-cheek comment asking what white-kurta-aficionados (btw, his kurta's structural qualities never fail to astound me) like him would do in this case? (He said he'll just carry the tie in his hand!)

In further saliva-spluttering irony, the awards are to be held in a Yash Chopra studio lot. Stand-up comedians could choke on the amazing number of jokes that this can inspire. Given that some of the entertainment will be pre-recorded, perhaps you could just save some more money pre-recording awards being given to friends and family. I guess the location also saves transportation costs.

TV watchers may have seen Yash Chopra plug, in his own unique accent, the revamped awards as potentially being very "classee" and "dignifhayed". That may be so for the expensive gowns and tuxedos, but what about the nominations themselves?

Previous Filmfare '07 rant

Yoo-hoo! He's on top!

First the 50s. Then the catches. You know the comeback's complete now when he becomes President of Turkmenistan. Wow! What a comeback.

Ok, ok, I got carried away with Turkmenistan. Can't blame me though. Look at the name.

Mind what you say

"As we know it only takes an injury. Who knows, one of the guys might roll their ankle on a ball when we first arrive. I'm sure Stuey will be the first to be called up then.

:: Ricky Ponting about Stuart Clark's omission from the Australian World Cup squad

Brett Lee might be wishing Ricky Ponting hadn't said that, for the Aussies barely set feet on New Zealand soil, let along the Caribbean, and the "prophecy" seems to be coming true. Brett Lee didn't slip on a ball, McGrath-style, but he's joined Symonds on the stretchers, with Ponting and Clarke themselves under injury cloud.

It's a bad time for the Aussies who are being hit badly with 4 losses in 5 games (with the win being a very nasty shave). Where has all the talk about the mighty and seamless replacements gone now? Everyone is susceptible, and selfishly speaking, I'm glad that the events of the last week have thrown open the World Cup.

Convergence '07

A public-service announcement: my department, KReSIT, is organising its annual research workshop which is called Convergence. We're focusing on research activities in the field of Networks this time, and the line-up of speakers seems very exciting for those working or studying in this area. All the details at the afore-mentioned link for those of you interested in the workshop.

Little Miss Sunshine

Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris' Little Miss Sunshine is one of the funniest films I've seen (the last being Khosla ka Ghosla). I'm not sure it needs to be analysed beyond that. One can take the gist of the film ("troubled family takes a roadtrip in an increasingly disintegrating vehicle to allow their little girl to have a shot at a beauty pageant for 6 or 7-year olds") and turn it into an allegory about life and hanging-in-there and the possibility of family values in these manic times. Or one could just sit back and be introduced to your laughing guts. Most reviews start with describing the group as a "dysfunctional family" (Dustin Hoffman said the film put the "fun" back into "dysfunctional" :-)), which doesn't surprise me but which I feel overstates things. Each member, except for Olive, has their own share of problems which at an individual level is incredibly painful. But if this is a "dysfunctional family", what, then, is normal?

But there I go analysing again. The movie is a must-watch. It boasts of some great acting with established actors like Greg Kinnear and Alan Arkin, favourites like Toni Collete, and surprises like Steve Carell and Paul Dano (when the latter explodes, man, the relief!). And of course, the wonderful Abigail Breslin as the icecream-fearing Litte Miss Sunshine aspirant picked up an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress (Arkin got a nod in the corresponding Male category). The film is also the indie choice in the Best Film category.

And I challenge you to to keep a straight face during the climax. To give you a sense, my own hysterical laughter would have given the Joker some anxious moments.

Bloodsports

Messages from my hostel's management continue to rock like a cradle in a typhoon. One such recent crowd-pleaser:

It is my pleasure to inform you all the about the outstanding performance of [hostel] in techfest'07. Two teams of our hostel won topmost prizes in the most gruesome competetions. and the other teams also performed really decently.

Previously correspondence: Grassy trolls and getting in-ti-mate.

"Omkara" rocks. Koi shaq?

The annual expletive-generating-exercise that is the Filmfare awards nominations is at hand. They make it easy by ignoring what is IMO, the best music of the year, in the Best Music Category. Yes, that's right, no nomination for Vishal Bhardwaj for Omkara.

Now that you've have rubbed your eyes in astonishment at that sentence, have recovered from the smarting pain in your arm from pinching it, and have cleared your throat of half-uttered *bleep*s at seeing Irk-sar and Doomed-Too in that list, let us rejoice. Vishal got away lucky with the music. What more stamp of quality than not being nominated for a Filmfare?

Grab your chance, Vishal. Cash in by selling Omkara audio CDs and DVDs with the new tagline: "Not nominated for the 52nd Filmfare Awards". And be careful. Don't win Best Director.

Bunky's in

I became a fan of Brad Hodge without knowing how he looked or how he played based merely on this piece he wrote at the time of making his long-cherished Test debut.

Like the more famous Mike Hussey, Hodge waited. And waited. It seemed like ever. It must have been even more difficult to see a rare spot open up and be swallowed up by someone else, who wouldn't let go. Brad Hodge got a Test 50 in his first innings, and a double century ^[1] soon after. He has an average of only 58, and that didn't help getting a place in the Ashes.

The ODI story was even worse. He makes 5 scores of five runs or less. Then Andrew Symonds injures a bicep hitting a flat six over point. He gets one last chance. Hits a 99*, after struggling (for confidence) in the first half of that astonishing innings. Helps win the match. Looks in control while batting. Stays in the team. Can't save the team in the finals, but seems increasingly assured. And here to stay. Oh, and he's a stunning outfielder. We'll see him in the World Cup for sure.

He's an irritating counter-example for those who would prefer to give up.

---

1: I must apologise to my teammates at the last Pune Landmark quiz. When asked "as of now, who's the Australian batsman to have a double century in his last Test innings", in my silly admiration, I said "Brad Hodge" without too much pondering. It was Jason Gillespie of course, and well, that double ton hadn't even been in Hodge's last innings so far. Then, tt didn't seem to my anxious mind that he would be playing any more Test cricket, but now he definitely will.

Taking a-part

You look at the notice. You decide to give it a shot. It's a creative thing, so you go away and rummage in the barn of your head. Nothing useful comes out. You pound your head. No luck today. You play the waiting game. You try to shut the door of consciousness hoping this will drop a huge hint to the submerged iceberg in your head.

Things start to trickle in. There is no startling inspiration, so you go to work hard on it. This is going to be one of those workman-like efforts. Eventually you come up with something that just passes the entry barrier. It'll have to do.

You turn it in. Best I could do, you say. I'll put it in and forget about it. But naturally, you don't. Hope, that comfortably numb bastard, seeps in through the crevices. Soon the spark of "perhaps I might win something" sets fire to the room. "It does take some hard work to win", you say to your lazy and sentimental encephalon. You buy your own syllogism.

Ah, but you didn't count on this being the real world. You take part - you lose - again. "But I didn't really have a chance, did I?", you relapse. But you look at the results. You think "some of these are not so great. Fine, that one was, but surely this one isn't? Mine is better". You're not in love with the concept of subjective judging. Again.

Will you take part next time? What's the use? But maybe next time, they'll change? C'mon, give them a chance. It must have been one person who didn't like it. Can't please everyone all the time. Here, let's look at it again. Hmm, you can't tell whether it's good or bad. Yo've lost all feeling in the opinion-cortex. Again.

The sweetest bagel

It was the 25th of January, 2007. I had risen very early that day, at 5 am, in order to catch a train. Back home, the inevitable respects were paid to cable, and the last fragments of Sharapova's Australian Open semi-final were seen. A surprise: the first men's semi-final, featuring Roger Federer and Andy Roddick, was to be played at 2:30 pm IST the same day, and not on Friday. That meant the end of a salubrious afternoon nap.

The pre-match speculation was all about how Roddick, in concert with Jimmy Connors, had improved his game, while Federer was making loaded statements saying he didn't practice (or was it just the ultra-cheerful Wilkins-Amritraj joDii that read too much into it?) that much. The gap had seemingly been reduced. OK, let's see, one thought.

Set one. I was watching something else, and before I could get back, Federer had broken Roddick to go 1-0 up. But Roddick broke back later in the set, and we went: "ah, here's the contest we've been promised for years" (BTW, head-to-head Roddick was 1-12 before the match, I think, with the one on his side having last come in 2003.) Federer didn't look all that menacing, but was still good enough to take the first set 6-4, having broke A-Rod once more.

Then it began. Roddick served. Somebody had fiddled with the time-controls. The ball was coming back probably even before Roddick had served it. He would make outrageous angles, only to see the ball whizz back at angles that Euclid had never imagined. Federer picked up a half-volley from the baseline to send it crosscourt past Roddick - a Roddick who has been on the receiving end of many a sublime Federer stroke, but the consistency and length of the conjuring trick was the magic here.

It got so bad that Roddick, like a befuddled kindergartener, was looking up at Connors after almost every shot, with trembling lips. But even if Connors' had taken the premium correspondence course from Yuri Sharapov, he wouldn't have been able to do much. You felt really bad for Roddick. As Harish implied in a post, Federer is creating new and despairing patients for sports psychiatrists.

Eventually and after some apologies from Federer for being so good, it was all over. Not surprisingly, the set had been won 6-0. I cannot recall having seen a more soul-affirming/destroying (depending on which side of the net you are) set than that.

Keeping an ear out
(The sounds of Nishabd, Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd., Delhii Heights)

Amitabh Bachchan's voice singing rozaanaa in the otherwise songless Nishabd is immediately arresting. Heard so far in bits on radio and TV trailers, this song of yearning reminds one of the soulful niilaa aasmaa.n (Silsila). For many years, we have been painfully inflicted with the stock Amitabh song - one that places/clones his baritone for some Punjabbee family wedding song. rozaanaa is much more private and melancholic. I had completely forgotten that Vishal Bhardwaj was composing this one, and it resulted in a "who else but" moment. Now to wait to hear the complete song. *** I have looked forward to the songs of Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd. ever since I saw the trailers on TV. Especially Sunidhi Chauhan's robust "sajnaa ji vaari vaari" accompanying the most unabashed dancing seen on screen in a long time (and by a terrific ensemble to boot). Vishal-Shekhar have always had something to offer and this is probably their best since "Jhankaar Beats". The songs are worth quite a few iterations and grow on you well. And does anyone know if the Bengali instrumental track "Haath Dhore Niye Chalo" is a reprisal of some existing track, and what it means? *** Delhi Heights was anticipated because Rabbi Shergill, the man who shot to the top of the pops accompanied by Baba Bulle Shah and a guitar, was helming its music. (Incidentally, this film is produced by Shivaji Ganesan Productions - a very interesting and bold move given the movie doesn't seem to be your traditional Bollywood fare.) The track featuring on the music channels is nice to listen to. More impressive were the accompanying visuals - mostly made up of stills, which the camera zooms in or pulls out of. This is a good idea, given that most of its leads (likes of Neha Dhupia, Rohit Roy, Simone Singh, Jimmy Shergill) are extremely photogenic people who don't necessarily possess grade-A acting skills.

Not spotted: a hoax!

This is fairly hilarious. Rediff has a silly regular feature where they encourage readers to mail in photographs taken with celebrities. It is, IMO, a fairly idiotic attempt at increasing readership.

Today, Rediff posted a photograph of A.R.Rahman posing with "a fan" called "Brian Leno" in Toronto. Alert readers quickly recognised the man in the picture as Mohit Rajhans, a film reviewer with a local TV channel. Anyone with the slightest knowledge of late-night US TV would recognise the purported reader's name as being a mash of Conan O' Brien and Jay Leno (it smelt fishy instantaneously when I saw the name on the main page - I didn't follow the link then, but now it seems so obvious).

The "Spotted!" page is still up there, but I've saved a screenshot just in case. From now on, the only thing Rediff will be sure is genuine is when someone sends in a picture of them next to a leopard and the headline says: "Spotted!"

* Story via the A.R.Rahman fans egroup.
* Previous Rediff rant.

Blocking the blog

A fellow blogger writes on her blog how Blogger is now blocked in his office (didn't want to link to the post without permission and induce any "doocing".) The Indian Express on Sunday had an article on how people are getting fired for spending time on social networking sites despite being told not to. Unlike the facetious "jalao-jalao" fetish of politicians when it comes to web technology, this is a much more serious problem that needs some more thought than merely blocking popular websites.

These measures don't work very effectively because proxy sites can be accessed or new proxy sites can be set up with not too much difficulty. People can blog via email or by Blogger APIs. One can read blogs via news aggregators. In fact, for every ban, if there is enough will, it can be subverted with not much inconvenience. Administrators need to understand that the nature of technology is such. Alternative IMs, blogs, social networks will crop up innovatively to staunch the demand. As long as you cannot ban email and/or a search engine, you will keep tilting at the windmills.

However, this is not to defend those malingerers who are not working. In my personal experience, most good people manage a good balance of work and timepass (this *is* usually timepass, as is chatting all the while on mobile phones with blaring ringtones to boot). But a lot of people aren't quite that professional. It's not just about web access, but their lack of professionalism extends to other spheres as well. The bad habits of these people end up overshadowing the benefits of networking and blogging sites.

It's a tough situation, and some more creative solutions are needed. The Infosys model of allowing access only for a few hours (the actual implementation on the ground is a little flawed, according to reports) may be a short-term solution, but I would cringe at working in such a place. However, these models are becoming more universally adopted, which is a shame. I may have a low attention threshold, but I'd like to think that never has work suffered because of my browsing or blogging. However, I'd stay away from making such a claim for all fellow workers. Free internet access is a huge bonus of working in such industries and perhaps it can be used as an incentive to improve work habits. A one-size-fits-all approach is not going to work in the long run.

Ivan Lendl not invited

Announcements, like sign-boards, have donated more jokes to humanity than all late-night television put together. My hostel is organising a fest of sorts for "its inmates", which in the finite wisdom of those in the naming committee, has been named MARDIGRASS.

Probably it's just me who has a less-than-pure mind, but it sounds like an invitation to partake of marijuana in Punjabi. Let's do the bhang, da.

K-not place

The capital-As get engaged, putting end to a lot of speculation. According to these reports, the lambii-race-kaa-ghoDaa popped the question only recently, unlike earlier reports which already had them married off. So was he influenced by media reports? One does not know. Anyway, more practically, the news is going to help collections of Guru.

The news has also signed the death warrants of several acres of forestland, for the media is going to whip itself into a frenzy not seen since the days of old English public school punishments. In moments of rare sanity, I think Gandhiji retreated to Noakhali during the first Independence Day just to avoid the media frenzy of those times. I won't say more lest my blog get featured on TV channels and gets banned.

Coming to back in order to justify the "rants" label on this post, the Rediff article linked above has been atrociously composed. "It is believed that Abhishek proposed Aishwarya after the premiere of Guru in New York." goes an early line. It contains a phrase that Indian teenagers are very familiar with, namely, "A proposed B". I seem to be an mangy-haired unromantic puritan for thinking : should it not be "proposed to"? Isn't using "proposed" saying Abhishek put forth Aishwarya's name for something? Like for President of the BCCI, for instance. Did somebody "second" the affair? What's more romantic than getting the grammar right?

Or take the sentence "Abhishek and Aishwarya, also known as Abhiwarya ...". Really? Just like Manchester United FC are known as "Men in Black"? Only Rediff seems to (desperately want to) call them that.

Or to complete that sentence with a factual error: "... first acted together in the movie Kuch Na Kaho in 2003". Beep! Wrong answer. There was that number-alphabet soup called Dhai Akshar Prem Ke in 2000.

Ok, I've finished showing off. The Baby B had a close shave with a charismatic automobile earlier, while Ms. Rai has had at least one-and-a-half skirmishes with clean-shaves. Anyway, everyone deserves some good luck and cheers at such moments, so "besht luck" as we say in these parts. And watch out for the papas and the raspberries and gifts labelled Khan or Oberoi.

Update: Zero points to another incredibly silly Rediff article called What should Abhiwarya do? (Damn, I'm helping their PageRank.). I think you can apportion part of the blame to the commentors below on that page's message board who are actually offering their suggestions. I don't know what they should do, but Rediff should certainly leave 'em alone.

Daft and dafter: PFC has a post on the TV media frenzy.

Home is where... the "tayir chaadam" is

Have you faced ridicule for being a 'curd-rice' aficionado? I have. As with many things, such discrimination is based on a lack of understanding of the immense joy that the simple mixture of curd and rice (and we're not even getting into other culinary accessories) can bring. If only we Curdistanis had been a little more savvy, the book would have been Curd Rice for the Soul.

A simple recipe for curd rice (or tayir chaadam for those of us in the know):

Ingredients: curd, rice
Directions: pour curd on rice. Mix (can use fingers) well. Welcome to curd rice.

Mind you, I'm not one of those who has to eat curd-rice each meal, each day. There are days when I don't need to eat it after a bunch of chapaatiis or even if I've had a Bangladesh-worth of rice before (I know it's a shock revelation: will the rest of the Curdistanis retract my membership for this?). But when the stomach needs calm after a night spent among warring spices, I turn to the bowl of tayir in the fridge. Or on days when I don't feel in the mood for food. The curd is willing to be friends with all kinds of rice and is happy to share the plate with any cast, ranging from sambaars and rasams, kuuTTus and bhaajiis, a mere pickle perhaps, or even mixed fruit jam. It is very democratic and adjusting, and is unmindful of those who steal its thunder.

Or you could just put a touch of salt and have nothing else (I'd recommend warm rice with this). You don't have to pamper your curd rice. But it's good to show your appreciation once in a while. Put in a taDkaa of mustard seeds (my cousin calls this "the spotted tayir chaadam") and some chopped green chillies.

Unfortunately, those who eat curd rice in hotels (and worse, sing praises) eat some vilaayati show-off cousin which always has a bunch of masaale and onions and what-not. They know not that moms make the best curd rice at the home kitchen, even if it seems to demand very little of their fabulous culinary skills. What's useful is that you can whip it up too yourself and be guaranteed of some satisfying success. Many's a person who goes home after his five-course meal and has "konjam tayir chaadam" to round the day off. And well known is the plight of the wedding guest, who despite having battled rivers of rasam and paayasam, is still easily tempted into turning it into a Pyrrhic victory by the mesmerising thick curd on rice with that last bit of uurgaai that will clear the banana leaf.

Finally, despite the teasing about curd rice, I never wavered. You could always go back to it and never be disappointed. In the short docu-film of daily life, it is a happy ending. (Apologies, but I have to wrap this up now for drool has engulfed my desk. And I have not had lunch.)

And earlier on SEvai

Cricketing Logic

West Indies are coming to India to play one day cricket. Why? Ostensibly, to prepare for the World Cup. Where is the World Cup to be held? In the West Indies.

Well, the poor cricketers can't do much if their board is financially starved and marketing men run itineraries.

In Attack of Sehwag

Gaurav writes in defence of Virender Sehwag, who's just been axed from the Indian one-day team. A few rebuttals to some of his points:

1. Of course, Sehwag has been "figured out", but that happened much earlier. Any batsman who's around for more than two years is usually figured out, and everyone knows the score. It is what bowlers make of this and how batsmen counter their opponents' strategies. In this case, the tendencies (usually successful) to swish outside off-stump and the inconvenient defensive jab to the ball aimed into his left shoulder from wide of the right arm bowler's crease are well-known. South Africa, due to various bowling muddles, never got around to doing the second, but they were helped by Sehwag succumbing to the first. In Sehwag's case, the technical flaws have never been of as much concern as he usually did not let them mentally interfere with what he could do, namely give the ball a right hammering.

2. What's missing is the mental game. It was painful to watch him go at the ball like a robot with one set of control instructions. He had no B-plan. Worse, he didn't seem inclined to think of one. A mere middle-order switch wasn't going to do the trick.

3. Overall, he seemed a lazy cricketer. It's exactly the range of shots and talent on offer, which Gaurav speaks of, that warrants a punitive omission. The return of Ganguly and Zaheer actually confirmed the worth of such an action, which is fairly unprecedented in recent Indian cricket. Complacency can set in even if you think you guard against it. An interesting counterpoint is how Graeme Smith poked around even though he was having a worse time than Sehwag.

Bottomline: you can't always make hay while the sun shines. Sometimes, you have to stand shivering in the rain and look for the grass in the wet mud, instead of going back to the hut. (Actually, that's good advice for me too :-))

Blogger search - no longer a vast emptiness

I have ranted about Blogger Search being like a lollipop, but I'm now pleased to report that since the move to Blogger Beta (as I like to call it), things have improved by several notches. Now, searching via the top-left search box on this blog doesn't seem to go through the Google search page using the "site:" qualifier. I have a feeling that they've twiddled around with the kind of words being indexed on blogs and it's paying off. All my recent searches have yielded perfectly suitable results, while earlier recall was about 25%. Nice work and the new Blogger continues to quietly impress.

'Guru' - a movie review

Mani Ratnam's Guru was probably intended to be his Hindi equivalent of what Alaipayuthe was in Tamil - a return to simpler story-telling after the adventures of Yuva and Iruvar. Alaipayuthe was a big hit, fuelled by the popularity of the music, the 'youth quotient' of the story, and the freshness of the lead pair. Guru, in contrast, has a much more subdued soundtrack appeal, a more ponderous story line, and a pair whose main acting cheers have only come before in Ratnam films.

Despite the mandatory Mani Ratnam opening disclaimer, Guru makes several clear references to the life of Dhirubhai Ambani, not just in spirit, but also in details like Burmah Shell, the paralysis, and the business domain. The story places Gurukant Desai as the canny and enterprising protagonist, and doesn't quite show the shades of grey as much as one would expect. The result is a film shrouded primarily in old-style Indian mainstream film colours - a clearly defined protagonist with the occasional misdemeanours that you turn a blind eye too that the story must end happily for. As a result, don't expect any significant surprises with the story. Yet, the story is warmly told.

The plot tells of dynamic businessman Guru (Abhishek Bachchan), his wife Sujata (Aishwarya Rai), his ambivalent relationship with friend/mentor/foe Manik 'Nanaji' Dasgupta (Mithun Chakraborty), Nanaji's ward (I didn't quite understand their relationship) Minu (Vidya Balan), the angry young journalist Shyam Saxena (R. Madhavan) and a host of small parts. Guru is one-dimensional in the sense that all he worries about is getting to next buck. The tale takes us through 30 years of his life in becoming India's top businessman. I read Gita Piramal's book 'Business Maharajahs', especially the section on Dhirubhai Ambani, a few months ago and realised that though these men have extremely exciting lives on their corporate battlefields (and none more interesting than Ambani's own), it is quite difficult to convey that excitement to the reader. This is true of Guru as well.

The film's biggest problem is that it never hits any signficiant high notes for too long. The rousing defence speech at the end is quite well-made, but comes in too late to save the ship. The Vidya Balan angle seems very superfluous to proceedings and was perhaps placed to keep Nanaji and Guru connected during their period of warfare. The reporter bit is a little wasted too.

The other big contender for "oh no" moments are some of the song placements. For a while, Mani Ratnam has struggled with songs, even though he defends the idea in almost all his interviews. The songs crept back into Yuva (even Rahman admitted recently that they "started apologetically"), and in Guru, they appear too close to each other, aren't quite exploited, or are plainly an unnecessary reflex from an age when 6 song situations were blocked out on screen-time. 'Mayya Mayya' cleverly blends into the title sequence (a nice shuffling of paper). 'Barso Re' is supposed to be an introduction to the heroine's character, but a more definitive underlining happens with her actions towards the end of the song, which rendered the song unnecessary. Instead, it becomes a mere clone of 'chinna chinna' (Roja) or even 'konjum mainakkaLe' (Kandukondain...)(1) and an excuse to give Rai some pretty screen time. The gorgeous 'Aye hairath-e-aashiqui' fades into the background only to appear sporadically. 'Baazi Lagaa' is the aural equivalent of a blink-and-miss. 'Tere Bina' is wonderful to listen to, but the choreography was looked like a series of out-takes. I wonder if that was intentional. I liked the counterpoint of the situation for the song, but for a better use of that device, refer Rang De Basanti. The film begins with the anthemic 'Jaage.n hai der tak', but its relative absence in the rest of the film doesn't seem to justify its theme status. However, Rahman does pull a surprise with the version with Guru's daughters singing it - a very emotional chord is struck at that point. 'Yamo Yamo' is so late and useless that even Wodehouse wouldn't be able to find an adequate simile. You need to sit down and have a think about the songs, Mr. Ratnam. The usually innovative choreography of your films was insipid this time.

That's not to claim that there aren't any other moments of interest - a couple of nice editing cuts, the domestic chemistry between Sujata and Guru (Mani Ratnam has traditionally been good at portraying middle-class mores) and the attack on Nanaji. Mithun Chakraborty (in a respectful touch, he is credited first) is very good in a role, the kind of which I'm sure no one's seen him do in a long time. With all the dancing and flying, we tend to forget the wonderful straightforward acting talent that he has selectively put on display. This will remove the rust from those memories. Abhishek Bachchan gets full points for effort. I can think of very few 'stars' who would be willing to let themselves go physically in the manner seen and display a paunch proudly, but I guess this is the famed 'I will do anything for Mani Ratnam' effect. Acting-wise, he does a decent job with some flares of excellence. But he is by no means a naturally gifted talent like his dad or even a Hrithik Roshan, and that shows (2). People who have surprised by comments that Aishwarya Rai actually acted well in Iruvar will see what I mean when they see this film. For one, she isn't at all irritating. Moments of affected lower-class touches as seen in Raincoat are very, very few. The best test is when she is not the focus of a frame (as happens several times) and she remains in character. It's a director-driven performance that should decrease some of the flak she's received. Personally, I found her performance to be good. (An interesting touch was that the film portrays her as someone who is slightly older to Guru, just as in real life!)

A host of minor cast appearances can be spotted, mostly competent - Dhritiman Banerjee was a bit of a surprise. Rajeev Menon's camerawork was too jittery for my liking, and I long for the days of P.C.Sriram or Santosh Sivan. Vijay Acharya's dialogues were a little patchy - the finale speech was well-done - but this film needed some magic in the dialogues which was missing. One wonders whether the outcome would have been different had Anurag Kashyap continued to work on it (he, along with other Mani Ratnam writing regulars, Tamil writer Sujata and Suhasini, receives a credit for additional dialogues.) Nice art direction as usual by Samir Chanda, with the old posters of Kaagaz Ke Phool and Naya Daur, the Turkish spots, and the tram that plays its part at one point.

If you're one whose followed the films of Mani Ratnam, then you'll be disappointed with this film and its place in the ordered filmography. Mani Ratnam has done much better in the past, and with one arm behind his back. However, it seems to me that those viewers without that baggage may warm to Guru. After all, the films I don't seem to think much of do fairly well at the box office, and if it happens here, I wouldn't complain too much. It's a sincere effort, commendably without any gimmicks unlike other big productions, and one that attempts a cosmopolitan touch. For the head-shakers, a viewing of Iruvar or Kannathil... or Nayagan or Mouna Ragam may be in order.

And...
* Trailer watch before the film showed glimpses of both films on top of my drool-list: The Blue Umbrella, which now will be distributed by UTV on a bigger scale, and 'Black Friday', which is coolly exploiting the fact the film was banned for two years in the trailer (I could see snatches of scenes of the 45 minutes missing in the bootleg print). (All news about both via George 's blog)

Reviews: The film seems to be getting mixed but mostly positive reviews. Rediff's Raja Sen was first off the blocks with feelings of what may have been, Baradwaj Rangan's happy with several aspects but questions some of the morality.

---

1. incidentally involving both the directors of those films here.
2. and obviously, we aren't even going to talk about previous Ratnam bio-pic actors like Kamalhassan or Mohanlal
3. Personal highlight: first time I've done a "first day, first show"!

New Year, New Definition

New Year: a day which cities celebrate by arranging massive traffic jams

BC quizzes in Pune

We have 3 quizzes this Sunday. All the details are at this link.

Toot-ette's Syndrome

I am convinced some vehicles suffer from Tourette's Syndrome. What else explains the tendency of some automobiles to keep honking from behind?

Earlier today, I was cycling along with friends down an empty road when an auto started to talk dirty from behind. Moving from our left lane to the non-existent ultra-Maoist lane off the road, the auto went past. With a honk. What's more, it travelled down the road intermittently spewing *b(l)eeps* at no one in particular. What else than Tourette's?

This impression is further increased by the fact that drivers of these renegade motors give you a hapless look - the "how could I be so rude as to honk at you unnecessarily?" version. Their vehicles must be taking them for a ride.

Blog publishing frequently

Blog publishing frequently

This blog migrated to the newer version of Blogger, and as Aditya predicted, I'm all gaga over the possibilities of using labels. I'd like to label each and every post of mine, however trivial, and so site feeds for this blog will show up with the promise of new posts in their UIs, but will only be old posts garnished with a label. Please do not blame your aggregator.

kaikuu?

A selection of haikus:

Disemvowelment,
the heart of SMS-talk,
rips English's guts out

Autumn is a race,
man seeks the comfort of fire,
sunlight comes second

Lying on my back.
A cloud flits by in the sky.
Hey, it made a face!

To the passing ant,
I am God. It is afraid.
But today, I'm kind.

Is this a haiku?
Only if I can squeeze in
enough syllables.

All you need is Spam

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam.
There's nothing you can sell that can't be sold.
Nothing you can write that can't be e-mailed.
Nothing you need to post but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.
There's nothing you can make that can't be aired.
No one you can meet that can't be reached.
Nothing you need script but you can learn how to be in the box
It's easy.
All you need is Spam, all you need is Spam,
All you need is Spam, Spam, Spam is all you need.
Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam.
All you need is Spam, all you need is Spam,
All you need is Spam, Spam, Spam is all you need.
There's nothing you can promise that isn't big.
Nothing a Bayesian can filter that isn't text.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're not meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is Spam, all you need is Spam,
All you need is Spam, Spam, Spam is all you need.
All you need is Spam (all together now)
All you need is Spam (everybody)
All you need is Spam, Spam, Spam is all you need.
(background: She Spams me, yeah, yeah, yeah...)

(With apologies to The Beatles)

The job is 1/3rd done

Well done, the Indian cricket team. But the modern team that now clearly knows how to win away from home (and has to sometimes remind itself of how to do win at home :-)) needs to learn to avoid a historic trend. Indian teams have paradoxically been at their most vulnerable immediately after winning Tests abroad, given what has happened before in Australia (2003), Pakistan (2004), and West Indies (2002).

But what happened today was fun. There were a few parallels between the Australian and Indian wins today, with Flintoff and Pollock leading a late and doomed revival at the end, and veteran leggies Warne and Kumble seeing their teams through. The celebrations were similarly insane. Test cricket's better days.

Chatrii aur Khatrii

Looking forward to Vishal Bhardwaj's The Blue Umbrella, based on Ruskin Bond's short story of the same name, releasing on the 5th of January. Trailers are out and the Umbrella is looking magical. As is Pankaj Kapur's performance, even in the couple of minutes we see him in the teaser.

And: Rediff feature on the film, Raja Sen raving about the film.

Five reasons to watch Test cricket

1. No. 10 pair Monty Panesar and Steve Harmison peppering the boundary with some carefully chosen shots much to the annoyance of the Aussie bowlers
2. Gorgeous Test match batting by Sachin Tendulkar in the first innings at the Wanderers. An effort that was 90% perfect, with some assured leaves and masterly drives. It was not quite a masterclass, but a great tutorial. But only 90%, because 9% docked for getting out to a good but not unplayable (from my seat) Kallis delivery, and 1% for a Nel ball that got him into an awkward spot.
3. Adam Gilchrist striking the ball with such élan to bring up the 2nd fastest ton in Test history. If Umpires Dar and Koertzen had "wided" a couple of ungettable balls, then he'd even have gone past Sir Viv. The hygiene of his hitting would have made mothers all around the world proud. If I am not mistaken, he now has the 2nd fastest hundred and double hundreds in the profession.
4. An Indian pace attack skittling out a Test side in 25 odd overs for under a 100. Away.
5. The Channel Nine coverage: the "3-tracker", the "hot-spot", the "ultra slow motion" make viewing a pleasure. They also introduced the simple but novel idea of three commentators at the same time (which Star Sports have picked up too). As long as one of them is not Tony Greig, it's a great place to watch cricket.

Playing away from the body for the last time

One of my most favourite contemporary batsmen, one who rescued the adjective "elegant" from being reduced to a overused platitude, calls it a day. A recurring pattern of Damien Martyn's career has been the repeated questioning of his place in the mega-talented Aussie team probably because he seems so un-Australian, in his subdued exploration of his extravagant talent (think VVS in India).

The cliché goes that one must retire when people ask why. I'm inclined to ask why of the man of whom I thought 'If life was the Australian cricket team, I'd be Damien Martyn'. Farewell Marto.

Are you jiivit?

George provides a comprehensive summary re: the current state of affairs of the spaghetti bowl that is Ram Gopal Varma ka Sholay. Given that the cast seems to have turned into a local railway platform what with the comings and goings, it's sheer ego-power that seems to drive Ram Gopal Varma ahead with the project.

Even if he makes a great tribute (he didn't quite manage it in Sarkar) to the by now only parody-fodder classic, what's the point? The tendency of many of the current breed of Indian newbie directors to fulfill childhood fantasies is becoming fairly painful. Perhaps a much better idea could have been to make a Gabbar-prequel, a la Anakin Skywalker to D.V. story. RGV could have then indulged, and with justification, in drooling over say, Abhishek as Gabbar and Amitabh as (the legendary) Hari Singh. It's a backstory waiting to be told. Lal-ettan could still have played the Thakur.

The problem with RGV films of late (and make no mistake about the fact that we still adore what the man did, but now that Vishal B and Anurag K sparkle brightly on the horizon, RGV is no longer the only pole of hope) is that he collaborates with far too few of the "good" folks. Anurag Kashyap reckons RGV still has it. A certain Sourav Chandidas Ganguly showed today that he still has the power to surprise. We're waiting for the similarly temperamental Ram Gopal Varma to resume business.

"Eleanor Rigby" by Douglas Coupland

Douglas Coupland is probably best known for coining the period-defining moniker "Generation X". It was merely on that basis that I reached out and picked up his 2004 book "Eleanor Rigby" off the library shelf.

"Eleanor Rigby" is narrated by Liz Dunn, someone whose life measures upto the song. Through Liz, the novel provides some of the best insights into the curious mental state that is loneliness, threading through the immense anonymity and sameness that life can cloak itself with. Now, society as a whole thrives on dispelling physical loneliness - dwellings overrun into each other, marriages mean you are a unit of at least two, and technology makes a mockery of Euclidean spaces. But to the loner (who could be that by choice or otherwise), it only provides more evidence of how isolated she is.

But even the loneliest of lives have their share of excitement. Liz Dunn's life is invaded by the Hale-Bopp comet, a long-lost son, an even more lost past, and even a meteorite. This may seem terribly exciting to happen to one person, but unlike other novels where the novelty of the situation forms the raison d'etre of the book, here these events are mulled over and eventually decay to dullness. Liz is comfortable with her loneliness, which doesn't necessary stop her from thinking about it. But some changes are irreversible, and maybe, there's a little companionship in the horizon? Hard to tell.

Now, I'm not saying this is a great novel - far from it. It's a very easy read though. Liz is no fool - she may live outside the orbit of society, but there isn't much she can do about it. This enables her to make some objectively sardonic commentary about the others. The ending, indeed the entire progression may seem flawed and unable to go anywhere. But I didn't mind it not going anywhere. I was just surprised to see someone capture the idea of loneliness so well. Do exciting people lead exciting lives because exciting things happen to them, or because they make things exciting? People in novels are almost always exciting or are having exciting things happen to them (like the kids in Enid Blyton novels). It was a nice change to have Liz Dunn speak about a uni-life.

Elsewhere, a bunch of reviews on the book
And mirrored on the lit blog

biis Over baad

India play their first ever Twenty20 International cricket match today. In their history, India have never ever won the first matches they played in the two previous forms of international cricket.

India lost their first Test match versus England in 1932 by 158 runs. Their first one day international ended in the same result, losing again to England, but this time by 4 wickets.

Incidentally, India will become the last Test playing nation to go "Twenty20" - a mixture of apathy and snootiness has played its part in not being up wth the times. So given all this history and the current state of affairs and South Africa's 100% record in this tiniest of forms, it'll be a surprise if India beat form and fortune.

(update: which they did.)