The Big Fat, Freckled Wedding !..

They say, “If your father is poor, that’s your fate but if your father in law is poor that’s your stupidity!”…

But it seems Archie is being smart as he prepares himself to get married to the snobbish, irrestible, high maintenance and rich Veronica. The 600 edition of this comic that presented us the world of Riverdale is gaining much publicity. For many decades, Archie comics have ruled the hearts of several teenage generations. No wonder, the newspapers and the blogging community are full of comments on Archies wedding with Veronica.

Perhaps every child in urban area has fond memories of reading Archie. Archie Andrews is perpetually confused whether he should date the rich Veronica Lodge or the cute next door blonde Betty Cooper. His best friend, Jughead Jones is a simpleton and lives to eat. The other characters were equally alluring and hilarious. Reggie hates Archie and would do anything to woo Veronica, while big Moose whose intelligence is not more than a twenty watt bulb would break anyone who messes with his girl, Midget. The teachers from Riverdale High were equally confused, lost and hilarious. Sharing those comics with school friends, reading them fast , browsing those double digest in bus, train, and when you were glued to bed with slight temperature, or simply reading it whenever you were joyful or sad was distinctly part of our growing years. To a large extent, these comics were microcosm of American society.

The strength of this comics lied not just in reading their funny escapades but more so in their amazing caricature. The freckled face Archie and the other pimpled members were always upto something and looked innocent, charming and indeed amusing. You will cringe if you happen to see the modern day version of this comic. Look what they have done to Veronica, Betty, Big Moose and Midget. I wonder why Archie and the Riverdale gang have to age and graduate out of school. Perhaps they should have taken some cue from Benjamin Button.

Indian newspapers have roped in several Bollywood celebrities to comment on this great wedding and one Archie fan, Sara replied on the Archies.com, “Archie you better pick Betty! Betty is crazy for you and much more nice to you! Veronica is to snobby for you! If you don't pick Betty I might not read another Archie comic again! Veronica is a better match for Reggie. Oh Jug please! Please! Talk Archie into picking Betty!”

It’s nice to see such passionate comment but the marketing gimmick sucks. The comic is popular among a certain age group and avidly read by students who presumably are adolescent. Unless the producers of this comic wants to promote the glorious institution of marriage and subtly and rightfully discourage teenage pregnancy. Hope some good sense will prevail and Archie and his gang would be allowed to be what they are - Just students!.. Or perhaps it is better to remove the old comics from the loft and read ..

IPL 2 - African Safari !...

India has one religion - Cricket!
It’s a different matter that the purists like me, worship for 5 days, some for a day and many for few hours. Test cricket is an art and has its own grace and charm. Nothing can be more blissful and ecstatic than to watch our demi-Gods appear in spotless white flannels, with their body moving away from the red cherry and the interplay between the batsmen and the bowlers that draws out a contest and separates the men from the boys.

There are times, when the eyes glaze over and the mind goes numb. Something along these lines usually happens, when you watch T20 - where art becomes an adventure, a game of patience turns into a hysterical cacophony that presents in abundance youthful impatience, exuberance and innovation. Perhaps this is what modern art is all about?

IPL testifies that Success is almost a question of being in the right place with the right product with the right name at the right time. Indeed, the sports business is a buyer's market in which broadcasters and sponsors not only define and dictate price but also change the game to suit their needs. Well, sports have no choice but to accept.

While IPL in South Africa promises to become International Premier League, attract Indian Diaspora and perhaps attract foreign owners, it remains to be seen how many eye balls it will receive as it clashes with general election.

It is difficult to predict the winner but let’s take a quick look at the contenders.

Rajasthan Royals – The Three ‘S’ – beautiful Shilpa, legendary Shane Warne and the swashbuckling Shane Watson are the ones who are to be watched. Unfortunately Sohail Tanveer will be missed. All rounder Morne Morkel, Prolific batsmen Graham Smith, the energetic Asnodkar and Yusuf Pathan - the only T20 specialist promise to take the team into semis.

Chennai Super Kings – Despite his Indian morning squat, M.S.Dhoni did an excellent job behind the wickets in the windy conditions in New-Zealand. Normally wicket keepers sit on their toes. But Dhoni must take care of his fitness and it is possible if he asks Parthiv to keep wickets. The magician Murli, the gentle and fast Ntini, the hard hitter Hayden and Raina around, this team will move up and if they fail Dhoni and Flintoff can single handedly change the course of match. The Australian batting sensation Hussey will be terribly missed.

Delhi Dare Devils – McGrath doesn’t look in his prime and again its upto Sehwag and Gambhir to shoulder the responsibilities. At a time when left arm orthodox spin is dying, it is heartening to see the Kiwi skipper Vettori playing T20. Hopefully he will spin many aces. De-Villiers and Collingwood will certainly make a huge difference.

Kings X1 Punjab – Preity with her enthusiasm and jadoo –ki- jhappi promises to keep the team motivated. Like any south paw, Shaun Marsh batting is stylish and not to be missed. He has to his company the dynamic Sanghakarra, the graceful Jaywardana, the Australians Katich, Pomersbach and Bret Lee and our dashing Yuvraj who make this team formidable. Let’s hope Sreeshant makes the ball dance and stays calm.

Kolkata Knight Riders – Coach Buchannan may play games with Ganguly and install multiple captains but the real skipper is none other than King Khan. Brendon McCullum, Ishaan, Ponting and Agarkar are promising but the aspect of team work seems to be missing. Let’s hope we see good performance from Murtaza Hussain, Cheteswar Pujara and hope Vinit Indulkar gets a chance.

Deccan Chargers – Gilchrist and Laxman are a study in contrast. One uses his power while the other flicks his wrist. Gibbs and Chaminda Vaas are equally great. I am keen to see the talented Rohit Sharma perform but looking at his scores against the Kiwis, its time some one kicks his back side. Perhaps it would be nice if he reminisces into his past, when he boarded the local train from Borivali to Churchgate!

Bangalore Royals – Many Indian youngsters would struggle on fast paced proteas wickets but not Dravid and Kumble can still weave magic. Jacque Kallis is in twilight of his career. Kevin Pietersen, Dale Steyn, Boucher, Ross Taylor and Jesse Ryder have bolstered this team.

Mumbai Indians – Now it is difficult to beat a team whose management believes in the old adage: “penny wise, pound foolish”. There are chances that this team will induct local players from Mumbai. Shaun Pollock (Polly Kaka), the in-form Dumminy who must open with Jayasuria, Dwayne Bravo, Harbhajan, Abhishekh Nayyar and Zaheer; it will be difficult to shackle this side. But cricket is a game of glorious uncertainty. So long as this side is led by the master batsmen, the incomparable, Great Sachin, there are chances that this team promises to reach the final. Moreover I am an Indian and then a Mumbaikar and therefore will root for this team.

Having said that, my patriotism compels me to watch the election results and from June 5, devoutly watch Dhoni’s boy defend the second T-20 world cup in England. One thing is certain, that 59 matches of IPL-2 will satiate the fans and significantly reveal some specialist T20 players who would make their debut in the second ICC T20 world cup.

If the pitches and weather is conducive, then IPL Carnival certainly promises Chaos, Crowd, Celebrities, Cheer girls with all their Curves, Contours and Cleavage, and yes Cricket. Peter Roebuck is correct when he says, “Cricket survives not because it has merit but because it has a market.” And with all these paraphernalia on offer, wouldn’t IPL-2 expand this market?
Until then, enjoy this African Safari!...

General Election 09 – Politics, Pejoratives and Populism !...

The world's largest democracy goes to elections starting April 16. The 15th Lok Sabha elections will be held in five phases and the results will be announced on May 16. For the first time 40% of India’s population, Generation Y (below 25 years) will avail their adult franchise. The demographics have already resulted in changes in political campaigns. Major political parties have appointed PR agencies to attract youth. Lessons have been drawn from Obama’s campaign and the young are targeted through internet blogs and sms.

Considering that more than 60% of India is employed in unorganized sector, no political party has been able to devise concrete measures to uplift 1/3rd of our population living below poverty line and arrest unemployment. We are still clueless on procedures to revive economy, curb terrorism, improve security, reduce fiscal deficit, arrest inflation, and develop an effective foreign policy.

Perhaps it’s worthwhile using the comical oxymoron - Moderate Taliban. But unfortunately, political parties will never do away with Machiavelli’s wisdom on religion and moral -, “as an instrument to be used to his advantage by the intelligent ruler". Under ideal conditions the dichotomy between psychological phenomena of religion and the social phenomena of politics should render them as separate entity. Hopefully the youth will bring this change. Regardless of all differences and political pejoratives, we continue to remain a tolerant society and that is the reason why our democracy prevails.

The days of getting absolute majority are history. The comparison of the manifestos of the two main parties - BJP and Congress yields some interesting results. When it comes to infrastructure, the BJP manifesto is emphasizing on building more roads connecting all villages; while the Congress manifesto is promising a broadband connection to every village. In an ideal situation, the voters should get both. The election speeches are filled with pejoratives, the pen has been replaced by shoes and votes with cash. The Congress selected “Jai Ho” as their campaign song and BJP counters it by “Bhay Ho”.

Both UPA and NDA are aware that it will be difficult to form a government without the support from the cow belt region. Often politics make strange bedfellows. Lalu Prasad Yadav (RJD), Mulayam Singh Yadav (SP), and Ram Vilas Paswan (LJP) have combined forces. They face a stiff opposition from Mayawati (BSP) and from Nitish Kumar in Bihar. The CPI - (M), its antagonism against the nuclear deal and US has weakened their position in their traditional strong holds - West Bengal and Kerala.

The emergence of regional parties coupled with their avarice and aspirations have led to the formation of third and fourth front. These alliances fail to project consistent, coherent, transparent and realistic political manifestos. Alliances are inevitable but they are successful only when political parties display some trust, sagacity and sacrifice. But doesn’t that hold true for any relationship?

Congress has refrained from having any overt pre-poll alliances and aspires to win single handedly. The battle between Gandhi V/s Gandhi looks whimsical. Rahul Gandhi’s strategy to lure the rural mass by dynastic appeals seems ludicrous but worth experimenting. The urban educated mass would never fall prey to any such dynastic patronage. BJP is struggling to gain acceptance but they will gain more seats in Karnataka and Gujarat. However Varun Gandhi’s acerbic speeches would certainly haunt them.

The participation of educated professionals heralds a new era in Indian politics. Only time will tell whether these candidates win or save their deposits. Every constituency has minimum four candidates in fray. No wonder the bookers and psephologists have tough time prognosticating the winner. Moreover the expanding contours of electoral constituencies will pose challenge to many popular leaders.

Mayawati in North, Jailalita and Chandrababu in south, Navin Patnaik in north-east and Sharad Pawar in west would be the probable king makers. It is difficult to guess who will be the next Prime Minister and Deputy Prime Minister.

Granting statehood to the Telangana (Andhra Pradesh) which accounts for 15 seats has become a key election issue. In a hung Parliament these 15 seats could be decisive. Hence the rush by all political parties to give Indian its 29th State. Ironically India's 714 million voters will have no choice but to elect their 543 representatives based mainly on smaller local and regional issues, rather than big national ones.

The best thing about this election 2009 is the usage of photo electoral rolls in the whole country with the exception of Assam, Nagaland, and Jammu and Kashmir. Hopefully this will bring in greater transparency, prevent impersonation and bogus voting.

One TV channel predicts UPA to have slight lead while other channels predicts the same for NDA. It seems the fate of general election will also be based on perennial issues of caste, corruption, class, religion, money, free rice, exorbitant subsidies and defunct populism. Lessons must be drawn from Jammu & Kashmir election results which symbolize the importance of having two major parties and the belief in democracy.

But what remains to be seen is which alliance receives the President’s invitation to form government and how many months will this fractured government last! This is just the semi-final. The final will be perhaps in another two years!

Until then, let’s use our right of adult franchise and select a government based on national issues and not local issues.

Konkan Sojourn - Sand, Sea, Stars, Spirituality and Some Solace !...

Day 1 - Amorous Escapade

The peregrination to Konkan was eagerly awaited. The itinerary to Kudal and Goa was meticulously planned by my father in law and since he frequently visits Konkan, we weren’t worried about the logistics. My in-laws were little tense; they had organized a religious Pooja at Lord Purshottam’s (their family deity) temple at Parule, Kudal. But they were equally elated as their two daughters - Sonali and Vrushali along with their better half (Anand and me) were accompanying them for a short holiday.

I am not devoutly religious and since all religions are pearls of the same string, I considered this short tour as a much required holiday. Visiting temples, different shrines promised me of interesting perspective about the history of the place, and a glimpse into some unbelievable architecture of various eras. Moreover, the gorgeous region of Konkan with its pristine coastline and rapturous hilly ranges of Shayadri assured enchanting holidays.

We boarded the Konkan Kanya express from Thane around 23:45 hours. The train was on time. The 3-tier AC compartment was bereft of rubbish, floating vomit, and instead had well dressed staff selling packed food and beverages. I quickly perched on the topmost berth reading Rahul Bhattacharya’s interesting book Pundits from Pakistan. The berth seem to receive abundant carbon dioxide, unintentionally blown by passengers on lower berth. I felt uneasy, suffocated and quickly rushed towards the door. The air outside was fresh and playfully caressed my hair.

The train gathers speed, jumps on the fishplates, the metal clinks making your body rock with its rhythms. Before you blink, every object flickers and disappears in oblivion. The concrete abutments of the tunnels looked claustrophobic and the electric poles outside, eager to steal a kiss. The train gradually ascends and quickly descends over the different contours. The light from the train makes it possible to see the train pass through tunnels, forests and fields. The tracks conveniently bent, push the bogeys away from the line of tracks and present a stunning silhouette of train.

The horizon seems within grasp and above hundreds of stars shine brightly, hovering like little lamps. The stars move in clusters, often alone and so does the train and earth, creating a greater parallax. Carl Sagan’s words echoes, “Every star may be a Sun to someone. Certain stars rise just before or set just after the Sun – and at times and positions that vary with the seasons.” In Mumbai, where the sky is typically sombrous, hazed with petrol and industrial pollution, seldom do we witness such celestial spectacles.

I was feeling sleepy; it was Sunday 04:45 a.m. The train forcefully jerked out of Kankavali station and I was awake. It was 7: 30 a.m., in next one hour we will disembark and hop into a waiting SUMO, hired to take us around Konkan, but first to our hotel.

Cont…..Day 2

Day 2 - Gori Tera Gaon Bada Pyaraa...

The air in Kudal was warm, refreshing and nostalgic. Kudal is one of the oldest settlements, further south of Ratnagiri and 3 hours away from Goa. Anand and Sonali had flown from Bangalore via Goa and checked in the hotel around 11 a.m. Soon we commenced our journey to Wayangani, (Vrushali’s native place), an hour away from Kudal. We reached Wayangani and visited a shrine near my in-laws ancestral house. The temple was built in memory of a certain Swami who had renounced his life, decades ago at the same place. The small temple is well maintained and has two sections. The outer area comfortably accommodates 10-15 devotees, the area inside has the footprints of reverend Swami engraved on marble tile, bedecked with flowers and surrounded with small oil lamps. Near the temple were several mango, jambhul and jack fruits trees protecting us from the blazing mid-afternoon sun, their shade symbolizing hope, relief and for city dwellers - a sight for sore eyes!

From Wayangani, we proceeded to Malvan. The road is laid with fresh bitumen and surrounded on either side by sign posts, electric poles, milestones and trees. Throughout the journey, the sun played hide and seek with the trees. Every now and then we passed through small settlements. Tulsi plant stood tall in beautiful vrindavan against traditional red laterite (Jambha) stone house with thatched sloping roofs. The porch looked clean, its flooring, a mixture of mud, sand and dried cow dung. In some places, gaudily painted concrete bungalows cropped up.

In the plantations behind, men toiled, while women flocked near the well. Women were draped in sarees, the length of fabric (6 or 9 yards) defining their modernity and age. The ladies adorned beautiful gajra (garland) made from jasmine or other flowers in their braided hair. The older women prefer “Veni” (a semi-circle shaped, closely knit garland made with flowers and petals). Their long tresses, delicately rolled behind, and on the top of this roll; the Veni is hinged with specially made ‘U’ shaped hair pins. People are devout, literate, and modest but their resilience and spirit indomitable. Dogs barked while cows and goats grazed lazily. The fields slumbered in light green and stretched till brown horizon, their flatness broken by laterite contours and dusty path.

We reached Malvan and rushed to Hotel Chaitanya, a well known restaurant in town. A treat on typical Malvani fish curry and solkadhi (concoction made of kokum and coconut milk) was eagerly awaited. The restaurant was full and we waited till what seemed like eternity. Once inside the air-conditioned section, we gormandize on kingfish, pomfret, prawns and other culinary treats.

The hotel is cleverly constructed. It houses a small, beautiful well inside the air conditioned section. The well reminded me of my late paternal granny and the big well located in the compound of her house in Borivali (Babhai area). In those days, Borivali west had dense trees and limited houses. As a child, I would not miss a single opportunity to run near a big well and watch the tadpoles and fish in the well. The green water surrounded by trees gave me peace. I would look down, throw pebbles, hear the splash and enjoy the turbulent concentric circles. Often I would scream and my voice would echo. In a minute my granny and the entire locality would be on their feet to catch me and for the next few hours I would remain under house arrest.

Cont…

Afternoon – Tarkarli, Symphony of the Sea & Venus

After our fabulous lunch, we visited Malvan jetty. The magnificent Sindhudurg (Ocean fort) built in 1664 by Chattrapati Shivaji on an island was not far. The fort is built with tonnes of iron and the foundation stones are laid down firmly in lead. But we were lazy and decided to skip visiting the fort, and proceeded to Tarkarli – 8 kms from Malvan.

On our way, we visited the local Ganesh Temple at Meda built by Jayant Salgaonkar –editor of Kalnirnaya magazine. The architecture of the temple painted in white is remarkably striking. The Deep-stambh (tower for lamps), reminiscent of temples in south of Vindhyas, interspersed with white and red square is massive and fabulous. At the entrance, two huge statutes of elephants greet devotees. The shining Lord Ganesh idol made of gold is mesmerizing. The circular overhead ceiling, covered by a dome is painted in red and within it small light blue coloured statues of Ganesha are entrenched on all sides.

We reached Tarkarli which has a lovely estuary and a ride in the boat is not to be missed. There are several resorts and MTDC even has its own boat house. There are many private boats. These motor boats are equipped with 8-10 plastic chairs, covered with make shift cloth roof but life vests. Unlike Alleypee, the back water at Malvan is fresh, clean, devoid of foul odour and reefs. The boat takes you through the calm water, surrounded on either sides with palm groves and mango trees. From the boat, Devbaugh village looks small, further down is the pristine Devbaugh beach, on the left is a small hill and below is the serene Bhogwe beach. You soon reach a point where the river meets the sea and the boat encounters some resistance.

The deep sea is utterly unpredictable, beguiling, bewitching and dangerous. The boat gently enters the choppy Arabian Sea and suddenly you are on a giant see-saw. You sit tight, mutter some prayers and quickly hold on to your breath, nerves and the railings. Quixotically the engine overpowers, the rudder spins and the boat enters the deep sea. A spectacular light house is seen in south– west and a massive boulder aims for the sky in north-west. The Sun at 45 degrees is majestically smiling. The water glistens as the sparkling golden bed sheet stretches from the horizon and touches our boat.

Suddenly, the boat man sees some movement, and turns the boat towards Devbaugh beach. You see flock of sea gulls, squeaking, flapping their wings. A young Jonathon Livingstone is enjoying its flight of fancy. Soon you hear a noise; a small fountain erupts in sea and before you turn, it disappears. The fountain erupts again, this time little further and in the next instance, a beautiful dolphin jumps with joy. It is joined by his/her playmate and together they jump, swim, jump, swim and hide.

”Look, there are more”. You swirl and another group of Dolphins emerge, enjoying their freedom. The abyss is transparent and a group of small local fish (Tarli) touches our boat, treading fearlessly in the direction of dolphins, ready to feast. Normally the dolphins are seen in the morning but we were fortunate to see them playing in the late afternoon (around 4: 30 p.m.).

It was more than an hour; we were still observing different marine lives and the topography. The waves became stronger. Our boat turned but not before stopping at a small Tsunami island formed by a large mass of firm sand. According to locals, the island emerged when tsunami hit the Indian Ocean. Anand and I couldn’t resist; we quickly dived into the clear saline water and swam till our legs ached.

It was past 6:30 p.m. The birds stopped their chirping and the crickets began to sing in synchrony. Driving down the picturesque Malvan – Vengurla Sea facing road, the sun submerged with its resplendent ochres, orange, browns and indigos. In the darkness, we missed the view from Karli Bridge - the enchanting confluence of the Karli River meeting Karli creek that flows into the sea. The water banks here are covered with verdant forest, reminiscent of Kerala. I remembered seeing it many years ago.

The stars waltz and in the south west, the greatest dichotomy in our solar system emerged. Venus with its faint yellowish clouds was perched over the hill. Anand and I got engrossed in talking about Venus and our solar system. A pleasant breeze tangoed with the hill and on Venus the surface boiled with vapors and clouds made of concentric H2SO4 (Sulphuric acid) and 96 % of atmosphere made of CO2 (Carbon Dioxide). Unlike other planets, Venus moved in opposite direction making the sun rise in west and set in east. Isn’t it surprising that Venus is considered as God of Love when actually it is nothing less than a catastrophe.

On our return journey we stopped briefly at Dhombi Math a place where young boys are trained to become priest. My reluctance to visit another religious site on a wonderful evening was conspicuous and conveniently ignored. This place has a wonderful architecture and temple reverberated with Vedic chants of shlokas from these young priests. I spend more time outside with Venus and the other stars, who would accompany me to the Adinarayan Temple at Parule. Boy was I glad, the temple was closed.

Cont...

Day 3 - Banana Leaf & Spiritual Odyssey

The puja was scheduled on the auspicious day of Mahashivaratri at Lord Purshottam Temple in Parule village – 45 minutes from Kudal. According to Hindu mythology, Shivaratri or ’Shiva’s Great Night’ symbolises the wedding day of Lord Shiva and Parvati. Many also believe that Shivaratri is the night when Lord Shiva performed the Tandava Nritya - the dance of primordial creation, preservation and destruction. The temples in Konkan region organize fair (Jatra) on Mahashivratri and the festivities continue for 10 days. This was my maiden visit to any such jatra.

The SUMO hopped as it ascended a small hillock. Once atop, we could see a small valley engulfed with creepers, plantation and a stream running through it. Inside the valley stood a fabulous temple renovated with paint and tiles. Behind the temple were houses and the serene village of Parule. Typically in India, most temples require devotees to climb mountains and stairs. But here it was different and so is the Kamakshi Temple at Shiroda – Ponda, Goa. You descend the newly made concrete stairs that connects the valley and hilltop. You enter the temple precincts, the sound of dried leaves and twigs falling in the running stream appear melodious.

Inside the temple was a mélange of people in colourful clothes. The air smelt of divinity and a keertan (devotional story telling session accompanied with music and singing) was about to commence. It was pleasing to hear the interpretation of some Sanskrit couplets but that joy was short lived. Anand and I were asked to join the priest and perform the pooja. We were soon engrossed in worshipping and appeasing the Almighty with prayers, flowers, leaf, oil lamps and invoking his blessings.

Sitting down amongst rows of people and eating lunch being served by local villagers was absolute bliss. Eating from banana leaf is altogether a different and pleasurable experience. The fingers touch the silky leaf, the curries run in all directions; you desperately try and stop it from mixing with pickle, salads and chutney garnished with coconut and green chillies.

It was too early to taste the king of fruits, Alphonso Mango, jack fruit, purple jamun and such other fruits. Throughout the day cashewnuts, Aambaa (Mango) Poli, Jack fruit (Phanas) Poli, Kokum (sour fruit) and Aawla Syrup, Aawla supari were delightfully gormandized.

By 4 p.m. we were back to Kudal resting in our hotel room. That evening we had dinner at a local mess run by local residents. The food served at these places is fresh, hygienic, authentic and the prices very reasonable. The ladies cook in their home while the men take orders and serve food; the patrons sit outside in specially made eating area. The spices- cinnamon, turmeric, cloves, poppy seeds, peppercorns, ginger, cumin, garlic, onion, green chillies, kokum, raw mango seeds used in curry added to the flavour. The vegetables are prepared with grated coconut and seasoned with onion, ginger and garlic.

If the Bengalis delight on the 2 feet long Rui fish, then Mangloreans, Karwari’s, Goans, Konkani’s and Mumbaikars thrive on much longer Surmai (King Fish). And in Konkan and Goa, the king fish is available in abundance and so are the other fish – white and black pomfret, mackerel, sardine, salmon, mullet, skate, crab, prawns and lobsters. The food in Konkan and Goa is delightfully rich, tasty and finger smacking.

Cont…

Day 4 - Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo !

Anand and Sonali were leaving for Banglore via Goa. Vrushali and I joined them for we had planned to visit the Kamakshi Temple at Shiroda – Ponda, Goa. On our way to Goa, we passed through Sawantwadi a place where royalty ruled. Later we passed, ‘Kolgaon’ a small village which gave my ancestors our family name. Soon the lullaby wind had me dozing only to wake me up at Mapsua in Goa. In another 30 minutes we will reach Panjim.

Panjim was hot and humid, interspersed with the dull recessionary air and the rapidly declining international tourism. From there we hired a cab and travelled to south Goa. We reached the temple, offered our prayers and quickly returned to Panjim before 3 p.m. The famous Ritz Classic at Panjim closes at 3 p.m. This is one of the best places where you can enjoy a chilled beer and authentic Goan fish. The other one is Martin’s corner in south Goa. As usual Ritz was crowded with tourist, locals and nearby office staff. In few minutes, we managed to get a nice cosy place and ordered our routine fish thali (plate). Apart from getting fresh, delicious and large portion of fish, you are also served with different varieties of fish and curries in small quantities. Unfortunately we didn’t have time to relish pork sarpotal, chicken xacutti and the famous delectable Goan dessert - Bibinca a sweet cake baked from the mixture of flour, jaggery and eggs. We were on our way back to Kudal.

The next day our train will depart to Mumbai and we will join the rigmarole of office grind. By the time we reached our hotel, the stars had begun to gather. There was silence in the air.

The stars smiled and reminded me of the Farida Khanum’s immortal ghazal,

Waqt ki qaid mein, zindagi hai magar (2)
Chand ghadiyan yehi hain, jo aazad hain (2)
Inko khokar, mere jaan-e-jaan
Umr bhar, na taraste raho
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to loot jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo

Gran Torino – Muscle Movie

Just like wine, an actor’s performance also matures with age. If you disagree, look at the performance of veteran actors, Meryl Streep, Naseeruddin Shah, Om Puri and more so of legendary Clint Eastwood in his film ‘Gran Torino’. For more than two decades, these actors have consistently breathed life in every character and continue to do so, with same verve and vigour. Now isn’t, Old is gold!

At 78, Clint Eastwood is incredible, as he reticently coughs and breathes life into the role with ease, effervescence, and growls like any other erratic senior citizen. The laconic ‘Man with no name’ prefers to be known as Walt Kowalski, acts tough like ‘Dirty Harry’ and again finds himself ‘in the line of fire’.

Gran Torino tells the story of Walt Kowalski – a former War veteran and an auto worker at Ford. The first scene in the church, cleverly presents the tortured state of Walt, an atheist, bereaving the loss of his wife and spitting venom at the young pontiff, Father Janovich (Christopher Carley). The white Americans move out and south Asians flock the neighbourhood. His son’s coerce Walt to relocate but he resents and instead stays with his Labrador Daisy guzzling cheap beer.

The film moves slowly matching Clint’s hands, delicately cleaning and polishing his pristine 1972 Gran Torino car, perennially kept in the garage. Walt is despicable as racist, holds grievances against Asians and mutters nothing but profanities. The Hmong family moves next door, their teenage son Thao (Bee Vang) is tormented and bullied by a local Hmong gang. Thao tries to steal Walt’s Gran Torino and narrowly escapes death but redemption. Meanwhile Thao’s loquacious sister Sue (the beautiful Ahney Her) befriends Walt, ends his soliloquy and provides him Asian delicacies. Walt now has a new purpose in life and to the priest’s ecstasy, makes a confession for the first time. Walt helps Thao with a job and in the process incurs the wrath of the Hmong gang. He exudes confidence of an outlaw, transforms his ugly views, bad thoughts and becomes a Good protector.

Dave Johannson and Nick Schenk story with Schenk’s screenplay presents an intriguing, surreal drama with several moments of tensions, acerbic racist slurs and an utterly unimaginable, unpredictable climax. With his short sleeves, wrinkled hands, languorous gait and acute stubbornness, Clint is outstanding as Walt. Bee Vang and Ahney Her are brilliant and look promising.

Clint Eastwood’s direction is splendid, simple with amazing scenes and brilliant camera movements. Tom Stern’s photography wonderfully captures the melancholy, through Walt’s growls, empty Detroit streets, unsuccessful automotive Gran Torino and the modern Japanese cars. Joel Cox and Gary D. Roach’s editing keeps you glued while Kyle Eastwood and Michael Stevens music adds various emotions. The locations coupled with old American and modern house vividly present James J. Murakami production designs. Clint Eastwood, Robert Lorenz and Bill Gerber display enormous courage to produce a film that perspicaciously depicts bitter realities of life.

Gran Torino is riveting with emotions, angst, realism and some humour. Ironically Clint missed his first Oscar for acting but don’t miss this film for Clint’s supposedly final film as an actor.

The Reader – A Poignant Revelation !...

You enjoy watching the amorous eroticism between Kate Winslet and David Kross in ‘The Reader’ and wonder, why such encounters never happened in your teenage life. But in an hour, you comprehend - brief ecstasies inevitably results in exasperation and sorrow.

The Reader is a profound, clandestine love story about a young 15 year, Michael Berg (David Kross) and his girl friend Hanna Schmitz (Kate Winslet) who is twice his age. The film begins with Michael (Ralph Fiennes) a father, lawyer and now a divorcee, remembering his past. Hanna cajoles young Michael to read to her before they make love. She enjoys Homer, Chekhov but finds Lady Chatterley’s Lover disgusting. As the affair progresses the two develop intense feelings for each other. But like most love stories, Hanna jilts Michael. After several years, Michael meets Hanna, becomes aloof and distraught after learning her past and realizing her secret.

The story is based on the best-selling novel ‘Die Vorleser’ by Bernhard Schlink, translated in English by Carol Brown Janeway. The film is divided into three sections and moves between the present and the past. It is set in post-war Germany, against the backdrop of restoration work, Auschwitz trials, and in Berlin-1995. The film succinctly portrays the drama that unfolds between Michael and Hanna at each stage.

Kate bares her skin, soul and spirit but guards her secret to commit social solecism. She surreptitiously seduces, tones down her British accent but inadvertently pronounces ‘Siemens’ with “S’’ and not ‘’Z” like the Bravarians. David Cross is promising and his performance remarkably evocative. Ralph Fiennes displays a superlative feat and deserves laurels.

Chris Menges and Roger Deakins photography is surreal. David Hare’s screen play is a revelation. The cinematographer stunningly reconstructs Germany in all its colours and seasons. The lights and sets, bolster the narrative and takes you to a different era.

Claire Simpson’s brilliant editing avoids the Indian censor’s shears. It is precise, objective and carefully allows the film to oscillate through the bedroom, books, and different sets. The camera moves along with the actors. Hanna’s uniform, the mirror image and tram, provides a sneak preview into her personality and diligence. The close ups and over the shoulders shots delicately reflects the characters predicament while the wide angles, unfolds a splendid panorama. Nico Muhly’s music and sound, reverberates different sentiments. Late Sydney Pollack and his co –producers Anthony Minghella, Donna Gigliotti and Redmond Morris couldn’t have asked for more.

Although the film appears as the story of sexual initiation and attraction for an enigmatic older woman but it actually presents an incisive insight of those involved in the atrocities of the Second World War. The dialogues incisively interrogate and inveigle, not just the actors but also the viewers. The conversation between Michael and Lena Olin, Auschwitz survivor and prime witness at Hanna’s trial, is sharp and acerbic. The courtroom drama and the ensuing deliberation with his Professor, explores the spiritual debasement that the holocaust engendered in a generation of people who might in other circumstances be entirely decent.

Stephen Daldry’s spectacular direction provides an internal glimpse to the character’s helplessness, shame, anger and their tortured state. The director expertly captures Michael’s conflict with his father and Hanna. Some scenes distinctly stand out. The eyes express and are seen to be believed. You stir, when Hanna boldly asks the judge, “What would you have done?” When Ralph Fiennes pleadingly seeks atonement, you understand pain, guilt and redemption through his eyes. You leave the theatre in silence but several scenes keep piercing your mind but let me not reveal the suspense.

The Reader makes you forget the outside world. Indeed an engrossing, sensitive, memorable film which will stay in your memory for long.

Cowardly attacks on brave, innocent Cricketers ….

The gruesome attack on innocent Sri Lankan cricket team and on the brave security officers is indeed tragic and must be censured by everybody, including those who follow or do not follow or like Cricket.

The impact of terrorism should not be measured in the number of its victims but in its attempts to upset economic, political systems, destabilize democratic societies, and in creating a climate of fear and a sense of powerlessness.

C.L.R. James in his epic book, Beyond a Boundary has rightly said that ‘Cricket is an Art’ and the game has profoundly helped in establishing national culture and influenced social, political change in Cricket playing nations.

Come to think of, doesn’t Cricket unite People amidst the chaos of religion, caste, beliefs, social status, etc, but ironically Cricket and political administrators in Pakistan are determined to disintegrate the fabric of this sport and tarnish their glorious history. It is therefore ridiculous to expect that Cricket would not be affected by the contradictions facing Pakistan. Weren’t the Champions trophy and other tours cancelled by western countries and India, for more than a year, for security reasons?

Sport is an antithesis of terrorism but unless Pakistan abolishes feudalism and precludes its government and army from colluding, either overtly or covertly with fundamentalist and nefarious groups, terrorism will cease to exist in Pakistan. Now is the time for its civic society to get together and prevent its country from being a safe haven to terrorist and rapidly becoming an anarchic society.

It will be a while before international cricket returns to Pakistan or even at neutral venues. Undoubtedly, Pakistan will loose the honour to co-host the 2011 ICC World Cup.

Hopefully better sense will prevail and Pakistan cricket and sports teams will not be ostracized and loose their place in world cricket. Cricket and sport will never be defeated by cowards. Sports did not loose after Munich Olympics and it shouldn’t after today’s heinous incident.

Indeed a sad day in the history of sports and world cricket and my sympathies with Sri Lankan team and with the families and friends of the brave security men.

My thoughts are also with the Pakistani cricketers for they are not to be blamed. Let us not condemn their cricket team.