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Bazaar – Bizarre Market

Certainly not ‘Wolf of Wall Street’, but tries to come close. Share market, ‘Bullish’ vibes, the inevitable passion to brutally excel in what you play for and deny the eventual – these are traits for the ones who dare to enter this playground with balls aplenty.

‘Bazaar’ falters in the last 30 minutes or so, but still remains watchable till the penultimate frame. It brings back Saif Ali Khan to do what he does best – remain subtle, hold on to his natural histrionics and act. Which he does impressively, and it solely remains to be his film. I seriously think he should stop doing those baseless Rom-Coms, which looks so jaded and irrelevant to our times. He has much more left in him as long as we have scripts with meat.

Watch it for Saif, his plot and others.

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Blackmail – Vengeance is Inside

When does a person blackmail another person?

When he realises that he is being screwed upright behind his back and still expected to believe that things are hunky dory between the mundane episodes of life.

Well, that’s exactly the plot here. What you are bracing for is an entertaining series of encounters and the fetish yet evil face of human adversity. One follows another, a vicious circle develops and ends up destroying each of their lives. Well, you can argue if they ever had one.

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A Seer’s Rage – Episode 2

Madhu grew up in a land of priests and religious fanaticism. Not surprisingly, his thought process was quite inclined towards his Father’s during his younger days. But as days went by and he grew older, time and education taught him a wider aspect of his faltering childhood.

Close to his mother but in awe of his father. Madhu’s situation was quite disturbing and precarious. But he was a kind, noble and compassionate person. Perhaps, his roots have him given him the foundation he needed.

Madhu does see himself as the son of the Patriarch but doesn’t essentially see him in his Father’s shoes. In fact, Literature fascinates Madhu ever since his school days and now as he confronts his end-of-school days, he is quite convinced not to pursue his Father’s legacy against his unsurpassable wish to get his degree in Literature.

Madhu’s inclination towards Literature comes from his Mother. A school teacher in Banaras Christian Community School before she got married, Madhu’s mother was also adept in writing short stories for few small publications in the town. Yes, she quit long back but Madhu has inherited his mother’s talent.

He plans to inform his father about his plans though he is equally crumbled under fear to talk about his proposition with his Father. On the other hand, his mother is on his side and encourages him to do what he wants.

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சர்வம் தாளமயம் – Refreshingly Rythmic

I have not watched a musical for a long time now. They don’t make classic musicals any more.

But ‘சர்வம் தாளமயம்’ bought back poignant moments in a musical journey which stands out as simple, light hearted and make-you-feel-good drama with an outstanding soundtrack, which in many ways describes A R Rahman – The Master Composer.

Carnatic Music with a blend of vocal magic and art of percussion instruments. I love the semblance of anything which is connected to our roots, and this is just so apt.

Thank you Rajiv Menon, for giving us a glimpse of the ‘Mozart of Madras’, just like old days.

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A Seer’s Rage – Episode 1

A land of spiritual resurgence. We need messiahs, someone who can turn this world upside down, in the right way. Not a torch bearer, but we need tools for sustenance.

Madhuprayan George Roy was born in Banaras, India to a Hindu Father and Catholic Mother. His father belonged to an ancestral Priest family and one of the oldest patriarch in the city of Banaras. Not surprisingly, an orthodox family with strong spiritual roots and a legacy that takes you back to 18th century, Madhu (as he was fondly called by his parents and friends), had a conventional and often, difficult childhood.

Being bought up in a situation of ‘Priesthood’ isn’t easy. His father was a staunch, god fearing priest in one of the oldest temples in Banaras. Quote obviously and inevitable, hugely respected across the religious circles, in and around Banaras. This made things even more difficult for Madhu. He was scared to talk to his father.

Madhu’s father was a good man but his approach towards his son was whimsical. He was a responsible father but not a doting one. His position in the town made him almost invincible to others and untenable to his son. This was not going down very well with Madhu.

His mother, though equally conventional and a devoted Catholic, was a compassionate and caring mother to Madhu. Madhu was very close to her and the fact that his parents got married in a twist of fate also meant that he was more emotionally inclined to his mother than his father. His mother understood Madhu’s dilemma but was equally intimidated by her husband’s position in the realms of Banaras. She was not scared of her influential husband but had her own reasons to adopt submission.

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Colours of 2018

As I bid goodbye to this year (few hours to go), I would like to remember the year with a sense of mixed emotions.

I enjoyed embracing the usual suspects of life – Instability, greasy starts, disappointments, progressive altar, some wonderful moments with family, watching my son grow another year older, seeing ourselves evolving as parents (my wife is a better parent by all means), and the everlasting hopes of the next year bettering its predecessor.

I am done with words, let’s see my 2018 through these pictures which obviously are far more expressive, more fascinating and much more refined than my quintessential words.

Happy New Year fellas! Cheers.

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The Story of Love

Love isn’t your essentials today, it’s a feeling of abounds and benefits, especially with our generation. We don’t believe in classics, our roots are more inclined towards lust and insatiable components (sex is one of them).

Just hold on before you judge me. I am not an anti-love person. In fact, I am a great believer in love per se. But, love isn’t the most sweetest, isn’t the most glorious and isn’t the most vivacious emotion in your life, as it is famously depicted and air-played in our lives. I am not counting the success stories yet, but failures have had a greater impact in my life.

Great, legendary stories of live are the ones that failed miserably and were considered ‘forbidden’ in the legacy of a society. Reasons could be plenty, but what it does prove is that love equally vulnerable to the whims and fancies of the kind of world we live and breathe in. That’s why, failures matter. Such admonishment throws a jinx around which propels people to believe that they might succeed if they do things differently. But, a game to dismantle cannot establish the torrid affairs of human inconsistencies. Human beings are naive, weak and just cannot cope with this battle between love and it’s adjacent factors of ‘status quo’.

As we are generally made to believe and as infamously displayed over by the media and our own unscrupulous society, Love isn’t the indispensable ‘Jesus’ of our times. In fact, quite the opposite. If there is a punching bag for the critics, then it has to be’Love’. Though ‘Love’ claims to be unanimously unbiased, devoid of prejudices, caste, creed and religion, languages and cultures, it remains to been seen if ‘Love’ could come out of its impoverished reputation.

Love has allies – Sex, lust, brood, jealousy, money, power… The list might seem endless as long as you are willing to accept the fact that love is beyond the borders of invincibility, quite tenable, brittle and devastatingly broken between man and his heart. Heart still beats, but love continues to fade away amidst evil tentacles that surrounds our dispensable lives.

Fall in love, but don’t fall for the perils associated with this divine and absolutely torrid encounters. You can give up your heart but life is another game for a different latitude to play around. Not for this one, if I am to be asked.

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8

8 is a magical number. No, it’s not my favourite number by any chance of a jitter but it sure is furiously sane for Quentin Tarantino and his rustic yet brilliant and audacious script writing. 8 is just not a number from his classroom, it ushers his school of filmmaking in a way nobody else can.

As people, as individuals, we have stopped talking to each other. We have stopped having conversations in life, we don’t introspect our inner devils and we remain submerged in a world of sin without admitting that we are grossly guilty. Tarantino’s films are about conversations of life. His characters are evil and disdainful, yet so human, besieged of war, hatred, passion and what they call, ‘a diabolical bitch’. Son of a Gun, it is so ‘Tarantino’ when I say it this way.

Be it the smell of vengeance, the unceremonious hatred for the Nazis, the evil ideologies of slavery, the whims and ways of a mercurial gangster in a gang of equally super crazy, mad inhabitants or the way each of his characters infuse excruciating expressions that define the myriad ethos that our lives remain stitched in. – Tarantino is undoubtedly the Master of ‘Neo Noir’ and his ever dispensable characters.

Tarantino and few of his actors bond like ‘holy mother fuckers’ who last for a lifetime. Samuel Jackson is born to act with Tarantino and then die one day, Michael Madsen is an icon in his style of filmmaking, Christoph Waltz gave us his most inspiring and menacing performances with Tarantino and Leonardo DiCaprio was a fine revelation in Tarantino’s supremely crafted piece of work since ‘Pulp Fiction’. Not to forgot, Uma Thurman in her marauding avatar of a revenge machine in the ‘Kill Bill’ saga.

Invariably, the million dollar question is not ‘What’s next’. It’s the ‘How’ that keeps me hooked and stoned to Quentin Tarantino.

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Magic of W

Another Wimbledon final, another magic on grass court. Wimbledon always takes me down the memory lane. Doesn’t matter who wins, but watching players sweating it out in this 2 week juggernaut is nothing short of a spectacle.

Wimbledon has been special ever since my younger days. I remember watching each of the high voltage matches with the utmost of attention and detail, not to forget the post match conferences and match analysis. I had numbers on my finger tips and exactly knew who won and who got knocked out! Yes, those were the days of unblemished joy, where you could just do what you wanted to. Yes, you had those interruptions but we’re largely positive.

Coming back to grass court in Wimbledon. I have seen too many greats playing the game in the last 20 years. But ‘Pistol’ Pete was arguably the greatest. And since my younger days and his rise to the prime collided with each other, he was my hero. And during the nineties, he was almost invincible. Some great rivalries with Andre Agassi, Pat Rafter, Jim Courier and Goran Ivanisevic, bit class of Sampras stood out. The only blip in his astounding career was the French Open that eluded him, but he was the Jesus of Tennis for me at that time. Roger Federer, another modern great, was able to overcome this and perhaps he was also one of those grass court champions who was able to break in to the arena of clay. Yes, Rafa belongs to another planet and his range is unmatched, and it is not surprising that their rivalry is one of the finest this sport has ever witnessed.

I have watched the recording of Boris Becker lifting the coveted trophy in 1985, and he remains a favorite too (incidentally, one of the commentators in today’s final). I loved Stefan Edberg as well, in fact, I adore the era of serve-and-volley players. Borg, McEnroe.. I love watching them play even today though the game and the landscape has changed immensely. Power has taken over elegance, tenacity remains the key though.

I have very little of Andy Murray and Novak Djokovich, but they are specials talents for sure as I managed to take sneak peek in to the Wimbledon finals in the last couple of years and they sure are in the right direction of becoming modern greats.

Another final in the Centre Court has come to a close and till next year, I wait for the most celebrated Grand Slam to come knocking again.

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Ae Watan..

‘Raazi’ is one of those films that will get glued to your soul for sometime after you come out of theatres. May be, much beyond the streets, your neighbourhood and your living room.

Emotions and the very bane of human existence takes a ‘U’ turn in this sizzling drama that catapults us to one of the most bravest and disgusting stories I have come to know during the notorious battle of ‘Indo-Pak’ menace.

1971 was one of the worst India ever saw. Perhaps, the most valiant and path breaking as well. Some stories will blow your mind off, some will make you cry, some will rip you apart. ‘Raazi’ is a classic culmination of these voracious confrontations, within and outside.

I really fail to understand, how we could disown someone who has been so close to dismantle a great power that threatens to destroy the very country we adore. And that too, so conveniently with a dead statement like ‘they knew what they were signing up for’. That’s ‘Intelligence’ and ‘Hypocrisy’ in the same plateau.

The meaning of war is so beautifully explained, it’s appalling and equally disposes all of us to a reality we know but refuse to accept. Men have honour but no compassion, compassion is driven by the animosity for the opposite nation, relationships are built over the foundation of betrayal, emotions are packaged to triage deceit and conspiracy. In a world that’s born out of war, we want peace between 2 twin nations who never wanted it. Rather, the fire is not from the belly, but from the political powers who are either invisible or compromised, for another one. And, the juggernaut continues.

We won 1971, but we lost our peace forever.

The soundtrack of the film will live, perhaps for eternity. Arijit crooning to ‘Ae Watan..’ makes me believe that doesn’t matter who or how, but patriotism is inert feeling and cannot be bucketed. I and you belong to different places, but we still have love and admiration for our roots. And, this promiscuous feeling cannot be modified or disputed or disrespected. The BGM by Shankar Ehsaan Loy deserves equal applause, matching the intensity of this riveting tale. On top of it, the fact that ‘Ae Watan..’ encapsulates the words of the iconic Allama Iqbal makes it such an adorable classic of our times.

Alia Bhatt is simply outstanding as Sehmat Khan. She epitomises the dilemma, helplessness and the guts of Sehmat, which in itself is a spine chilling character. Mind you, Alia Bhatt is still very young, and at such an age, what she has done with films like ‘Raazi’ and ‘Udta Punjab’ is a revelation. Alia, I am sure your Dad is a proud man.

‘Raazi’ will go down as one of the finest 2018 ever produced. Not for the innovation but for the audacity to bring something so scary and dispensable to the odour of Cinema.

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