Rains in Bangalore has been very scanty this monsoon. The city.... even though lying at an altitude hardly recieved any rains at all. Mother was complaining that the period of Shravana(according to the hindu calender) is the month of rains..... and the month of festivals.

Varamahalaksmi.... Gowri... Ganesha festivals are usually celebrated during this season. Gowri, Ganesha falls on this weekend.... following the trail led by the other declared holidays. Unfortunately.... all declared holidays fall on sundays(atleast most of them)..... which is very dissappointing. We lose out on these few days of peace.

The monsoon in India is one of it's kind...... meaning to say that no other country recieves rains as India does. The regular pattern... the period for which it lasts.... and the wind routes are pretty precise...if i could sat that. Geographical reasons are many.... The fact that India is stratagically located also is important.

Rains..... the sight of water falling from up above is such a pleasant sight. Above all... the experience of soaking oneself.... is simply magical. It is a rule that i get wet in the first monsoon showers.

Childhood was spent in reaching home wet.... with mother yelling..... running to the terrace....with cousins..... to forget the umbrella purposely... in order to get wet.... playing in puddles... splashing water everywhere...... catching clouds...

Crossing roads is always difficult..... with me at the end of the footpath.... avoiding speeding vehicles..... and the trajectories of dirty water. Standing in the crowded bus-stop....and later deciding that the drizzle is perfect for one to get wet. Waking up in the middle of the night to shut the windows....

Running to escape the sudden downpour.... to eat spicy fried food..... bondas', bhajjis'... pakoras' with a hot glass of milk.......

Some moments which i've enjoyed...

Being stared at.... while walking slowly.... while other scamper to find a shelter.

Skipping on the road.... with kids......who thought it was fun to jump across a puddle. Mind you... it is not enjoyable.... to jump the entire way.

Convincing folks at home..... that towelling the head is not neccassary. Miraculously.... i do not catch a cold.... on getting drenched. With god's grace!!

Polishing an ice-cream sundae..... while it's pouring outside. The other day... a couple of friends met at M.G. Road.... we took shelter at Lakeview.....what better than to savour an ice-cream!!

To see rain-drops pattering on a glass roof.... looks like tiny bits of crystal.....emitting brilliance.

The smell of fresh rain on soil..... Actinomycetes emitting geosmin.....awesome!! Actinomycetes is cultured in the Micro lab..... with me opening the petriplate ever so slightly to get intoxicated.

Getting lost amongst the clouds.....

Magnificent.

At last, i did post some digital art....it does take time. Anyways here's two of my works on MS -Paint.

It was done sometime in June.... during which i was experimenting a lot with black and white(watercolours). Much to the chagrin of others..... the two colours are interesting.... i never could fathom the amount of art that could be done with it...

The second.... it was an idea given to me by my art teacher. I tried it out in watercolours once again in black and white.

A friend talked about Karan Johar and Ekta Kapoor.....and their attempts on film-making on a lonely island. No....it is not about a lonely... boy...a girl story...which ends up in invariably in sex. They come up with a stroy....which will be a blockbuster.... as always wooing the offshore indians. And here it is:

First things first...... the island....should be associated with America....and Johar loves that country....always shoots his films there.

Second, it should be a multi-starrer.... simply because Kapoor loves a complicated plot....which can run over through many years...even though the meaning and the story-line is lost.

A is seen walking in New York city...... with a poker-face.....trying to find a new love. He remembers his old college classmate, B. She was his best friend.... she was the one with whom he fought and patched up everyday. A sad song..... with a depressed A....successful in making the audience shed a few tears.

B is married now..... leading a happy(?) life with her husband....somewhere in the US. How nice it was..... during those times........ a flash back.......with young A and B (both are in their mid-thirties....they hardly pass as youngsters.....never mind...it is a Johar movie)... pulling pranks on the English lecturer.

News came in that B's husband is suffering from heart disease.....and life had become difficult for the former. B performed various pujas' at all possible temples that could be located in the country..... she performed various vratas........ she asked her astrologer to check her jataka (kundali) in hindi....in vain...... a problem surfaced which was not noticed earlier. Another flashback....another song....B and her husband are seen dancing in the rain.... in India right after their marraige......and the husband flops down. B is seen crying.... screaming for help...in her wedding trousseau.... with water-proof make-up. The next moment she realises that she is dreaming...... and lo.....her wedding is still going on....she is going around the sacred fire..... or is she??

At the hospital..... B is beside her husband.....C who is recovering from a by-pass operation on his heart. He had lost his conciousness on the dance floor..... actually he was not supposed to dance...but what to do....the music was so good.... and above all.... B was with him..... how could he not make her life happy..... afterall he was her partner for life. A sings a sad song...... relating her sob story to God.

Few moments later, B is frantic...... C escaped(?) the hospital. Fast forward..... B is shown living happily with A. How nice it was...to be loved by somebody after experiencing years of loneliness. A was in a good job...earned a good sum..... took her to chic parties....where others envied the pair. How wonderful it felt when your beloved terms you as sexy everyday... irrespective of the layers of rouge....on the face.... with 6 sessions of botox treatment.

Fast forward....... B is sitting at home watching tv....... when the Indian national anthem is played. She calls her son's mobile who is college.... to respect the national anthem by standing where ever he was. The son.....D plays Romeo....in the play.....Romeo and Juliet. He is disturbed since morning....... E who plays Juliet is the daughter of C.....who he later learns is his mother's first husband. D teasing E.....and vice versa....of course ......in the form of a song. Both fancy each other....that is D and E.......who are always dressed stylishly....... irrespective of the fact that it does not suit them. Each have a large fan-following...... trying to do menial jobs for their role-model(?).

E visits D's house...... takes a look at D's mother and runs out of the house..... suddenly. D faints at this..... strange behaviour of E........ but substantiates the untimely run on learning the identity of E.

Flashback....... fast forward.........again a flashback.... and a fast forward again. The movie ends with B and C.... in a hug...... at Times Square. Fast forward...they are on their deathbed...... in fact already dead...... lovers cannot be separated on their deathbed.

On the other hand........ A realises his fault...... and gets D and E married. Fast forward....... E and C....lives happily ever after. They are in Times Square......narrating a spaecial story to their children.

End.

Name : Kabhi C, nahi to A. The title sticks to the norm.... Johar and Kapoor always title their products starting with a K.

The film also follows the respective rules...... New York is a must..... with fancy attire... regardless of the age..... and the outcome. The kundali is mentioned.... it being the turning point. Appearances.......disappearances.....of atleast one character. Expression of patriotism. Tears are shed in litres..... including those of the viewers'. A complicated story....... with a few song sequences..... with dull music.

Result : A happy(?) audience..... pouring out of the theatre with wet hankies.....giving their views on the movie to a news-correspondant. A news channel is seen talking about the movie..... keeping in mind... the combined effort...... through the length of the day.

I've been known for speaking quickly and incoherently. Other people have to really adjust to my speech for sometime before getting the hang of understanding my talk, be it English or Kannada. People say that i have lisp.....i guess it is a kind of speech disorder (i did a google search...but did not obtain a meaningful explanation...or rather it was too complicated....so the mission ends there).

This week was pretty eventful.....because i did find people whose speech is worse than mine....not that my speech is bad...but i simply could not find another word.

One...my neice.....obviously she is just a year and a half old....but still it is pleasant to hear babbling from somebody else........occasionally.

Two....we had a visitor at home.... supposedly my uncle's friend. I believe that the former chatted more with my father, than with my uncle. A power cut occured....... i ended up wandering in the house, doing nothing. This guy comes in....and starts talking in Kannada......it took quite some time for me to realise that. I was previously told about the same person......but seeing is believing.
To my chagrin... mother compared me with him.....

Hell...no.....i'm better than him.....atleast those who are a part of my everyday life can decipher my talk. (Truthfully, Shamsiya pretends not to understand my speech....which helps her and my friends at college in pulling my leg.)

article

This article was published some time ago....it tries to put some essence into bollywood....which is otherwise rot.

A band of small town boys with big-time talent is giving Bollywood a completely new turbo spin. Tinseltown’s glitzy ivory towers —propped up by traditional film industry families trapped in a maze of old habits — are in danger of being toppled by the increasingly persistent winds of change blowing over the Hindi cinema landscape. For proof, just take a look at the promos of Omkara, with scruffy Ajay Devgan striding across a dustbowl Hindi heartland landscape, as Sukhvinder Singh chants ‘‘Omkara, Omkara…’’ Transporting Shakespeare’s Moore (the film is an adaptation of Othello) from Venice to Meerut takes imagination and chutzpah. But director Vishal Bharadwaj has never lacked either. His first film, Makdee, was a children’s film that didn’t look and feel like a children’s film, and he followed it with Maqbool, setting the story of Macbeth in the Mumbai underworld, with two amoral soothsaying cops as the three witches.

So, is the end of the era of vacuous designer films at hand? Are fluffy fantasies facing a fade-out? Films like last year’s Bunty Aur Babli and Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi and this year’s run-away success Rang De Basanti, to name just three, would suggest that. These films have sent those who play the moviemaking game by the archaic rules of mainstream Mumbai cinema scurrying for cover. P

opular Hindi cinema is today as much about hinterland politics, small town quandaries an perpetually shifting mofussil dynamics as about woolly-headed reveries.

Film makers like Bharadwaj, Prakash Jha, Sudhir Mishra, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, Anurag Kashyap and Tigmanshu Dhulia, among others, have yanked a large chunk of Mumbai cinema away from its pretty, glamour-driven plasticity and invested it with gritty grey cells. This is a band of outsiders who grew up in “real India”, in small towns in the Hindi heartland. “Outsiders bring with them stories that are unusual, surprising, and firmly rooted in the real world,” says Varanasi boy Anurag Kashyap, a writer-director educated in Dehradun, Gwalior and Delhi’s Hansraj College. “These are exciting times for directors who have their own way of telling stories,” says lyricist, poet and filmmaker Gulzar, who penned the superhit songs of Shaad Ali’s Bunty Aur Babli with the intention of learning “the language of new Mumbai cinema.”

It is not just unusual songs and nifty folksy choreography that have cast a magic spell. A string of stylish, cinematically rich films made in the last few years by gifted storytellers from mofussil India have shown up the vacuity of the mush and mayhem that is dished out by conventional Mumbai-bred producers and directors. Some of these off-mainstream films have been runaway hits, others like Kabeer Kaushik’s UP underworld thriller Seher or Chandan Arora’s small town middle-class marital comedy Main Meri Patni Aur Woh, both set and shot in Lucknow, and Tigmanshu Dhulia’s Haasil, a love story located against the backdrop of murky university politics, have failed commercially. But they have all helped Mumbai cinema mature and diversify. So, are we witnessing signs of a return to the golden era of Hindi cinema? Says Gulzar: “Today’s films are more cinematic than the films of the 1950s. The latter were essentially literary in nature. The new independent Mumbai film-maker is more adept at using the entire range of the medium.” “Small town boys are taking over everywhere — in cricket, the corporate world, advertising and academia,” says Sudhir Mishra, whose cinematic ode to the politically volatile 1970s, Hazaaron..., is now a benchmark for Hindi cinema that dares to go beyond the realms of mere entertainment. “The Mumbai film industry is the last bastion of feudalism,”says Mishra. “It is only when this bastion is dismantled will real talent flow in freely.” Kashyap agrees: “Bollywood’s top shots are still mainly from within the film families.

But in a decade or so, small town boys will call the shots. From producers to directors, writers to technicians, they will be everywhere.” This had to happen,” says Kashyap, maker of such talked about films as Paanch and Black Friday. “The change is now too fast and furious for the Bollywood big guns to control.” Bunty Aur Babli, says Kashyap, is evidence of that, albeit in only a small way. “Even a banner like Yash Raj Films is today forced to move away from Mumbai and Switzerland, and head into the heart of UP,” says the man who co-authored the script of Ram Gopal Varma’s Satya, besides writing dialogues for Mani Ratnam’s Yuva. “The Bombay boys have lost touch with reality,” says Mishra, who grew up in Lucknow and spent his formative years on the campus of Sagar University in Madhya Pradesh. “Their arrogance is completely unfounded. They wear their illiteracy like a badge of honour. It is ridiculous.” Mishra makes a distinction between “Real Mumbaikars” and “Juhu Mumbaikars”: “Guys like Ashutosh Gowariker and Makarand Deshpande are real Mumbai boys — they are as culturally rooted as anybody else, steeped in Marathi culture. And yet make the most of Mumbai’s cosmopolitanism.”

Indeed, that is precisely why the outsiders — now with free access to mass media training — are on a stronger wicket than local practitioners. “The reference points of Mumbai-born filmmakers are severely limited,” says Prakash Jha, whose hard-hitting films have catapulted the boondocks of Bihar into mainstream Bollywood space. “People who have grown up within the confines of the industry can never understand the nuances of life in other parts of India,” says Jha. Adds Kashyap: “Mumbai-based filmmakers simply haven’t seen enough of life. T

hey have grown up surrounded by Bollywood films. Their storytelling is, therefore, simply too stale to pass muster.” “The world that Mumbai’s conventional filmmakers create is plastic, artificial, soulless,” says Gulzar. “Boys like Vishal, Rakeysh and Shaad know the lanes and bylanes of the land. Their sensibility springs from the ethos of middle-class India, in turn reflecting the vitality in their films.” Says Jha: “I could never have made the films that I have had I not been born and brought up in Bihar.” Like, on Haasil, Dhulia was quoted:“I don’t think college politics in Mumbai, or anywhere else, is as volatile as it is in the Hindi belt. I had seen all this as a student in Allahabad. I had to base my film there.”

Indeed, writers and filmmakers who have learnt the ropes from life have an inherent advantage over those who have never ventured outside their cosy circle. “Boys who come to Mumbai from outside,” says Jha, “have great hunger. They have a point to prove.” Which they have already proved beyond an iota of doubt. The future of Hindi cinema is here, not in the hands of Bollywood’s commercial satraps. “Mumbai is no longer the centre of our movie universe,” says Kashyap. “You do not have to be in Mumbai to make films. You can make films no matter where you live in India.” The shift is complete.

A lot of thought has gone into various issues this week. Especially the past saturday at the bbc(basket-ball court) at college.....with Sindhu and myself drawing Histology diagrams...and Indu trying to listen to music......eventually a debate started on the issue of marriages..... the treament metted out to women by the Hindu society.

Surprisedly....i found one of my lecturers reflecting my views on the above mentioned topics.

marriages

Why did the society come up with something known as a marriage?? Because we have undergone evolution to such a large extent...that we unable to think beyond certain things.
As animals do not have suthat we too are animals. I stress a lot on this fact.....we simply cannot forget our origins... our history...our semblances ch existant customs....is it necessary that we follow such traditions ourselves...keeping in mind...to beasts.

Is marriage really essential for us to lead a short life that is provided to us? Why is it that the soceity looks down upon people who do not have a spouse...moreso...a woman. Getting their progenies married is the most important goal in parents' minds. Another point is that why should a woman....be considered married all the time. Even if she is married she is definately wedded to somebody who is elder to her. Trying to find a substantial answer to this...is of no use, as we all used to follow such things...it is obviously difficult to think otherwise. Though....my father gave an answer which i catogarise as utter rubbish. It goes like this-women are said to be more mature....with them attaining this quality (if i may put it so...i could'nt think of a suitable word) at a younger age. Thus men require more time to become so...and hence older men marry younger women.

Women......are not provided education....simply because they have to cook in the kitchen. The question of women charging to look after kids..... is obviously met with raised eyebrows......but do we actually realise the amount of time and effort that is sacrificed in performing this holy act.

A paper clipping:

In many homes, the purse strings are in the hands of the wage-earner who can at any moment tell his wife that she is wasting too much time and money, talking to relatives and friends on the phone. That she does not need a new gas stove and will she please repair the old one? And why did she have to buy branded bedsheets when a cheaper set would have cost less?

A large number of women despite being on call 24 hours as wives and mothers, Do not have any money or assets in their name. Since they do not earn, they do not have any spending power at all.

Once the children nourished by them leave the nest, they have nothing to show for all the work they have done. And so the debate whether a woman should be paid for her services to her family rages on. First of all, can her inputs be measured in terms of a monthly salary? And if her contribution to her family is immeasurable, is it fair to deny her even a minimal financial independence? Is it fair to take her services for granted just because she chose to put her family’s needs before her own? And will money validate women who are made to feel worthless just because they are not working outside the home?

Why does this still happen?

movie tracks

Off late, movie tracks are becoming increasingly rotten.... considering both, Hindi and Kannada.

The movie Sevanthi Sevanthi was released a few months ago...leading to packed houses......and it did complete 100 days of film screening.....to an empty theatre. Claiming that the highlight of the movies.... i.e., the music......is the most stupidist thing......to be heard in recent times.

The music...is folk by nature......is jumbled with some drums etc....making it harsh to hear. I've always liked folk music...but this anything but the degradation of the original tracks. Kunal Ganjawala has given voice to most of the songs if not all. It is indeed difficult for anybody to sing folk songs........Kannada playback singers themselves find it a tough job. Ganjawala is from the Hindi industry and sings Kannada folk tracks......which is in plain terms..... is surprising. This guy is not being picked at.....but why would anybody want somebody from a non-kannada background to sing folk material.....which sounds heavenly only with the local accent...the correct pronunciation of words...etc....taking the example of pronouncing yellow as ellow!! In addition...the music is harsh...on the ears......with the original tantalizing nature easily forgotten. Not to forget the choreography.....if it may be called so.

Why are the old melodies being converted to dull stereotypes......with the old charm lost.

The latest in this list is the recently released movie Gandugali Kumararama. Being a periodical movie...it has the modern sound of the drums....... in the least they should have been made to sound music belonging to those times.

Pathetic!!!

pigeons

It was dusk....and everybody were heading back home. Roads jammed with vehicles... trying to reach home before it poured down. The skies were a beautiful flesh-red in colour. She scampered home.....initially, walking quickly to aviod getting wet. Slowing her pace......she wished for a slight drizzle.....to start...it was indeed a pleasant experience to walk slowly......with the clothes a little damp.

Reaching her home...she went straight to her room. Having freshened up a little.....she ate food......without squabbling about it....to her mother's surprise. A good novel in her hand...she curled up on the bed...against the wall. The wall was provided with four windows.....with two above and the other two below....arranged in a square.

Birds returned home.......to the rain-shelters......branches of trees........roofs ......to any nook and corner which would provide them with warmth. The windows had a rain shelter.......on which landed pigeons every evening......creating terrible amounts of noise. Pigeons generally are considered as docile........cute etc. But, of late she started disliking them. They woke her up....early in the morning....with loud noises.

Having tried to shoo....them... in vain.......they had become immune to any kind of ill-treatment she metted out to them.

Novels were fun....whereby time flies.....and landed her up in front of dinner......after which she headed straight to the bed.

Pigeons were attacking her..... trying to peck at her skin. Some were indeed successful blood was dripping at many places. Trying to comprehend the situation took some time......and she started yelling..........for help.

Moments later....she got up....bathed in sweat......realising that it was bad dream after all. There was no sound absolutely from near the shelter.....and she breathed in peace.

At last....i get to blog. Weekdays are busy amidst the cacophony of voices trying to scold me.....for not having completed my record....for not having drawn zoo diagrams(for those who read my blog.......this drawing business will last for 5 months if not more).

I was watching a documentary on Kerala.......forcasted by the Discovery Channel for the umpteenth time. Kalaripayattu has to be included into a film...without which the latter can never be done. The performer got a wound.....and the guru...took some leaves in his gornd......extracted the sap...by rolling the leaves between his palms....and poured the juice on the wound.

This screams one of the ancient traditions in our country....that of ayurveda. It does make sense......with me disliking some of the hindu traditions followed at home........ or even anywhere else for that matter.

Ayurveda does not necessarily mean....five-star hotels....with expensive personnel....performing the panchkarma.....with new-found ease. It may be the turmeric...basil leaves...the cloves....etc........simple ingredients found in every hindu household.

One of the best illustrations that i could give...is this-i get this dry cough all of a sudden......which is never cured....with allopathy. Cough syrup with the alcohol makes me sleepy.........with no cure at all. On the other hand.....pepper pods and salt consumed every night before bedtime works like magic. But, the fire that erupts when the pepper is ground in the mouth is maddening. It's worse than pouring down hot milk down the throat...or even dealing with hot extremely hot water(the truth being i've experienced both...so i would rather prefer the hot liquids than pepper pods any day).

Consuming 'english medicine' is rare.....except the hormone supplements that goes in daily. Pepper is really hot.....but that's the only thing which relieves me of the terrible cough.