Guldasta

A bouquet of flowers picked along the way ….

Partner (Movie Review) August 15, 2007

Filed under: Movie Reviews — gurdas @ :

Some movies are made for aliens. Partner is one such movie that leaves the competition (and you) gasping for breath. Touted as Govinda’s comeback vehicle, it made me wish Govinda never existed in the first place. And since I never missed his exit, I saw no point in being excited about his comeback.

Usually I choose which movie to watch. But sometimes, the movie chooses you. That is how it happened and I found myself huddled in a corner seat wondering how I ended up as audience to a movie I knew would be trash from the word go.

There is Govinda doing his silly act for the umpteenth time, jumping around like a jackass, making faces like a monkey and leaving you pulling your hair in desperation. He needs to woo some big-shot female (Katrina) who seems to be suffering from stunted mental growth. She is heading a big corporate and shows less sense than my housemaid. Helping Govinda is our resident maniac – Salman Khan. Like Govinda, he keeps dishing out the same stuff and expressions in movie after movie after movie. And people continue to enjoy the moronic contortions on his face as acting, movie after movie after movie. Both these ‘stars’ follow a familiar storyline in each movie. They will first act as brainless, then make some inevitable mistakes and then show the true love in their heart, finally winning the female lead in a rush of carbonated emotions. The female leads in this movie – Lara Dutta and Katrina Kaif contribute to the monkey parade with their silly histrionics.  Lara Dutta’s journalist act is as convincing as a zebra trying to pass as a peacock. Rajpal Yadav provides some comic relief in the first sequence but then even he starts getting on your nerves.

If the movie and the audience are to be believed, acting prowess is measured by the speed with which you can jiggle the muscles on your face and blurt sentences through your mouth. Before you can say help, there is some new nonsense being dished out. The trick is to so overwhelm you with stupidity that you never realise how stupid the movie is.

Characters are found breaking into a song and dance sequence of their own volition, much like a gang of baboons after they have had a drink too many. I forgot to check the credits but did this movie have a script writer and director in the first place?

And when will our movie makers learn to show some respect to the differently abled? For as long as I remember, they have been pulling cheap jokes on characters inflicted with stammering. And the latest craze is gay jokes. If the mark of a society’s evolution is its sensitivity towards others, Indian cinema gives the impression we are still in Stone Age.

Here is a mind bending sampler:
Salman’s sister is married to Sohail Khan who works with NASA. It seems after Shahrukh in Swades, the recruitment wing at NASA has thrown open their doors to Indians. And Salman’s nephew, true to his blood, has designed and developed a rocket at home. Never mind that it requires a certain knowledge of physics, if the director wants, it can be done. Right? And the rocket triggers when its developer say “go, baby, go”. If that has you tearing your hair out, the rocket gets fired and with a precision that would have the guys at NASA sit up, tracks Salman’s watervehicle and destroys it. And you dare not even think of the science of combustion, flight trajectories, coordinates etc. And yes, in case you did not know, keeping live rockets at home is within the law.

Have mercy on yourself. Stare at a wall if you have nothing better to do; but do NOT watch Partner.

 

A slogan, a jingle and a pair of twins

Filed under: advertisements — gurdas @ :

We have all said or heard “Nothing is Impossible” some time or the other. I did too.
However, it never occurred to me how switching places between the words can create a far greater impact. Until I heard “Impossible is Nothing” – Adidas’s punchline.

Suddenly the focus is on the word ‘impossible’ and the new arrangement gives a feeling that one can demolish the idea of anything being impossible. Awesome!

http://www.adidas.com/
http://www.impossiblestory.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adidas

—-
The Tata Indica Xeta campaign with gorgeous buxom beauties out on a holiday and looking for some fun, is, actually powered by its jingle. Not that I would have liked the ad without the ladies! It’s just that however many times I hear it, the jingle still sounds refreshing and perks me up.
This follows from the earlier (and equally refreshing) campaign where they have a liar having a bad day with his lies until he markets the Tata car.

http://www.tatamotors.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tata_Indica

—-

 UTI -Axis twins    UTI kid Shreya

My current fave ad campaign is the ‘UTI Bank is Axis Bank’ ad that has toddler twins walking one after other into a kindergarten playroom. I just adore this ad. Look at the twins smiling into the camera and your heart misses a beat.  I feel like rushing into that room and hugging all those kids. For once, kids are shown the way I like them – playful and curious. Which is contrary to the recent trend (in Indian cinema and media) of having kids act and talk as grown-ups.

Thank you Ogilvy & Mather for those amazing, amazing kids. And the very expressive teacher.

http://www.livemint.com/2007/08/13010100/It8217s-different-but-the-s.html
http://www.axisbank.com/personal/index.asp

—-

So, what is your favourite advertisement?

 

Is Saving Private Ryan Spielberg’s Best? August 11, 2007

Filed under: Movie Reviews — gurdas @ :

 Saving Private Ryan

Yes, if you were to ask me. With E.T and Schindler’s List together at number 2. Jurassic Park and Jaws come next. And yes, I did not like the Indiana Jones series.

Flipping through channels, I came across the screening on HBO. Having first seen it some 8 years ago, I was eager to relive one of my all time favourite movies.

From the initial scene of the WWII Normandy invasion of Omaha beach to the climax battle in the town of Ramelle, Saving Private Ryan is movie making at its best. No war movie that I have seen is as realistic as this or gives you that edgy ‘in the thick of battle’ feeling.

Interlaced with human emotions, nuances of thought & action, and questions of life & death, the movie keeps reminding you of the horror of war and the sad necessity of it at times.

My two favourite scenes are (1) the kid girl slapping her father for leaving her alone in the face of attack (he was trying to keep her safe) and (2) the slow knife driven into the chest of Private Mellish by his German adversary.

Tom Hanks as Captain Miller pulls off a great role, ably assisted by the motley group he assembles to find Private Ryan (Matt Damon), who must be brought back from behind enemy lines because he has lost three brothers and is the last remaining son of his family.

If you can take some of the most graphic depiction of battle violence (read body parts being blown apart, blood oozing etc), then get your hands onto Saving Private Ryan.

.
—– Further reading —–

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120815/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saving_Private_Ryan
http://www.casenet.com/movie/savingprivateryan.htm
http://www.moviedeaths.com/saving_private_ryan/private_stanley_mellish/
http://www.rzm.com/pvt.ryan/
http://www.filmvault.com/filmvault/chicago/s/savingprivateryan1.html
http://www.rjgeib.com/heroes/draper/saving-private-ryan.html

 

Haystack again August 9, 2007

Filed under: life,poetry — gurdas @ :

Continued from Haystack

.

The old man got busy again
Labouring hard many winter and rain
He soon lost all count of days
And forgot his sons and their wayward ways
 
The Gods were kind and the produce good
But his wife no longer beside him stood
A content woman she was in her last days
For she built a school where children play
 
Then one day he got a letter
And tears streamed down his sharp cheekbones
Mackaw, his son, had written an apology
Saying that he did wrong back then
 
He wanted his parents to come stay with him
And promised to take good care of both
And many other stories he told
To try undo the mistake of old
 
So the old man too a letter wrote
In which he first forgives his son
And then continues to write this
That the field is where his heart is
 
Because the soil never gave up on him
And he is too old to try new things
So though now a son he has to call his own
The haystack still in the moonlight shone

 

Lessons from Life : Sai Baba Episode August 7, 2007

Filed under: India,life — gurdas @ :

In October 2004, work took me Nasik, a city I had never visited. To reach Nasik from Baroda, I preferred going through Mumbai. A direct rail connection was not available and 12 hour travel by bus is not my idea of safe and relaxed travel. So, I decided to take a night train from Baroda which would drop me at Dadar (a locality in Mumbai) at 4:30am. And from Dadar take the 6:30am bus that drops me at Nasik 4 hours later.
 
I left office at the eleventh hour and rushed to Jyotsnaben’s residence. Jyotsnaben runs a meal service and I have been eating at her place for the last few years. Her food might waver in quality on occasions, but she invariably more than makes up with a healthy dose of affection. Truly, she serves more than one can pay for. Even with a fortune. As I rushed through my dinner, I was telling her of my travel to Nasik and she happened to mention that since I am going all the way to Nasik, I should also plan to visit Shirdi and pay homage to Sai Baba. I replied to Jyotsnaben’s suggestion with haste and maybe even some disaffection. I said something like “who has the time for a visit to Shirdi?” Something inside me shouted “mistake!” but since she did not react, I too kept silent almost wishing she had given me an excuse to undo that thought.
 
Food over, I proceeded to the railway station and boarded the train. I was asleep in no time and was woken by the clamouring of passengers eager to get down at Dadar. I hurriedly collected my senses and belongings and soon found myself yawning and stretching on the platform and proceeded towards the exit that would take me to the bus stop.

The early morning air was balmy and one could feel a lightness and life in it. Mumbai probably never sleeps and true to this image there were people scrambling about even at this early hour. There was a certain bounce in my walk, helped by the idea of travel and the wonderful FM music on air. What else could I have asked for? Hardly aware of the luggage I was carrying, in no time, I reached the spot where I was to board the bus. My eagerness to be on the move made waiting a less than exciting idea. Or maybe it was because I wanted to walk some more? But the salubrious morning had plans of which I had no clue. I looked around for a place to settle down because the bus was due only 2 hours later. As I scanned the area, my eye caught sight of a small inviting structure with stairs in front. It was under a tree, unoccupied and ideally located along the walkway. That means a ring side view of people as they hurry about their morning. Perfect!

The absence of natural light prevented a clear view of what the structure contained. Upon reaching the spot I could make out that it was some kind of temple. I settled down, stretched my legs and continued to enjoy the FM music. The DJ was wishing good morning in her honeyed voice. Good morning! I replied, almost aloud. She went on to feed details of the water pipe that had burst and how it was causing hardship to residents of that locality. My attention moved on to the hawkers who had appeared to take their negotiated places on the walkway. The shop nearest to me belonged to a paan-wallah and it was fun to see him arrange his wares with military precision. In no time, red, blue, green, and yellow boxes announced he was ready for customers. Out came the betel leaves, the spittoon and with that ambled along his first customer. Mumbai was ready to receive another day of spittle trajectories, I thought, and giggled. Beside the paan-wallah appeared the newspaper-wallah. The rainbow effect of the paanshop now starkly contrasted with the almost Black&White newspapers. And it just wasn’t about colour. While the paan depicts an ancient India, the English dailies portrayed our new ambitions. India and Indians had truly arrived at the world stage. Lock, stock, paan and barrel.

To add to my joy, the morning milieu added a tea vendor to its order. Tea! I said to myself, sprang to my feet and crossed the road eager to sip some of that invigorating liquid. The first cup disappeared in no time and I needed a second to relish the indescribable joys of a well brewed cup of tea. Cup in hand I ambled back to my rest and heaved onto the stairs with my eyes focused on balancing the tea in the cup.

Many more vendors appeared to occupy the walkway. One had shirts and scarves on sale. Another had footwear. I passed the next thirty minutes juggling my thoughts catalysed by the drama around me and the DJ’s sweet banter and love marinated songs. Soon the sun had peeked through the darkness and there was a cozy light around. The need for a third cup of tea made itself felt. I got up and crossed the road. This time the tea vendor smiled, recognising me as good business. I smiled back, paid for the cup and hurried back to my spot.

The shock came when I reached to the stairs which had been bearing me for the last 60 odd minutes.
 
The stairs and the structure was a temple of Sai Baba.
 
For a few seconds I just stared. And in those moments, I was grounded into dust. My Self felt washed away and in some strange manner loved. My nonchalance of the last evening flashed by and I rarely felt ‘smaller’ in my life. Once I got through the shock, a smile broke upon my lips. A silent thank you was said somewhere within my being. Not only for the generosity contained within the universe but more for its utterly unique and impressionable style of teaching a lesson. It is said there is no teacher greater than life. I agree.
 
After this episode I made another two visits to Nasik. On each occassion I sunk into the pleasure of sitting on the same stairs. Each time I was reminded of my lesson. Each time I felt loved and wanted. Each time I felt truly connected and belonging to the universe. Time did not permit me a visit to Shirdi. Hopefully, I have still been lucky to realise a truth and be blessed.

Each of us, every single day, is touched and caressed by Life. One need not read any book if one can read the book of life.