Winning...Talent...and all the rest of it!

...apparently its a habit! I sure could do with it right now. Seems to me I haven't been in Da Zone for the last 15 years or so.You know...the zone where everything you do goes right, every idea that you get is brilliant, every move you make is maginificent.

I don't know what it is now, the zone appeared long ago and then life just seemed to run away. I know what you'll say, sour grapes. I guess it is... It's just that to get back would be nice, that child-like joy in absolute victory is hard to experience elsewhere. So these days, I just have vicarious victories...by watching the IPL and cheering teams belonging to a city where I don't belong anyways.

It just brings me to that question - is the zone a function of your talent or your choices? Choices, mostly. But, aren't those choices a function of your talent? So...limited talent = limited choices = limited zone. You see, after a certain age, the talent loses its sheen, uniqueness and voila! a lot of other people have the same "talent". Very soon, its not a talent anymore...its just one of those things that you used to be good at.

Writing, quizzing, maths, painting, singing, dancing, computers - for us mediocres, the zone is miniscule - possibly a golden year is all we are granted. Before long, theres a friend who writes better, a classmate who sings wonderfully, paintings that you can never hope to have created, whizkids with progams that never occur to you and even happiness is just a flicker of a talent we have.

So, given all this mediocrity...I am no longer sure I want to add this to the WWW and embarrass myself.
So long!

Twilight Zoners

We are the Twilight Zoners - the darkest before dawn, the fading before the dark. When we were born, the swinging 60s and its flowery powers had passed us by, the world no longer had time for block prints and ganja nights. The Beatles had broken up and Kennedy was dead - the world grieved.
When we were crawling, the world was seething with revolution - towns were painted a fiery "red", feudalism was brought to its knees, barriers were 'caste' down. The Emergency came and went - fear dominated society, we spoke our first words. Nice neighbourhood girls "eloped" with the neighbourhood chaiwallah to much scandal. The flavour was Communist, the mood pugilistic.
We were growing. Television was an extravagance, saving was a national hobby. Travel was second-class, holidays were in the "native", and people who went beyond the seas, sailed in the hope of a Green Card and more than one brand of soap. Doordarshan brought home grainy cricket matches and Hindi commentary, Wimbledon we saw from the Round of 16, Formula 1 not at all. Mandal was the bugbear, the excuse to study here and work elsewhere. Computers were complicated calculators. Maruti was the luxury car of the decade. Jobs were few, careers unheard of.
Foreign exchange reserves they said. Rupee convertibility we heard. Full, partial, people clamoured. We were the teenagers. Instead of freeing others through crude bombs or freeing ourselves through yoga and ganja, we discovered the pleasures of the couch. The remote was our newest toy, the supermarket shelves the unconquered frontier. Computers exploded,from exporting spices, we now exported software and the engineers to write them. Mobile phones were large, clumsy devices we aspired to use...someday.
We struggled with liberalisation. It conflicted with all our upbringing - compete? how? Work 24x7, what was that? Use and Throw?!! Spend?!!! No way!!! Our collective middle-class conscience saw wealth beyond comprehension. We were graduates. India had produced billionaires from common, everyday people. Cousins who worked in IT, owned 2 houses, 3 cars and of course a Green Card.
We are working, India is the place to be, the land of opportunity. The cousins are coming back, to gated communities of course. We have travelled the world, taken Indian cuisine along with us. The world was coming here, every brand wants a piece of India. We can't understand it. We spend, a lot. We are trying to be entrepreneurial, we cant understand 20-somethings with their own restaurant or company, neither do we dig a "gap" year.
The kids are more conversant with the world, holidays are no longer Indian, education is no longer a prerequisite for success. Being in-your-face is good. Sex and dating are not taboo...maybe not quite. We are middle-aged. We gym to keep the weight down. We compete for promotions. We have hypertension. We criticise the government. We are indifferent to our surroundings. We worry about money. We want the "best" for our kids - no matter what they want. We are the EMI people, living a king-sized life...on loan.
We look forward to tomorrow, all the while feeling nostalgic for the past. We know Facebook, but cant understand what the fuss is all about. We love You-Tube, to watch reruns of Hum Log and "Ek titli" cartoons. We are terrified of the recession, yet we talk of "giving it all up" to chase a dream. We are the nothing generation, used to protectionism, advocates of the free market. Nobody woos us - GenX & GenY are attractive, the older Gens have the money.
We are caught in our web of constraints, mostly in the mind. We were the deepest dark, before the end of drudgery. We are the fading, of all things simple (if ever they were). We are the Twilight Zoners.
P.S: Rajni suggested the name, during a discussion...thanks to her for setting it off.

The GOD at 43...

Most skills this world appear to be something that one can learn, practice, master and perfect, even. But, once in a while, there comes a human being, who seems to be born with the mastery of a skill. I use the term human being quite loosely...these are more demi-gods who take their craft to a different league altogether. Idolized by millions, they consistently deliver superlative results over their entire careers. Records are just a bland summary of the dominance they exert on their chosen areas. This is seen across fields and walks of life, but never so dramatically as in sport. Superlatives in sport are often short-lived snuffed out by competition, injury, luck, politics, personalities, what-have-you. So when a genuine champion comes along, the world sits up, lauds them, burdens them with expectations.These gods, as it were, go beyond just their sport, to become messiahs of hope to a nation burdened with conflicts and troubles.
Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, is one such champion, probably the only one of his kind, for whom a nation unites. Recently, he scored his 41st Test Century - the max by any cricketer ever, this is a record alongside the most runs in test cricket, the most runs in one-day cricket, the most centuries in one day internationals, the most fifties in both forms...basically, every batting record around that's worth having! Yet, this man, rather this god, slew a demon then, a complicated one at that- "winning a match for India in the 4th innings, by scoring a hundred and a four for the winning run". Why was this even a demon?? Well...a nation of a billion cricketing brains decided that Sachin hadn't conquered all yet...he needed to slay this one too for the nation to finally lay rest to all the cribs and criticisms - "Sachin never wins a match for us!".
I remember the years from `89 - possibly `00 as dark times for Indian cricket, when we used to pray for Sachin to bat from overs 1-50 and hopefully not run out of partners. Then it got that he had to turn his arm over at crucial times and win wickets as well. Opposition teams exulted, then as now, when they got Sachin. The difference now is, they have a Yuvraj, Rohit Sharma, Dhoni, Suresh Raina etc etc, not to mention an occasional Harbhajan or even Zaheer, to follow. This makes them stop and take stock rather than premature champagne celebrations.To put it in perspective - he has scored 31 of his 43 hundreds in matches India won. Those amazing innings have come at an average of 57!
Its an indication of the standards others set for him, that when he topscored for us in NZ, a sublime innings at that, people were disappointed that he didnt go on to score the 200!!! Others were harping on the fact that he hadn't scored a ODI hundred in NZ till now! This is after an innings of 163, where he went from 100 to 163 in 32 balls!!!
After his 41st Test hundred, he said "Bhagwan Bharose"! For us in India, hoping the 2011 World Cup will be IT, its "Sachin Bharose" all the way!

Alone...

"... human beings are inescapably alone, and therein lies their tragedy" - Richard Yates

Alas for Bangalore!!!

As a Madras-Born, Chennai-bred, temporary Bangalorean, I have to confess this is not my favourite city. I haven't ever felt comfortable without my movies, my marina, my mozhi (language)! But, one thing I have always been grateful to Bangalore and its people is, that I've felt safe in this city, as I have never felt in my own. As a single woman living alone, I have taken comfort from the fact that B'lore leaves me be; lets me fulfill my days activities alone, without having to hide from predatory Indian men.
I have dined alone (upaharas to upmarket fine dining); shopped (only) alone; watched movies alone; hung out in malls alone; sat at ulsoor lake for long hours gazing at the water....you guessed it...alone! All of this...in a very satisfying solitude...no intrusions...no rubbing up...no groping...no staring. How sweet is that! I adored this city that never turned an eye whatever you wore...didnt think it odd for a single woman in her twenties (yes! yes! I'm still there!) to go for a movie and return home at 1 in the night.
All of this...till recently. First , I couldn't go to a pub without worrying who would walk in and assault (irrespective of my male friends - they cant beat up ppl). Then, I couldn't decide on what festivals I wanted to celebrate - Valentines day, which was abhorrent till now, now became a choice I didnt have! Then, I couldn't speak to men of a different religion! Now, it turns out I can't wear "Western" clothes anymore - so even what I wear is not my choice anymore.
Women are being assaulted (yes...means hit!) in broad daylight, in the middle of the city, even inside a car...for wearing "Western" clothes!! Not even "revealing" clothes - thats an old one - but trousers and a "kurta". Women have been told "you can't walk alone"!! The people of this city have stood around watching this violence. The government in this state can no longer guarantee the safety of half its earning, educated, tax-paying population.
Don't drink, don't show any skin, wear only saris/Indian clothes, don't go out alone, don't talk to men, don't step out of the house without male protection!!! Do I hear the word Taliban somewhere???? Actually not, I don't think Taliban - they don't want their women to work or earn their keep (they make them do housework ofcourse!). We are INDIAN see...so these women need to work, they need to manage the house...they need to be up for sex on demand (from man), they need to work easy times but earn more...but they need to be dumb, mute, submissive, all-accepting, BODIES. Equal rights????????? Indian constitution??? Whats that???

Movies...Frost/Nixon

Frost/Nixon: Stg. Michael Sheen, Frank Langhella. Dir. Ron Howard
Richard Nixon, arguably America''s most controversial President, chose David Frost, a comic talk-show host with a breezy, light-hearted presence, for his first televised presence after resigning. Presumably, Nixon (and his advisers) thought Frost, not a hard-nosed journalist would do a soft, human-interest story that would bring back into focus Nixon's presidency and the good he had done to America rather than the last 6 months of Watergate.

Frost's interest in doing a Nixon story surprised many people including his closest friend and eventual producer John Birt. What they hadn't accounted for was his compulsive need to be in the spotlight, to be considered "successful". He had been to the US, had tasted sweet success, had used Sardi's as his "canteen", was part of the glamourous social circuit of New York. To have that taken away, and more importantly to contemplate never having it back was too much for Frost. So he gambles his entire savings, and borrows a lot more, to tempt Nixon.

The research team on the other hand, are committed to giving Nixon "the trial he never had". Played by Sam Rockwell and Richard Platt, this team puts their reputations and careers on hold to dig out every possible conversation Nixon might have had, every change in tone, every move his associates have made, so that Nixon can be ensnared.

Frost/Nixon is an adaptation of a successful Broadway play featuring the same cast. The transition from stage to film has been very well done, with Peter Morgan (The Queen, Last King...) doing the screenplay. The movie moves from the gloomily languorous pace of a deposed President's life to the frenetic commitment of Frost's research team. Frost, doing it for the eyeballs and the fame, he thinks it will bring him, is toyed with, by a crafty President determined to "head back East". Nixon, enjoys the game, a chance to be back in the spotlight, be vindicated. The lead up to the Watergate showdown, the sobering up of Frost with a prod from unexpected quarters to the climactic close-up of a president uncovered for the world to see, form this gripping tale.

Frank Langhella as Nixon is superb! Not very many actors can stand up to very close scrutiny on film. But Mr Langhella's face twitches, his eyes dart, his upper lip sweats (like Nixon) and he ages through the interview. Every inch the haughty president, when he says "if the president does it, it is not illegal"...you almost want to beleive it. In his eyes, you see the desperation and hunger of a deposed President. In his gait, you see confidence, a security in his place in the world, which is quickly demolished on TV. Micheal Sheen is good as well, as a Frost, who may have outreached himself with this interview. Used to adulation, he is thrown by Nixon's condescention, unnerved by the Prez's rambling. Mr Sheen is believably awkward, when Nixon casually insults him and downright afraid when he realises he "has to get to work".

Frost/Nixon is at a decent pace, with much of the action happening indoors. We don't feel claustrophobic, thanks to the screenplay and the acting. The supporting cast, including Kevin Bacon as a devoted Nixon CoS, are uniformly competent and provide some much needed moments of levity. Its a masterful piece of story-telling that shows the world the power of television anew...of all the more relevance in an age of reality shows and instant gratification.

Movies...Revolutionary Road

I've been watching a fair number of movies the past couple of weeks. Have been thinking I should write something, NOT a review, about them. So here goes nothing...

Revolutionary Road : Cast - Kate Winslet; Leonardo DiCaprio
Adapted from a novel by Richard Yates, this Sam Mendes movie stars "Kate and Leo", as a sub-urban couple. Part of a conventional society, Kate, an aspiring-actress-turned-suburban-mom, feels stifled and longs to break out and chase a dream. The problem - Leo, who it turns out, no longer wants to run with her. Thats putting it simplistically...actually he does agree to give it all up and move to Paris, and they spend couple of months in pleasurable anticipation. Leo enjoys shocking the neighbourhood but not his colleagues ribbing him about being a "kept" man. Kate, thrills at the prospect of being unconventional, booking tickets with enthusiasm, learning French, planning a secretarial job. Pregnancy, a promotion on the job, put the brakes on this plan, forcing the couple to assess their motivations, resulting in tragic consequences.
Kate Winslet is superb, as the young girl, who got lost in the wife and mother. We realise early on, she doesn't have the talent, but she doesn't ask herself this question - perhaps the answer is too obvious to bear. She struggles to assuage the guilt he heaps on her - "You are a mother, how can you think of abortion?". Hunted down by conventions, strangled by routine, smacked in the face by life's surprises, she fights and struggles and kicks, only to hurt herself.
Leo DiCaprio is effortlessly good, as the husband, who sees his wife, his love, going off the deep end, destroying herself and them, and is helpless to arrest it. He can't understand her struggle, he doesn't want to! He asks the question so many men have asked their vagrant wives, "Why can't you be happy, like the rest of us?". They have a house, kids, money, sex- what more would a woman want?! He fights the distance she puts between them, only to lose and find comfort with another.
This is one movie where the fights are real, screaming, gut-wrenching! Sam Mendes shows what many of us have seen, a marriage unravelling. Lovers turn strangers, children turn burdens and society turns into a millstone. Kate Winslet pleads with her husband "Please...Please ...tell me we can have this child in Paris", even as she knows he can't/won't. The only person who seems to make "sense" of this situation, is the psychologically ill, returned-from-san neighbour. Perhaps that pushes her over the brink - insanity seems to be her only living refuge.

Farce!

What is a farce? Merriam-Webster defines it as a "ridiculour or empty show; a mockery; insincere or counterfeit. Anyone or all of those terms would define life right now. For the rest of it, my friend Ram has articulated it much better...so here it is! :-)

Whats right, whats wrong and a disaster waiting to happen...

Life has a way of getting complicated, just when it seems to have sorted itself out. For a change, the personal and the professional parts of life were chugging along just fine - I was finally making some commissions as a sales person and the personal part, while not exactly happy, had hit status quo. With a mind like mine, and the ability to f%^k up most things that come within 10 feet of me...I couldn't ask for more.
But, no! I manage to go and find trouble...I chose this year's account set, fought for it even, only for a financial crisis and takeover woes to ensure I hit an all-time unmentionable low on sales numbers - bang! there goes 50% of my already paltry salary. This alone is usually enough to make me let go of the edge of sanity that I always seem to cling to...but things never happen alone, do they?
I've let my feelings get the better of me, and hurt some of the people closest to me...hurt them by using them most unfairly, just because I want every need assuaged immediately. If that doesn't happen, I turn bitter and hurtful... stuff inherently wrong. I've never had much of a concept of right and wrong, and pretty much anything goes is what I have always maintained. Only, I have never had much cause to ponder right or wrong - one needs to actually do something to think of whether its right or wrong! I now have a strong urge to do the right thing by the people that matter most to me...only to find that its complicating life even more and now I have a line to tread that I never knew existed. What does it make me do...swing wildly!! One day, I tell myself, I will do the right thing...I will not let my feelings get away with it! By end of day, I have done exactly that, and done exactly the thing I set out not to do...hurt people!!! I should be shut off...straitjacketed and put away for good...for everybody's good!!!
Voluntary Lobotomy candidate available - any takers????

Meeting a friend's hubby-to-be

There are some social situations where not doing anything leaves you exhausted. You have to reign in your usual sparkling personality, put a lid on anything that might expose the inner workings of your demented mind, and most taxing of all...be nice. These situations usually involve meeting a new acquaintance, especially someone important to someone important to you. These are the times when you bemoan social niceties, lament your dependence on this person and your own inability to not care a hoot!But, then...the friend matters to you...more than all else. So you swallow pride, sarcasm all else that's abrasive about you, and become unrecognizable.
Certain of these awkward situations are better than others. Case in point, meeting a friend's parents. These are genuinely nice people, who themselves have no clue about their son/daughter's "activities" outside home, and who think that their son's friend should be a "nice" girl. Hardly the place to respond to blameless people who ask you "...so your parents must be looking for a boy for you.." with a snarling "...how does it matter to you whether I marry or not...bugger off!". So I usually try to look demure, smile (more like grimace) and say "yeah...they keep asking...but there's time...".
Other situations are painful - meeting a friend's boy/girl friend (who you instantly dislike), meeting the parents at places they wouldn't expect you (e.g. coming out of sex shop/casino/sexy lingerie shop). But most painful of all...is meeting your best (girl)friend's fiancee - hubby-to-be. This is when, you can't give any feedback to friend, can't prevent the worst from happening, can't tell her..."woman! the man's not our type". You see, the decision has already been made - all she wants for you to do is to look, endorse, and be happy for her.
Imagine, your friend is as footloose and fancy-free as you are, but her choice of husband turns out to be a pretentious, heavy usa-accent, patronizing, chennai-hating, tam-bram tradition loving "boy". What...but what is one supposed to do? The man looks most horrified when I ask him "...so do you like cooking?". I mean, he has stayed outside India for more than a decade now, and even I with all my loathing, can cook to save my life, so its a logical conclusion that he knows how to cook. How can he claim to love tamil and yet say, "I comparrrtmentalize my life, speak tamil only at home!", in Chennai. Not like I was asking him to speak only Tamil in London right?
I hate people who begin a conversation with "I was promised scintillating conversation by her"...its a guaranteed method for a boring, groping for inoffensive topics conversation. It just puts unnecessary pressure on the parties.
The worst is yet to follow - you successfully negotiate the powder-keg evening, bite back all the amazingly witty responses that are your trademark, smile enough at the man to convince him he's a hit, avoid spending more than a second necessary, escape home, shut the door and heave huge sighs of relief....only to get an sms from the woman demanding feedback. I mean, what am I supposed to say? It took the longest 10 minutes of my life, to compose a message that was thoroughly cleansed of any bitchiness and true sarcasm. It had to say only the nicest things about a man I wouldn't touch with a bargepole - imagine the effort in the cause of true friendship! Phew! I atleast did hard labour, another friend was so hard put to respond, she didn't! Woes of the sisterhood, man!

Traditional Families

I was watching this Tamil movie - "Yaaradi Nee Mohini" - which features what the filmmaker thinks is a traditional Iyengar family. The filmmaker's idea of orthodoxy struck me as silly, an immature attempt at slapstick, and definitely not funny. But this post is not about that. The story goes that this traditional family is the one forcing the heroine into a marriage she doesnt want. Not by brute force, but just the burden of expectations.
That set of a train of thought on how tradition and the families hidebound to it, shape the lives of women in India, and possibly elsewhere. I can't talk of other countries, or possibly even other cultures within India, so I'll stick to Iyengardom, as I know it.
Typical scenario, the family (nuclear also), and its immediate surroundings are seeped in "tradition". Tradition means celebrating every festival with ALL the rituals, no matter how impractical. Every religious occasion - new moon, full moon, crescents in between, month beginning, month end, saturday, tuesday, thursday and all days in between - are observed with appropriate piety. Men and women, supposedly have assigned roles and should stick to them, with..ahem...exceptions.
This is carried to the extreme and results in ridiculous situations! Like the time my aunt me I couldn't join a new job on a pre-set date - it was a Navami (god knows whats wrong with the number 9, other religions praise it!). I had to explain to her that the corporate world works just a tad differently and I better join if I wanted to have a job! Or the fact that my mom insists that dad and I get out of the house first, whenever the family goes out - threes are unlucky, see! I tell my mom she should have planned better - can't estrange herself from my father every 5 minutes to make up!
These things might sound harmless enough, but they are like ivy, creeping up on you slowly, choking the life out of you, slowly...very slowly. There are constant irritants that leave you longing to escape, leave you shaking your head in disbelief. See, its not all backward - thats the most incidious part of the situation. These families educate their women, send them to work even, but still they have to follow TRADITION, no matter how much it harms their lifestyle!
Its not done through coercion, its done through conditioning. For a long time, I beleived that having a period was "unclean"...something to be ashamed of! Biology classes didn't help - this was Madras and no one explained very clearly what was happening. I had to (and still do) sleep separately, on a plank (that has changed now, after some 15 years) with a rexin pillow. I was given water in a separate bottle and had to stick to one chair (only) for 3 days - these things continue even today! I couldn't go into the kitchen (that one I don't do anyways ;-))...I couldn't go near the gods for sure...I couldn't take the food plate from my mom's hands - had to pick it off the floor, no matter I had cramps that left me (and still do) crying out loud! Oh, by the way, I had to bear the pain of those cramps - tablets were considered harmful! Pain that left me confused, bewildered, wondering how my mom couldn't understand my suffering, pain I couldn't share with others - it made me feel guilty.
Enough of icky things, there are other "important" things you say? Let me tell you something - I hit puberty at 11, I am 29 now - that makes it 18 years now, 216 periods in all, 648 days or nearly 2 years of pain, humilaition and irritation. How would you take it? Do tell...and I'm not alone. I had classmates, friends all through who were meted out this treatment in varying degrees. Girls who were turning into women, with no idea what that meant...who were expected to study and perform as well as the boys, with none of the freedoms that the guys took for granted.
But, there are other things, even more dangerous. Marriage, most important of all. Again, drawing from experience, it took till age 18, when I reached college for me to question, accept and like the idea that "love" marriages are ok, they are not done by "bad" girls. This probably explains why I've lurched from one dysfunctional relationship to another since then - but I'll save that for another post.
Traditional families rear their girls on a staple of "Good girls listen to their parents". Good girls wait till after education, marry a groom chosen by their parents, have babies and "settle down" whatever that means! Good girls know that to look at men before marriage is "bad", to fall in "love" sacrilege, and to actually have a marriage for "love" unthinkable! Love was (and is) a four-letter foul word in these families. Marriages are "arranged" - horoscopes are matched, families are investigated, wealth and education are assessed. Likes and dislikes didn't matter - the girl is expected to "adjust", even today! Things have changed, even my friends claim! Oh yes, they have - "love" marriages are ok now, as long as the bride and groom are from the same community, earn similar amounts. Money makes up for a lot of shortcomings, you know.
This "progressive" outlook is what makes moms (all of them) I meet say, its ok, you girls (unmarried women like me), are free to choose your guy - just ensure they are Brahmin, Tamil, working in US/UK, earning a lot, are educated like you. Ha! I can look for a partner for life, just that he should be tailored to their requirements than mine. Some marriage that would be. The saddest thing about these traditional families, is they don't force you - there is no violence, no anger. Just the entire weight of a clan's expectations, that slowly, inexorably, crush you into submission. If you don't they just double their expectations, come at you more frequently, complacent in the knowledge that you will succumb at some point of time, its never failed to work before. Its almost a tradition!

Training Types

Looking around the table…

Yuppie Sales guy: He’s read all the relevant books, has prepared client briefs with exhaustive details including fetishes for smelly underwear, the aspirational guy who is the first to jump up and present, demo-ing that he’s listening…he’s all there, no matter he says all that he shouldn’t.

Blow-hard “I’m here to show my peers I’ve arrived” sales guy: Da man with all da answers. Been there, done that, can’t let go of the t-shirt. BSD is the memorable phenomenon that Michael Lewis i.d.-d. He can’t stop talking of how he handles clients oh-so-very differently, how he accesses the higher levels with panache. If only he stopped and listened hard, he’d hear the sound of no one caring a hoot. Such behaviour is usually the result of a mistaken assumption that your audience has no idea what you are about. These are the guys who talk continually of a sales guy’s life being terribly exciting (daily), no matter that half the time, you are chasing a squiggle on a purchase order that will save your ass for precisely 3 days (till next week’s review). I know what you are thinking…sounds…cynical. Right?

Of course it does! That brings me to the next type. The Cynic – this one’s close to my heart. It’s me! The kind who attends the training with a bored look, fighting sleep constantly, smirking @ the above two types, and of course updating a blog! For the world of me I don’t understand sitting in a hall hearing a very nice (I have to be honest) lady trying to explain solution selling. Its all very well, but when I want to talk strategy, my client wants me to find the missing parts! When I write to the CEO, saying I might have something relevant to him, he scrolls down, sees my designation, and presses Shift + Delete!

There is one last type that holds out hope for humanity. These are the Nice Guys – guys who are there knowing it is a waste of time, but are willing to give it a hearing; guys who are capable of giving their full attention to the goings-on and respect the idea behind the training. Nice guys these – they are even willing to take some learnings away from the jing-bang! More power to them, the nicest chaps on this beleaguered planet!

The city of 100 spires....

There ARE some perks to working in Sales...once a year, the powers that be decide that they have had enough laughs at the sales force's expense, no more torturing for orders that won't or can't come in anyways, no more demeaning waiting-in-client-reception-for-acting-pricey-client, no more ego-crushing, self-respect destroying exercises in order-picking. Its the end of the year, so go forth and recharge!
This usually means a jamboree in a distant land (for those in India at least), in a 30-hour nightmare flight in steerage, a time to reflect, retrospect and presumably rejuvenate. The smarter amongst us, combines a holiday, pre- or post- this meeting, company pays the long haul, see? A two-week break from clients appears tinted in pink and dressed in rose petals at the end of a grueling last month...so I scoured the net for possible locations at 1 hour flying distance from Frankfurt and finally decide - Praha!Prague - city of medieval mystery, golems, ghosts, knights in battered armour, castles, legends and magic!
Often, there are places that look glossy, attractive, and seeped in history, only for reality to be jarringly different and often disappointing. Prague, thankfully is not one of these. I did have to put up with great weather that seemed to have brought every holidaying family, ageing spinster in Western Europe, out in droves. The bright sunshine also meant that castles and churches instead of appearing gloomy and mysterious, appear beautiful and accessible. But still, it is amazingly pretty, fantistically preserved and very friendly.
Legends abound...the knight turned to stone by his virginal bride, who appears every year to claim a new one...the rabbi who made an image of himself in mud, for it to turn into the violent golem, of clashing faiths, reappearing priests and babies fighting off the Devil himself! There is an abundance of architectural styles - gothic, renaissance, modern, roman...all in amiable co-existence.

And churches....100s of them...scattered all over, with a cycle of faiths that have all imprinted themselves! The townhall tower, offers a magnificent view across the Old Town and every turn of the head, brings up a new spire, more ornate than before. Dominating the landscape is the castle's St. Vitus Cathedral - a Gothic structure with amazing murals and the tomb of every nobleman and royalty to have frequented the place. The more money you donated to the Church, the closer to the main altar you got buried and the more ornate your tomb - the meek shall inherit the earth!!
Prague Castle (from the outside at least) was a disappointment, looking like a bad 5* hotel - I don't understand why palaces can qualify to be castles and hills become mountains in Europe! Prague retains traces of its Communist recent-past and people still seem to be sorting out details including rent-control and free education. 1968 when the Russians rolled in their tanks, is fresh in their memory, and the smart youngsters of today mill around old women dressed in black lace, carrying groceries like treasure.
The city is amazing by night and the Prague of medieval times seems to play hide-and-seek in low light. If you strain your ears, you can almost hear the clip-clops of horse-drawn carraiges and imagine the night watchman patrolling the streets in a black cape and lantern. You blink, only to realise the carriages are real with scores of tourists and the black figure is a student by day and guide by night! Such is life...in Prague where dream and reality seem to meld...where you can straddle centuries in a day and relax with light Czech beer by night!

Comic Book Heroes: Paper to Pixel!

The world at large and the movie-world in particular are quivering with excitement at The Dark Knight, Christopher Nolan's "dark, brooding, mysterious" tale - 5th Batman movie, 2nd in its new avatar. The worldwide takings on the opening weekend are expected to be the biggest Hollywood has ever seen, bigger than current leader - Spiderman III!
Which brings me to - do superheroes leap from books to cinema, just as easily as they jump buildings, lift cars and rescue people? What guarantees everlasting silver-stardom to a few? Is it dependent on the movie or the character? Director or creator?
In an America threatened by new forces - political, revolutionary and economic - superheroes seem to be just what the paranoid public wants to cling to. Susan Faludi, writes about DC comics came up with a whole slew of superhero stories after 9/11 - white knights endorsing firefighters, rescuing women from burning towers, and make heroes of ordinary people.
After all, wouldn't anyone want to be superhero? Imagine wearing a cape, using cool gadgets, getting your (most times) woman and flying through the air (wearing tights is a minor price to pay for all this)...that rocks! The most delicious part is that we all have to suspend disbelief and accept that Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker et al are just regular guys, when they step out of their pantsuits. Ok...Bruce Wayne...is filthy rich, but hey! cut the guy some slack - he's an orphan. The step from hero to super hero is just as easy as shrugging out of a shirt - isn't that a delicious thought.
But the transition from paper to movie is not so smooth. Agreed, comic books are easy for studio execs to understand, relate to - being storyboards themselves. But, comics leave much to our imagination while detailing much else that cinema cannot aspire to. There are extremes of facial expression that real human beings (non Jim Carrey) cannot match. Cinema demands continuous delineation of a story, comic books can make a transition from act1 to act2 with a few lines of text! The same "strong, silent" hero of the comic turns into a "taciturn, boring, inarticulate" hero of the movie - hardly endearing. Sometimes, the sheer weight of buries the franchise - Superman 1 & 2 rode on Christopher Reeves, but geeky charm can only do so much to prop a poor script.
The women fare even worse, the only kinds of women that seem to catch the public's imagination are house-trained witches who twitch their noses and ensure their hubby's success - why am I surprised.
In recent times there seems to have been a re-boot for many all-but-dead franchises, thanks to fantastic special effects, some tight scripts, extensive publicity and a hugely interested, younger audience in emerging markets.
Superman returning has had a mixed response with many probably viewing him as anachronistic - we all love to see our angst in our heroes. The undoubted success has been Spidey, captivating old and young with an endearingly geeky Tobey Macguire, appropriately contrite James Franco and enough special effects to annexe the next planet! But methinks they have outlasted their streak - Spidey 3 felt like Peter Parker 3* and there is no Tobey in the next one though the studios are threatening us with atleast 2 more!!!
Batman, the old favourite, who never quite seems to have gone away, is back, and as a hero quite close to the original comic and closer to evil than ever before. A posthumous Oscar for a painted face in a film with a hero dressed in tights - who knows? More power to Christopher Nolan!!!

Well-Intentioned...

I am not too sure of what this means - well-intentioned - because it usually manifests itself as "...in spite of well-meaning efforts..." or "well-intentioned efforts misfired...". Makes me wonder...are the actions mitigated just because the underlying effort was well-meant? Am not sure...
Often the best-laid plans go awry, because of certain actions - well-intentioned in most cases. I guess the most misanthropic of us cannot escape humanity's "social" evils.
We run and run, trying to get away from the billions on this planet, reducing our sphere of exertion/influence, restricting our interactions, staying out of others' way...but no...can't escape the teeming masses. Ok...fine...i'll talk to them masses...but where I have to...for the absolute essentials...NOT when its foisted on me...by....i knew you'd guess it... Well-Intentioned Efforts!!!

It doesn't work for me...period!!

A week after its release, I watched Jodhaa Akbar. I had already read most of the reviews, had heard the CD umpteen number of times and was pretty impressed with the teaser pictures shown ahead of the release. Hrithink and Aishwarya looked like a million bucks and it was an Ashutosh Gowariker picture, he of the Lagaan and Oscar fame.
Maybe it was the weight of expectation, but the film hardly lived up to the hype. The lead actors made a fine pair, very pleasant on the eyes and they do seem to have made an effort. But thats about all that works for the film. The screenplay appeared rushed, just a narrative rather than a perspective of Akbar's life. Akbar is whiter than the whitest and Jodhaa can't quite seem to decide which century she belongs in 15th or 21st!
Therein lies one problem, as I see it, with Jodhaa Akbar.Most period films (historical, mythological, war etc etc), have a basic tenet - transport the viewer back in time. This is a peculiar problem to deal with simply 'cos the sky was blue then, it is blue now. So how does the film maker or for that matter the film goer visualize the times gone by?
Of course, the movie makers have to recreate that particular time in history or "period" for us - this is done by putting up the same kind of costumes, recreating the hairstyles, the surroundings, the machines (or the lack of them). But, I suspect it has more to do with our perception of the past.
The visual medium associated with that age would colour my imagination of that age.
E.g:
Recent past (say 200 years or so) - sepia/black and white. Landscape - golden brown, the pace slower (so we assume), the people more innocent (we are sentimentalists!).
Europe in the middle ages - dark, gloomy,purple of the soutane, the renaissance paintings
Indian myth - sculptures from temples, descriptions of jewellery of the gods, ravi varma paintings (human-like gods)
This is a tough proposition for filmmakers, but one they have managed to overcome to varying degrees. Films use certain tones to depict a time in history and the entire production design is oriented towards this tone. Consistency is of importance and at no time or place can this be compromised. So the outdoors and the indoors have to reflect history, the mood of the movie and have to age accordingly. Advances in CGI have definitely helped and so have filters and processing techniques. I have no idea of what these techniques are and how they work, but when I sit in a darkened movie hall, I do want to get swept away, dress up in fancy costumes, fly with the gods, scheme with courtiers, dance at balls, and generally have a good time!
These movies worked for me...I guess there's lots more that can be added:No particular order

• Lord of the Rings - New Zealand, magical in itself, was burnished in gold, the Shire was bathed in fairytale green. Mordor was a frightening CGI creation of rumbling grey, scary black. Gondor was a spectacular white fortress in the mountains. Hobbits were plump, cheery and small, the Elves - ethereal, translucent, Lothlorien - timeless. Wizards were larger than life, orcs - hideous, ents - old, nazgul - not so scary, and the ring - alive. In short - almost as Tolkien wrote it and I imagined it!
• Schindler's list - Filmed in B&W, the cruelties of the war are presented as such, without emphasis, which in itself is frightening. Shot documentary style, the lighting and sets are stark, much like the photos of the Holocaust that serve as evidence of the horror. Handheld camera helped to emphasize the rawness and gave the movie an edge
  
• The English Patient - Sweeping vistas of the desert, glorious costumes from the tailor of the royals, light and shadow-play that gives flashbacks the softness of memories, the beauty of war-torn Italy - the scene in the church with its murals is splendid. The book on which it is based, had an epic sweep - set almost at the end of WW2, it moves across continents and exotic cultures with ease. The sets are fantastic and take us back to a happier time where boundaries didn't exist and the madness of war hadn't whittled everything down to a strife-torn minimum.
• Elizabeth - Shekar Kapur brought an Indian sensibility to the tale of the "Virgin" queen. Lofty overhead shots, dark, brooding sets punctuated by flashes of red, fiery oranges create a movie that exudes the power of its protagonist. Tudor history was presented without its cliches and the designs created a lush, courtroom spectacle where anarchy and chaos lurk around the corner and can even be glimpsed out of the corner of the eye.
  
• Lagaan - Painstakingly recreating an entire village set in a hazy time of pre-Independence India is no easy task, given the limitations in budget and technology that India usually faces. Lagaan's filmmakers setup a village in Bhuj and Bhanu Athaiya recreated the costumes of pre-independence India and sourced antique and musical instruments from around the country. The Kutch desert serves well as a drought stricken village and the dialect displaces it to somewhere in UP
• Guru - Biopics even if they claim not to be so, are a tough proposition. More so, when the lifetime in question coincides with a time of huge change in the surroundings. Guru, inspired by Dhirubai Ambani's life was as much a story of India post-1947, as of the man. The film moves from the sepia-laced 1950s to the bell-bottomed 1970s, to the cooler tones of the recent past, seamlessly. The costumes and hairstyles keep pace with the times. Particularly interesting is the recreation of the Mumbai sea-front of the 1950s. Props change too - from the tram of the 1950s to the long "imported" cars and Ambassadors of the pre-liberalization India.
• All the mythologicals of the 1960s in Tamil cinema (mostly A.P.Nagarajan) - I know...this is oh, so inappropriate! But then, these movies with their cardboard sets, gilt-laden jewellery/walls/swords, actors weighed down by kgs of make-up, were all that people in a country where legend is part of life, imagined divinity to be. They featured amongst other things, some of the best music of all time in Tamil cinema, recreated the grandeur of the heavens (as evidenced by our temples), in an age where the most challenging special effect was to show a man landing a punch on another.
  
• More of the list - I am too tired to write descriptions!
• Vanity Fair (Mira Nair version)
• 1947 -Earth, Water (especially the blue tones)
• Marie Antoinette
• Spartacus
• Gandhi
• Saving Private Ryan
• Pride and Prejudice (TV Series, since it features Colin Firth

Home...

Where do I go? Stuck in an unhappy marriage with here, self-imposed exile from there and perched on the edges of a wretched equilibrium between the two.
Waiting for something to happen, to disturb this state of affairs...its that elusive jolt, that seems to happen to others without any deliberate action! Why am I being denied this small peace of living in the city I love above all others!!!!!

Days...books...women!

March 8th is Women's Day! Being a Saturday, the world at large has decided to celebrate and mark the occasion a day earlier :-). My office has caught the mood too and we are having a celebration! Games, fun and frolic for the women it seems! I have a bunch of flowers on my desk and a poster wishing me. A few of my male colleagues wandered up to wish me and there was much mirth and giggling when some of the flowers and posters were transplanted to other "male" colleagues' desks (presumably to embarrass them).
Makes me wonder - what do I think of this day? Should I gush about being remembered along with books, lovers, fathers, mothers, pets, wearing odd socks, dances, talking like a pirate and sundry things? Or should I wrinkle my nose at it and say "...I hate there being just one day for women!..."? Truth to tell, I don't know. It does seem strange that half the world's population has been singled out for an international day! Like...nobody knew these women were around till the UN decided to call it a day (sorry...couldn't help it!)? Add to it, how is it marked? People send flowers, there are movies on tv, RJs call guys and ask them what they are gifting their wives/girlfriends for Women's Day! Its all considerably silly and incredibly shallow!
I included the "books" in the title 'cos of an article in the guardian about World Books Day - but it turns out that WBD is March 6th only for the world according to the British and the Irish. For the rest of us outside of the Empire, it is April 23rd. Being very lazy, I shall on the 23rd post one titled "Refer 8th March"! So long...

Love, Hate and sundry matters!

Is it too much to ask for some effort/understanding/sensitivity? I don't know who's at fault here...I just want people to look beyond the prickly obvious and understand the fear behind it. The fear of being hurt, betrayed, used...its overwhelming..especially in the face of uncertainty. Why shouldn't I question the intent at this stage- isn't it the obvious conclusion to make when making any effort appears so difficult for the other party? Across a distance, what else is the comfort or reassurance one draws other than the obvious gestures?
Don't they realize that the only way to protect myself is to be matter-of-fact and not let the turmoil and attachment escape and give me away? To let my emotions pour out would be giving them too much control on me - it would be apparent just how far gone I am, and the dependence would become too obvious...the other person would get to know of it and use it to their benefit...not a good situation, especially when there is a possibility that the other person could very soon come and tell you "...i don't think this is working...long distance...am seeing another person.." meaning "crumple and dump!".
What do i expect - i don't know. Am naturally distrustful of the situation, so nothing other than the extremely obviously romantic gestures will do - romantic being defined my way...not the conventional. Would I do something like this? Oh yes! I'd do a lot of these things - however difficult it might be to implement them. Not doing it in the name of practicality, seems like taking the easy way out. Even if it means taking the early morning, late night flights to be with that person, I'd do that...even it it meant manipulating meetings to suit this schedule, I'd do that...even if it meant taking calls from the boss in less than ideal circumstances, I'd do that. But, alas, thats me! Why can't somebody do these things for me?!!! :-(

Of the (Wo)men's movement!!!

The men it seems have decided to claim the women's movement for their own! The Hindu on Sunday, carried an article on the need for men in the women's movement. Now, this is not about progressive men including themselves in women's groups and feminist movements. This is about addressing men as a target audience for the feminist ideology.
Personally, I am ambivalent about the premise of the article. It states that there needs to be a specific, and concerted effort at including men in order to empower women. This is not a need to include men in women's groups - it is more an effort to educate men separately, convert more men to the empowerment ideology,so that there is "true gender equity".
While I agree that gender inequities cannot be addressed in isolation, it seems to me that its too presumptuous to cast men as "victims of patriarchy, as much as the women".I would be willing to be victimized indeed if it let me make the choices denied to half the planet, and let me abuse, subjugate and at the very least lead a better quality of life than half the human population.
The women's movement's first priority has to be women - men can come help, support and emancipate, but alongside us, not expecting to be treated any different, not expecting to be singled out for praise. Every human being, man or woman, who believes in equality and stakes their life on this belief, deserves thanks from the women's movement.
Every 7 minutes, a woman is raped in India - who's the victim here?! Its rather tough to go on about educating young boys and men on sex, gender and the need to treat a fellow human being with dignity, when you are in danger of being gang raped and worse! Education has done nothing to improve the behavior of men or the safety of women - every day the number of women who are in abusive marriages, without security, with children, with AIDS increases. And this is just the ones who have chosen to speak, out of desperation.
Believe me, I would love to have the boys of today, reared to be responsible men of tomorrow, but I would rather ensure enough girls get a chance to be born, reared and survive, till then. For the world would be drab, dreary, monotonous and lacking perspective without the woman to light it up.