Lisa! Better With Time...

the world is quite quiet. and there is din in my heart. i am relentless. i am restless. i wish to tear. and i shed a few. profound pules that no one but i can hear. i make sure that no one is looking, as i speak placidly to my inner voice. i scream. i shriek. i pray. she is siting cozily on the sofa. she notices my silence. she hears my voice when i mumble, a mutter, not so loud that any ear could hear. she looks at me and conveys with her doe-eyes “silence is the loudest cry”. as i vent my fears in type and script, she tries to draw my attention to her with a loud lisp. i type, with blasé attitude in solitude without interlude. she comes closer, and as i yawn stretching my legs and spreading it wide. she licks my feet. touches my leg with her hand. and jumps over me. demands and commands me to take a walk with her on a night that has a falcate moon shining on a lone sky. i scream at her. “leave me alone, cant you wait for a while. cant you see im busy” her eyes droop. she stoops.  she gets up from my lap. and moves on to take a catnap on her bed. i look at her from the corner of my cornea. as i look at her self-effacingly, i watch her pupils dilate and speak a dialect that no one but she understands. she notices me looking, alarmed,  she looks elsewhere in remonstration. “don’t show me your fucking attitude”, i grin. she acts as a soubriquet of gandhi sporting a “hear no evil” outlook. it doesn’t matter to her at all.  i love her. she knows that. and she takes advantage of that. i am helpless. why should i budge always? why should i dance to her tune? why should she have her way every time? my mom tells me that today, girls outfox boys. and i am so with mom at this.  i get up and walk with her. she whistles, i bow. she pilots, i fly. wherever she takes me, she can, i oblige with no dissent at all. 

she is a darling. and she is mine. yes she is over smart at times. and a little too lazy. but that wont stop my loving her. one look at her. and all my pain goes absconding.

here is she,   

this is Lisa Iyer, tell me isn’t she a darling. isn’t she the sexiest any one has seen? 

just as pretty as  Kiara Dẻ and Nellie Eileen… o! i have their pics too. and since this post is about Lisa, let me put up her friends pics too…

        ... Ms. Neelie Eileen

                                                    ... Ms. Kiara Dẻ

(...now women, I said NO… no petty catfight about who is the prettiest. Ok?) 

after licking me off my pain, she lingers on it… i touched her breast a week back. i found a lump. yesterday, i took her to her doctor. the often carefree lisa, was vexed. like she knew what was in the offing. the doctor pressed her breasts and told me that she is braving breast cancer. i had seen this happen in my most shuddery dream. and i knew this was impending. but, how i wish my dream didn’t come true. the surgeon told me that she needs to be operated upon and the lump needs to be removed. i could feel the lump on my chest.  i didn’t speak a word. and she licked me then. smiling, she was abreast, with a pile on her breast. ohh my dog. i told her as tears trickled down my cheeks. bitch was a word that typified a sewer swear; now it meant sheer seerness.  the doctor told me smilingly she will outlive you. she will be there eternally. 

we are shifting base next week to kharghar in new bombay. and now she is unwell. i am worried. i wanted to take her along in the new place and run around in the lush green valleys there. but now she will have to be operated, no sooner we reach there. how will she cope? i was hanging in the desultory of hopelessness. again, fear swathed me. the doctor assured me that lisa would be fine. but my mind wandered mindlessly. then suddenly, a thought occurred, i saw light. i thought of the many angels in the sky who say amen  and thatha-asthu. i saw hope in times of grope. the spark of a positive thought shone bright in windy wilderness. i could see clearly. my lisa. my happy lisa. my happy and healthy lisa.  

i wish to ask my blogdosts for a little favour.

if you could utter “Lisa will be fine. she will get well soon” twice or more times. with the ripple effect of the positive thought. lisa will be alright. kiddish it may sound. but it helps. and speaking myth-o-logically, if angels say thatha-astu/amen, then inshallah! she, the daughter of a gay man will be blessed with the pink of health. :-)

will you do this for me and my kid? 

Sada Green Chak De!

click on the image to make it badaa. there is message in the RightDown corner. 

This blogpost is dedicated to my sweet and suave foodie BlogDost Shobhaa De. 

"Mumbai Meri (mein no) Jaan" & "!!"

here is a review that i had written for the iview section of passion for cinema. i was resisting the temptation to post the same here. in pfc, as a rule, i need to wait for 7 days before posting the same elsewhere. 

Bombay Meri Jaan 

(I prefer bombay to mumbai... raj, bal, uddhav! come, arrest me)

mumbai meri jaan received positive reviews from bollywood’s media critics. lot of hype and great reviews. but i am not content. probably because there was too much content. i beg to differ from all the other reviewers, mumbai meri jaan was quite an “ordinary” film. i expected a fantastic movie, which would be chilling and packed with emotions. there were none. there were some shots which were nice. but i found the film director nishikant lost between the many characters he wanted to depict. 

the director wants to tell so many stories. 
a madrasi chaiwala: irfan khan who makes hoax calls and spreads bomb scare in malls, as he was insulted and thrown out by a shop owner, in the “new” bombay mall (“mumbai” meri jaan???) “center one”. 
a tv news reporter: soha ali khan is a reporter of the channel “tv news” (which uses brand colours of times now. subtle branding/sabotaging??). she does her “duty” by sensationalizing everything, until she loses her fiancé to the bomb blasts. and the same channel tries to use her to create sensationalizing news. 
a today’s patriot: r madhavan, who gives up foreign plans in his love for mother india and faces the psychological aftermath after escaping the blast, unaffected. 
a head constable: paresh rawal, who metamorphoses from an immoral cop to someone with a strong moral conscience. 
a rebel: kay kay menon, who is a hindu sadak-chap guy turns anti-moslem post the blasts, by the end of the movie he turns empathetic towards moslems. 

(does this plot sound new? at least, to me it doesn’t)

i expected reality. i got to see a “film”, where all characters (except soha) were acting. the acting was filmy. the music was filmy. the background score was filmy. screenplay and dialogues were very very filmy. the camera angles… well, where there were tight shots needed, they made do with wide angle shots, where there were wide angle shots needed there were close ups. irfan khan and kay kay have acted really well, and irfan is someone who looked at ease with the character that he was playing, he could well be the saving grace of the film. but, the director put some jhintaak bollywoodish music as a background score in one of the scenes and sabotaged the efforts of these bundles of talents. 

the direction was bad. the director has spoilt the screenplay with his insensitive treatment. the result: the movie is neither a hard-hitting reality movie, nor it is, an out-and-out bollywood movie. this movie hangs somewhere in between. and it doesn’t touch you. 

i wonder how all critics have given it a good rating. well, that’s what we call herd-mentality i guess. or whats a better word. ripple effect.

!!

rock on!! is worth the two exclamation marks. as i moved out of the theatre, i carried the experience; it continued to linger in my mind. excellent screenplay, fantastic performances, a complex orchestra of emotions, and every emotion etched out very clearly. the result: rock on!! is a melodious journey. 

bang on! the audience connects with the film right from the titling stage. it’s evident that there has been a lot of thought applied on projection of the brand “rock on!!”. the story went back and forth in time, without losing its connection with the audience.


rock on!! does what jhankar beats couldn’t? it merges passion with compassion. frankly, i never appreciated rock before. i expected a loud show. thought of it as an alias for insanity. but here, it didn’t matter to me if what was played was rock or jazz or whatever. simply, loved the experience. 

i have to mention that this about farhan, the actor. he was at ease with his character. there wasn’t one moment in the movie where i felt that he was acting. he was natural. the film was believable. abhishek kapoor has done a good job. shabana was good. really good. prachi has acted well (but there was nothing for her to do anyways in the movie). i was disappointed by arjun, i feel he didn’t look that comfortable with the guitar. the ones who stole my heart were purab and luke. luke was the true true rock star. if you compare him to farhan, luke was far far far better than farhan. this doesn’t imply that farhan was bad. it implies though, that luke was better. purab is another star one needs to watch out. he is the best sidekick any film could be ornamented with. who is the hero of the film? it is undeniably luke. 

besides, this movie does justice to all the characters, all definite, precise and sharp and none of the characters looked over-the-top or forced.. and thanks to the fantastic cinematic genes and upbringing of farhan, son of honey and javed and step son of shabana, the producer farhan, didn’t take extra mileage. he has not been selfish and made this movie his acting portfolio, he has been non-dominating and has told a story, very well.

but, but, but… still, this movie is not a classic. it will be forgotten in a few years. nevertheless, it is a nice film. commercially, it is doing well. it is an urban movie, like what dil chahta hai was. 

nice film. take some time off from the hustle-bustle of life, watch this movie. treat yourself.

~ Aham

Ohh My God!

we live a country where gods have no voice. 

buy a non-eco friendly ganpati. god will bless you for illtreating him. go ahead?

*thanks rohit for sending me this email. 

Ganesh!… I Love You Too

what are you thinking?? i’m talking about lord Ganesh. i love him, immensely and completely. but i don’t go to the temple often. i don’t brave the serpentine queue on tuesdays outside siddhivinayak temple to see him. i don’t go to pandals and don’t give any donations (willfully).

i am helpless, don’t know how to communicate to him. 

i don’t own a pandal. i don’t play sexy sexy mujhe log bole and zabaan pe laaga and other erotic numbers for him and his blessed devoted  bhakts. i don’t make an attempt to play music so loud that gods in heaven could hear.  i don’t play housie, lotto or tambola. i don’t drink alcohol behind the pandals in the night when god is asleep. i don’t wait with baited breath for bunty’s (babe+aunty) or duncles (dude+uncle) to grace the pandaal with their organic and orgasmic presence. then how could god be pleased? how will god ever be happy with me, minus all of the above? am i cursed? or am i overtly idealistic. anyways, i know that i am different. different towards the indifferent. 

i’m not the herd, i choose to be heard. and i have right to choose what i want to hear. it’s a free world. i live in a free country. a democratic country. we have laws. but god damn laws. 

one side we have rock on. one side we have rassi bomb. rock on is a welcome sabbatical, rassi bomb is fanatical. and gods are involved in both. both see god in rock. 

and that’s what we have minimized god to. “a rock”. a rock that has no emotion, no sadness, no elation. 

i wish to tell you Ganesh, i empathize with you. and i feel bad for you. for your namesake bhakts are involved in unparallel piety with zilch pity towards you, the deity. they engage in a gaudy flaunt of what they feel is godly. do you call this ignorance Ganesh? sorry my beloved little tusker, i beg to differ, i choose to call it arrogance and not ignorance. 

the rogue is in vogue. religion today, is passion, is fashion, once upon a time it was compassion. 

Ganesh is the most humane god. and you choose to kill fishes by polluting their habitat by using harmful chemicals to paint the idols. options unavailable? we are a country who set paradigms in design, art, science, humanities and architecture. are we so wisped intellectually and creatively?  we can’t think of eco-friendly options? but, who will put in that extra effort? rather the real question is… why put in that extra effort? you might not feel for those fishes. for you might be a fish-eater and might argue that a fish is a fish is a dish. but, what about the fisher folk? what about their business? what about the child of a fisherman who looks at the catch with ravenous eyes, for if the catch is good, the sale is good, would he get his tummy fill morsel of food.  irrespective of whether i approve of the fishing vocation or not, i have a grand echelon of commiseration with the fisher folk. 

and we call ourselves educated, what happened to the text books of 4^th grade when we learnt about preservation of eco-system. and we had a chapter in 9^th standard about flora and fauna, biogeochemical cycles? all forgotten and forgone? and we are educated? really? if you have passed 9^th grade and laze around in the brilliance of ignorance towards the apathy of mother earth, to me you are a mindless and uneducated.  

and i am fermenting in angst because it concerns me. irrespective, whether you are in tokyo or timbuktu, if you harm the ecosystem, it affects me. now that the earth gives us the stimuli we have responses. but what when there is no stimulus?  what if you have no time to respond? what if mother earth gives up after being bruised, battered, and raped by humans? all in the name of god! 

will “my” friend Ganesh help you?