The game is set

Its one of those times, when puzzled by questions that attack me from within every second, I get up to seek answers. The catalyst this time was a conversation with a dear one, a song and sheer overwhelming realisation of the fact that I am turning 30 sooner than I imagined.

Mixed feelings of these incoherent facts and on goings of my random life bring me back to faith again like many times. As a believer, I bring my woes many times into prayers just like I thank every time I can sense the support of divine and today again it makes me realise I need to gear up and take charge.

Cribbing and whining are not the best solutions and for a person like me surely living for long in self pity is hellish. The journey in dark has ended, the way forward for me is lit though i will need to give it my all, am glad I can see  the path.

I thrive on few things like richness of language, music and philosophy - these in some way help me take the next big step or enjoy the motion. I was working overnight today much against my health and will and this song from Natrang (Marathi movie) called Khel Mandala (literally meaning The game is set) struck a chord quite deep in my heart and soul. It is a pink indian curry much like my other blogs as the flavour is maharastrian but the meaning is universal... thus the translation hope you all enjoy

Khel Mandala

Video link of Khel Mandala on youtube 

Tujhya paayarishi kuni saan thor nhai
Saad sunya kaaljachi tujhya kaani jaai

All are equal at your doorstep...
Only you can listen to the elegy of a lonely heart

Hey.. Tari deva sara na yo bhog kasha pai
Haravali waat disha andharalya dhaai

Then why doesn't the suffering end, my Lord?
The path is lost, darkness engulfs all directions..

Bavaaloon udhalato jeev maaya baapaa
Vanvaayo oori petla...

Fear grips and ravages me, O father…
There is a forest-fire raging in my heart

Khel Mandala, Khel Mandala…
khel mandala, Deva… Khel Mandala!

The game is set, O Lord, the game is set...

Sandaliga reet waaj ghetla vasa tujha
Tuch vaat dakhiv ga khel mandala
Daavi deva pail paar paathishi tu raha ubha
Yo tujhyach umbaryat khel mandala

We have forsaken all traditions and took your oath
You have to show us the way, for the game is now set..
Stand by us in all circumstances, O God...
For we have set the game in your courtyard...

Hey… Usavala ganagot saara, Aadhar kunacha nhai
Bhegaalalya bhooi pari jeena angaar jeevala jaali

The fabric of my life is all unwoven, there is no one I can rely on...
Flaming hot coals burn my body, as if the sun scalds the barren cracked earth

Bala de zhunjaayala kirpechi dhaal de
Inaveeti pancha praan, jeevarhat taal de

Give me the strength to fight, and the shield of compassion…
I ask for mercy, please give me the rhythm of your soul

Karapala raan deva, Jalala shivaar
tari nhai dheer sandala... Khel mandala...

The forest has burnt to ashes, and the temple is ablaze...
Even then I haven't lost hope, my Lord, for the game is set...

Music: Ajay-Atul

Lyrics: Guru Thakur

Translation: Sidharth Wagh

khwahish

ke hothon se lagke dhuaan hum bhi ho jaayein

teri tishnagi se ek din yun sulag jaayein

rahe bas raakh baaki  har baar teri chhuan ke baad

zindagi yunhi teri talab ban hum bitaayein

My name is change

You can call this a review of My Name is Khan for a lack of any better term but it remains my creative self expression (CSE). This term defines the movie My name is Khan for me.

It is creative self expression of a filmmaker who is growing beautifully into someone who thinks, loves and understands Cinema and its dynamics - Karan Johar. It is CSE of an actor who is making choices now that form and expand his legacy of being the most loved star of India today – SRK. It is CSE of an actress so brilliant that her mere presence on screen is more precious than the enormous fees that some queens of Bollywood rake up annually - Kajol.

Not that they are not flawed in this film, it is human and they have erred at places. Karan Johar loses the grip at times with not so crisp editing, some camera angles and usage of music affects the story movement – the whole hurricane incident looks forcefit to take Khan to the President and end the film. The setup in america alienates the film to Indian audience to quite a degree. Shahrukh’s performance is brilliant but the character’s disability is not practically etched. Kajol is sunshine on screen but her character again shows no insight into how and why she bonds with this different man. Now that the nitpicking is done, let’s get back to the good part.

My name is Khan is not KKHH, K3G or KANK, neither does it want to be nor does the audience today want it that way. The world is fast changing and truth of today needs to be brought to the big silver screen. This movie attempts to do so more than any RGV flick being dished out in the name of real cinema.

All said and done, My name is Khan is CSE of the change that we all are facing today and our beliefs through a medium we all connect to – a film. I saw My name is Khan with a kashmiri muslim single woman who i call baji (elder sister in Urdu). It was two of us with little to do on Saturday without our usual bunch of friends and party hopping drive. We entered the theatre on second weekend not because of the controversy or being an ardent fan of cast & crew mentioned above. It was because we both wanted to see what Indian cinema is dishing out today.

We saw Rizwan, smiled through his journey from Mumbai to America. His world was different to say the least. His world reflected our core beliefs in goodness of all humanity- something we expect out of an Iranian or European cinema – not Indian of course. He coped with his fears much like all of us once we leave homes and face the world – something we see in American and british entertainment dished to us through satellite invasion. His hopes were shattered due to a bigger event (death of Kajol’s son) so much like our lives which go through constant upheavals due to bigger changes (every family has had a death that changed lives connected with the deceased). Rizwan didn’t choose to yet move ahead in life and pretend that no change affects him. He dealt with the changes and explored his connection as a change maker upholding his belief through every situation.

We had both seen forrest gump enough number of times but this wasn’t him. It was Rizwan Khan clearly – his identity echoing every Indian muslim who ventures out hoping to camouflage his difference due to misnomers of the masses hungry to brand them violent, regressive etc.

When we left the auditorium, we could reflect on the issue rather than talk about the scenes, length of the movie, acting, cinematography or xyz that we would normally discuss. It was back to our lives where her identity as follower of Islam and all its rights were never questioned as much as my being a hindu (Nicherin Buddhist practitioner) and wrongs of Shivsena. We could see and agree that it has been a norm to see muslims in a wrong light more easily for quite a while now in our daily lives too. There is a certain hitch that a hindu landlord in Mumbai feels while renting his apartment to a Muslim family.

I remembered the times she has told us about the peace loving aspect of Islam along with Zakaat and other heartening aspects being misinterpreted. I remembered her anger every time some discrimination happened to the good stick figures with candy because of evil stick figures with canes. The movie was over and we had changed. We were conscious of our identities – good people who must convey it to others in no uncertain terms that we choose to be good. Our way forward was clear too - to be with good throughout life.

The movie might be considered good, bad or ugly – a blockbuster or just a marketing case study, it gave me just one heartening thought thanks to Karan Johar & Shahrukh. Our names might be Samina, Praful, Savio or Surjit – we are all khans. We all have to be the change we want to see outside in the world

Time stands still - my first haiku

I am in a moment that stays frozen
There's no motion, no action
only lack of it, fills the horizon

It peers at me and look back at it in awe
as if trying to acquaint with each other

dahshat aur ibaadat - my dedication as a witness to 26/11

Jisse kar chukka tha main dafn
Kyun wo phir se zinda ho chala
Ho gayi thi jis dard ki saansein khatm
Kyun laut aaya hai phir woh gila

Hai shikan peshaani pe daag ki tarah ab jadi si
Yeh aah hai shayad meri rooh ki jo arsse se thi gadi si

Koi cheelta ho jaise zakhmon ki paratein
Yaad karne pe us qahar ka ahsaas yun bhi hota hai
Kahin dah gaya qaba jaise ruk gayi ibadatein
Baad marne ke kya zahar ka ahsas yun bhi hota hai?

firaaq –e-aman mein chain kahaan Qaatil ko
Dozaqh nahin use bas talaash hi haasil hai
khoon-e-maasoom se sane haath dua mein uth jaaye to
woh qayamat kya kisi deen ki manzil hai?

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear- how do you measure a year?

This is the song that my soul sings today at crossroads of old and new. I am still the same old and new alike but life is changing. It is not just a digit that changes every year, it is more. I look back at last year, its days and nights. The people that 2009 brought into my life and the ones it took away. I am numb right now, cos i cannot unleash it all, i am scared of the aftermath of emotional tsunami rather tidal wave of thoughts.

I began in on auto mode, went on to learn my lessons in professional life and began questioning everything. I asked this year about my decisions, my purpose, my potential, my limitations, my dear ones and the ones i stay away from. I asked this year at every step and moved ahead as myself - praful. Not a friend who does what others want him to do, Not a son who abides by the rules, Not an employee who fills in the hours and delivers whats expected. I dreamt,I learnt, I became myself again. Yes, I failed more than before and that got me so close to truth of life and that made my struggles fiercer, victories more joyful and perched my thirst of existence with ambrosia of purpose and faith. Its my vision, my feelings, my understanding of people's joys, sorrows, habits and desires that makes 2009 for me. 4 digits that encompass a plethora of milestones for me, for those who are mine and for humankind. It never was before and never will be again- a year, the moments, the tapestry of miracles clustered into days, months and lives.

2009 will be etched in my heart as a beautiful symphony not bittersweet but just blissful as it is. A melody playing against the backdrop of a breakup, unemployment, realisations of how I can be a better brother, nostalgia of all the spellbinding movies, books and stories. 2009 will never be anything else and makes the perfect predecessor for all that 2010 stands for. I am ready for newer ecstasies and agonies. I stand pondering at the possibilities and my plans. A song plays on my mind thats wise, nice and sums it all better than I ever could. let me know how you like it . Happy 2010, may you be loved, successful, happy, peaceful and wise. May you conquer your own inner world and emerge vistorious in every struggle, stronger and more determined to live the essence of life - love.


From OST of the movie "The Rent"

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love.

525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes - how can you measure
the life of a woman or man?

In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or the way that she died.

It’s time now to sing out, tho the story never ends let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends. Remember the love! Remember the love! Remember the love! Measure in love. Seasons of love! Seasons of love

wtf! Ajab prem is fab

Funky. Funny. Fictional. Familiar. Filmy. Flimsy. First grade. Fresh. Formula. Flawed. Fast-paced. Fantasy. Feel good. Far fetched. Fantastic. I know these are more F words than one finds in a Shobha De Novel but it’s my way to describe a movie as unique as Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani.

APKGK (as it is called here onwards) marks return of Raj Kumar Santoshi – the funny man who tickled our bones.... oops the man who tickled our funny bones with Andaz apna apna many years ago. His other ventures like Ghayal, Ghatak Damini, Lajja & Khakee have all been impactful films where his vision clearly outshines strong performances which he is known for. In APKGK however it’s difficult to say who is a bigger winner – the puppet - Ranbir or the puppeteer - Raj Kumar Santoshi.

In APKGK, the duo R&R (Raj Santoshi & Ranbir) bring alive a protagonist who is naive at the core but clever on surface like so many of us. He is champ of his own game but loser in real sense. His world is mundane and small but he is larger than life as everything revolves around him and his deeds. This is what makes APKGK different.

Now coming to the story, well there’s hardly any but it ain’t the case of regular Bollywood funda of the makers wanted to make something else, but script turned out different, stars threw tantrums and finally film ended up without a real story. It’s an integral part of the experience where Prem’s kahaani was to be ordinary if wasn’t set in his quirky crazy world. So story takes a backseat and we venture into Prem’s world, his ability to laugh away his Dad’s ire, his need to be leader of the loser clan, his love that is unspoken and his brilliance of being himself. Clever screenplay does the trick.

Narrative is as zany and unique as Prem’s insanity – that keeps the film from being a sad, dramatic – loser in love tale that Tusshar Kapoor is a posterboy of. A talking statue in middle of the town narrating the most bizarre love story while a journo cleans the droppings off his back – beat that. If that’s not chuckle worthy bizarre – get your sense of humour back on guys – David Dhawan variety tales of infidelity and Priyadarshan’s supposed ensemble cast sit com’s do not a funny film make

R&R bring to us hilarity in clean fun manner without dragging like the mother using her charm on father to save son in her hema malini style seductive voice and father singing to please her – such cuteness, Ranbir wearing katrina’s top and meeting the prospective bride’s family, villains and Ranbir’s planning of same attire for same kidnapping task , the non veg eating scene, job scenario as halwai’s assistant, climax fight at villain’s den - all bring a big time chuckle. Intelligent dialogues, First rate music and few well handled emotional moments along with Katrina (who says more than 10 lines in a movie for the first time I guess) all make APKGK – a must see even if its a one time watch for most people.

Editing is patchy, background music cool, cinematography inconsistent, art direction is class, choreography and costumes are above average too but AGKPK shows how when a director is true to the subject and a producer understands the tone of the movie to use it in marketing, what great results come in. The movie made me forget the woes of a hard day at work and surely was entertaining in true sense. As far as those who measure originality by story – dudes, jaane tu ya jaane na also had a cliché plot, so did guru at the face of it but great technical team, actors and effective marketing made these films distinct and memorable. Lets say that ajab prem and his ghazab kahaani both get a thumbs up from me... Kudos R&R, filmfare is awaiting you J

Ode to the Nice Guys

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny

/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

Pain

We all talk of it and have experienced it in some way or the other. The four letter P word figures very easily in our vocabulary till realisation strikes some times of pain greater than your own. I saw it recently on face of a friend I had to lie to after years of companionship. It was not his pain or mine. It just was one flame that engulfed our cores, stirred us to great depths, disconnected us from the whole world. Such is its power. Such is its effect. Be it an infant separated from mother or an old man who has his family by his death bed, they are connected with and by pain. No, this write up isn’t an account of ordeals I suffered in life or a self pity mission that I plan to achieve attention or empathy.

It’s a result of one of those pensive moments etched in words where I wonder what took me so long to explore or write down my relation with pain, how I see it, know it or just what I think of it.

Its deep. Its cheap. All have it and none wants it. Some bear it and a few bare it. Some enjoy and some abhor it. Pain comes in all forms – mental, physical and spiritual. A sudden capture or slow spiral descent into break down, pain accompanies a human from origin to the end. Its companionship yet is not praised, neither respected nor understood.

Be it the auditory assault of a friend’s heartbreak or sensory delight of an opera, pain is a constant with change. We all know that change is always painful but never acknowledge the fact that it is also the cause of all growth and development. Now to think isn’t Pain pained from all the years of abuse when it is a universal equaliser. Why isn’t the beauty of eyes filled with pain praised as much as a chuckle full of noise? Why do we all think that those who are immune to pains are lucky? wouldn’t life be numb and incomplete without it?

It was pain that made me struggle all these years, learn, work and never look back at the life of ignorance and misery that my distant suburb offered me. It was pain that made me let go of love and give it meaning much grander than togetherness. It is pain of hurting others, pain of wrong doings, pain of failures that leads me to right course everyday. It’s the pain of sanity and perfection that helps me fight stagnancy and choice of a mediocre existence. It is the pain that I feel that reverberates in my mind as decisions and determinations. I fight yet to get rid of the old pains and then deal with the new ones life brings. Moving from the pains of fitting in to pains of standing out, I know today that if pain is a four letter word – so is life.

Main hoon...

hoon khada ek baar phir us daayre mein
jahaan reh gaya sirf gunahgaar hi baaqi
na khud se aashna, na khuda se hi waqif
sirf ek mera aks hai jo barsa raha hai
kuch aise faisle, kai aise hisaab jo shariat ke pare hain
par mujhe qubool hai yeh anjaam ke kuch fitrat hi aisi hai
kuch aise hi kudrat ne gada hai apne is bande ko

26/11-Truth Behind Mumbai Terrorist Attacks Dispatches - Terror In Mumbai

Too quick Too murugan I say!

Imagine Tamil Nadu instead of Texas. Imagine a Cow boy who is vegetarian and protects cows. Imagine a local goon who is tamil rowdy with afro wig. Imagine bullet fight that brings thrills of Rajnikant gun fights to this set up.

Thats where we begin the joyride of Quick Gun Murugan and further on it goes whackier, crazier, insane but intelligent and entertaining all through out. Quick Gun Murugan is not for those with weak palate. A heady mix of tamil, english and very little hindi, this movie spoofs stereotypes alongside making statements so smartly that its dark humour is packaged in eastman colour.

The Smart gun here being director Shashank Ghosh who gets thumbs up from me for pulling off what would have been a series of incoherent plots in hands of any other director given the same script. He uses the cliches and turns them around with such zest that result is outrageous like the typical 80s tamil film "Brothers/ friends meet after many years" sequence where bank employee elder brother and Quick gun both have a gun fight at home and the sister in law looks upon dotingly at both.

Also the quirkiness of QGM coming back from the dead, vinay being Mr. C gupta - chitragupta and depicting nymphs having dance rehearsal sessions, Locket lover - Lola Kutty's portions, Rambha's character dressed in Pink all throughout, Post coital payasam, Rowdy MBA helping retail chain owned by rogues, Best Dosa Making Mummies kidnap sequence, tiffin terrorist attacks... all are first rate in laughs. Music, art direction, camera, SFX all go with the mood of the movie though personally I think the length could have been curtailed a bit and Nassir been given something better to do as Rice Plate reddy

I recommend the movie for a dull evening with a large bunch of friends preferably one or two south indians to further dwell on the jokes from the film like the board in background of a sequence : "Institute of Coconut Tree Climbing" and Sohaib Illyasi act of Ranveer "Ab Jail ki salaakhon ke peeche Maut ki laal chutney peeso"

Watch it. I Say!