A happy fly..

Pose with Poise and walk to fly.

2012-01-20T23:07:00.000-08:00

“He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying. ”

-Friedrich Nietzsche.
(Petrol in my car. I ought to be careful for it catches fire very quickly)

Greatness

2011-12-02T04:37:00.001-08:00

Day after Mahatma Gandhi died.

The chief immersion ceremony took place at Allahabad , in the United Provinces, at the confluence of the sacred Ganges, the Jumna and the Saraswati. A special train of 5 third class carriages left Delhi at 4 A.M. on 11 February; Gandhi always travelled third.

Reading Louis Fischer, The life of Mahatma Gandhi. After being stung by Agha Shahid Ali's poetry, which gave me the poetry fever and in the heat of which I bought myself Shakespeare and Modern Critical interpretations- A mid summer night's dream by Harold Bloom. I now regret for not having enough time to read, but definitely on my list of books to read in 2012 and if the world decides on not coming to an end I might have a chance of getting rid of my regret/s and feel a hollow sense of accomplishment. I now spend my free time by drinking a couple of pages of this superb Biography before going to bed. Really.

And in French

2011-09-20T12:47:00.000-07:00

Still life- Red flowers and poppies, Gogh, 1890

Them, you and me

When we talk of love,

Why do we do?

Flowers and a crazy dove.

It got dull and boring

Hostel room, on a regular day

You and me, sat reading

in a dirty, rusting, sack of hay.

You thought it funny if

were awful smelly feet,

abruptly thrown in my lap

and gruff my read

swear I, you were to get a slap.

Smelled the reek of fish

Stale and fried

A surgeon’s pressure stockings

Never washed and dried.

Smiled sheepishly, you

folded them away.

Cooling my anger
I minded my own way

On a day as today

I remember fondly

And if I look astray

its cuz’ I miss you so badly.

I don't know

When they talk of love

Why do they do?

Flowers and an albino dove.

They have tried,

tried and tried again,

to fit it right. Unending quench.

in paintings, plays, songs,

and in French.

Nothing is more romantic

than a simple memory of you.

Now, that you’re across Atlantic

Don’t know how better to say,

I love you.

Easy, without drama.

2011-07-09T12:10:00.000-07:00

And simple
and sweet.

Like afternoon tea.

A day without T.V.

Lemonade from life's handpicked sour lemons.

An ant swimming for the edge of a leaf, and crawling away to life again.

A quiet morning.

Going around a Gulmohar tree looking for flowers on the ground.

Looking for a buzz kill when you have to act sober,

and not being able to find one.

Much like listening to Sting and trying to sleep.

First pair of eye glasses and the world wasn't blurry anymore.

Like Rain.

When you picked that flower from the ground and held it in your hands, it's colours so bright and new that everything else became non-descript.
That moment.

But you didn't know what to do with it so, you tucked it in the back pocket of your rugged jeans.
It now makes every place you go, look Beautiful.
Like Love.

Blaked!

2011-02-14T01:44:00.000-08:00

In a land of icons and tag lines Cupid isn't very happy. Blake tries to figure out why but his POV turns into a totally different yet refreshingly sane set of questions. Yes, even after 184 years of being dead he is still making sense. From the one who gave this blog it's name here's an amusing take on the icon of love.

A man tries to capture
“Jeune fille s’evadant”(Girl escaping)
by Joan Miro.

Why was cupid a boy ?

Why was Cupid a boy,
And why a boy was he?
He should have been a girl,
For aught that I can see.

For he shoots with his bow,
And the girl shoots with her eye,
And they both are merry and glad,
And laugh when we do cry.

And to make Cupid a boy
Was the Cupid girl's mocking plan;
For a boy can't interpret the thing
Till he is become a man.

And then he's so pierc'd with cares,
And wounded with arrowy smarts,
That the whole business of his life
Is to pick out the heads of the darts.

'Twas the Greeks' love of war
Turn'd Love into a boy,
And woman into a statue of stone--
And away fled every joy.

 - William Blake, 1793.

FOB. (the film)

2011-02-07T12:10:00.000-08:00

I wish it were spelt FAB.

From Apu to Aloo there's little that has changed for fobs and more importantly there's little they can do to change it. Here's a brilliant attempt (posted below), a 4 minute long film by Arati Misro

P.S.-I would've never posted a Youtube video here but I think this one qualifies as an exception. Or maybe because I was requested/suggested by the uploader to do so. It brings me to ask a rather unrelated question that why does it have a mocking 375 views? It's a decent film. I mean, definitely way better than those remotely funny rants which funnily though, for no proper reason known to mankind, get a million views (seriously, they make me wanna go back and check the dictionary for what really defines "funny"). But then we have superbly expressive uploads such as this one. Well, I guess it takes all kinds!

Eat sound, sleep little.

2011-01-25T03:52:00.000-08:00

For those who know the correct proverb, the title might sound silly or even cheeky. But, have to admit, it does make (some?) sense. Folks, this could very well be my last post about food on a decent and very bookish blog and I've decided that I'll not let it turn into a food diary. So, no more posts about food. I mean after this one ;p.

Here's a picture of oatmeal Sponge cookies I made a while ago. The cookies didn't turn out to be very delicious but hey, they weren't bad. In fact totally edible. Anyway, I was looking for something in my chaotic/unorganized/eccentric/fitful/has-a-mind-of-it's-own laptop and stumbled upon this picture. And oh ! I can't remember the recipe. For those interested in making it two words for you "Google it".

Where were you..

2011-01-17T13:05:00.000-08:00

What is it like to fall in love with your favorite rock band all over again? I now know.
Coming back to life was, is and will remain my best liked song from Pink Floyd.
The lyrics get to me every time. Don't have the slightest idea why. Maybe because they're strikingly simple. Discounting the fact that simplicity IS the utmost sophistication.

There's something about the English musicians. They have so much soul. When Sting, endowed with an unprecedented talent for understanding the beauty of human vocals, topped the list of worst lyricists I can't possibly hint that they're the best. I am not even getting into a debate of the sorts. Not that I am afraid of it (avoidant maybe), definitely not offended by criticism, non-worshiping approach to my favorite artist, or opinions that do not match mine but still, the idea of scrolling down on a youtube video of my much loved band fills me with contempt. I mean what kind of a person dislikes this song!!
While I certainly cannot call Floyd the most talented band in rock history, they were certainly the greatest experimentators esp. with philosophical lyrics and engineered sounds.

An accidental encounter with my "once upon a time" most liked song has got me singing it night and day. Again.

Greetings, Mortals !

2011-01-02T02:01:00.000-08:00

Don't speak.

2010-12-17T10:50:00.000-08:00

A friend sent me this.

Ha ha ha ha ha. Feel like tagging myself.
I wonder if it's singing Queen- " I want to ride my bicycle". Ha ha ha.
Totally made my day.

The Secret to a hasselfree Indian dish

2010-11-14T12:28:00.000-08:00

And world domination..

Once again for my lazier-than-a-sunbathing-hippo friends, an Indian recipe.
Kadhi
1) You need one cup yoghurt/curd.
2) Mix 4 tablespoons gram flour in the yoghurt.
I mean mix and not add. Now go back and mix it well.
Do you see any lumps?
-Yes? Congos! You can now go back to watching your t.v. and forget about the dish.
-No? Hmm.. Alright, we're on it.
3) Add a pinch of turmeric and some salt to the paste.
4) Heat a tiny bit of oil in a pan and add some mustard seeds (let them fizzle), red chili, a pinch of asafoetida (for those saying "what foetida" - don't even bother to look for it in your kitchen. I know it's not there besides, it can be done without it)
5) Pour the yoghurt mix in the pan and add some water to it . Let it to come to a boil.
It's done.
Now, get some bread/chapati/rice and tuck in !
Or Invite friends for dinner and it's your turn to rule the world.

P.S. Of course, there are variations a many, requiring more spices and veggies (read hassle). I wanted to keep it quick and easy.

Just a bottle opener.

2010-11-08T03:12:00.000-08:00

Reading Upanishads on day offs and trying to make sense.

Following is a story from the Brhadaranyaka Upanishad.

The great seer of the times (somewhere between 400 to 800 BC), Yajnavalkya, was once visiting king Janaka. King Janaka being a very learned man himself had an immense thirst for seeking self knowledge. He asked the reverent sage to pass on some of that divine knowledge and enlighten him.

The discourse that took place between the two in the king's court is here;
King Janaka asked Yajnavalkya ; Tell me, what is it, that lights my human experience?
Yajnavalkya: Sun. We get up, go about the world, we see things, cognize objects and do our work.
King Janaka: Okay, but what happens when night falls? What lights my experience then?
Yajnavalkya: Moon lights up your experience in the night.
King Janaka: But, moon waxes and wanes, what happens on the night of Amavasya (no-moon night)?
Yajnavalkya: Dear king, it is Fire that lights your experience then.
King Janaka: But, fire burns out eventually..
Yajnavalkya: Then it is speech. If you are totally in dark, you can be guided by my voice and I can tell you where you are.
King Janaka: But what if you are not there?
Yajnavalkya: Well, dear king, then it is 'self'.
King Janaka: And what is this 'self', great sage?

Yajnavalkya

The last question asked by King Janaka is the mother of all questions. The answer can be simple yet one of the most difficult things to understand. It is what Upanishads try to explain. You see, Upanishads were not written by scholars so, they are not a thing of logic and reason. They are the records of the experiences of transcendence, first hand.

For anyone who has a working knowledge of Sanskrit (no, not me)can see the origins of the word within itself. ; Up-ni-shad
up- near, ni-down, shad-sit
Image of a disciple sitting at the feet of an enlightened soul and seeking knowledge comes to one's mind.
A less popular but probably a more meaningful dissection of the word could be ;
up- near, nishad- destroy utterly.
Coming near to the truth destroys utterly the illusion that makes us think we are what in fact we are not. The illusion that the world is real when it is not.And why should one come near to the truth at all and what is this 'truth' that is being talked about? Answers lie in another set of questions.

Tell me, what is that one thing that connects a poor rickshaw walla and a big shot CEO of a fortune 500 company. Can there possibly be a thing that links them? And how?Yes, there is. Both were born in this world. Both mortals. Live their lives a certain way and with at most certainty both will one day leave for the heavenly abode. So, why did they ever come to earth. What was the purpose of their existence for this brief a period in the 4th dimension.
To drive a rickshaw?
Yes and no.
To head a company, take it to NASDAQ?
Yes and no.

God-realization, or Self-realization, is the ultimate purpose of human life, says Vedanta. In Sri Ramakrishna’s words, "Futile is the human birth without the awakening of spiritual consciousness.”
And why? Because we can. Because it is that one thing that distinguishes a human being from animals? Otherwise they both are alike working for (or out of) food, rest, fear and the desire to leave a progeny. So, any person thinking that he/she is just an individual , limited and temporary is making a terrible mistake.

And how do we go about it, understanding the macro-cause of the galaxies of this universe we live in and continue fulfilling the micro-causess of day to day life ? (damn that sounded weird... I know!)
Well, there are a lot of ways. Quoting Upanishads Vahini. You know I love to quote (read cut-copy-paste ;p).

"Seeking to reach Paramatma, the source and
core of the Universe, the Individual or Jivi, has to overcome, by
discrimination and steady practice of detachment, the
bonds one by one. He who wins in this struggle is the
Jivanmuktha-“Liberated even while alive.”

Whoa, was that light? Or did they just mix profound jargon with a few Sanskrit words?
Yes and no. ;p

To me, Upanishads are fascinatingly challenging or shall I say disturbingly provocative mix of stories. I know it is much much more as pages unfold. And so is looking at the vast blue sky or listening to Jimi Hendrix or learning from life experiences or understanding quantum physics or mastering the art of picking your nose without getting caught.
Or reading a book on Vedanta.
I mean, all that a bottle of fine wine needs is a bottle opener (a cork screw) so that you can get drunk on it.
If Self-realization were fine wine then Upanishads is nothing more than a bottle opener...
...good enough to consume my "day-offs".

"for the sake of posting" Post..

2010-11-08T01:07:00.000-08:00

Liu Xia

Too much has been going on for me to keep up with the posting. No, I mean I do post but just for the sake of posting and feel a hollow sense of validation. The recent posts are nothing like the well researched articles of a proud blog. But, I've got some new things to put up so expect them soon. I also apologize for the abrupt disappearance but day job + Padhai + personal work = broke ass Pallavi!

I know it's too late to post an article about the Nobel prize 2010 but it's my blog, lazy, like me, so I guess it's okay.

My night time study partner, the ultra boring news channel, CNN, was flashing news of the Nobel peace prize and it didn't take it long to catch my frenzy - Liu Xiaobo wins the Nobel Peace Prize 2010 and is being praised all over the world for sacrificing his personal life (which includes being sentenced to eleven years' imprisonment and two years' deprivation of political rights ) and stand up against a very 'control obsessed' Chinese govt.
Beijing is trying hard to keep the news off the internet and away from it's own people. But what really caught my attention was the following ;

"A group of up to 100 supporters gathered outside Liu's Beijing apartment compound, which his wife, Liu Xia, was prevented from leaving."- from the web pages of a news channel again.

Later, I happened to get a glimpse of her on CNN. What I saw was a skinny, shaved-head, sad yet defiant looking woman supporting her husband's ideals from outside the jail. I think it's a very touching story of a couple. No?

Food in a 'busy as hell' life.

2010-10-20T06:09:00.000-07:00

.

I made this last Sunday and to my surprise it turned out to be mmmm...fabulicious. So, I made it again and packed it for my colleagues at the hospital. They love me. Well, who wouldn't?
I am posting a link here for my busy, lazy friends who want a great Indian snack but can't stand the South-Indian-restaurant-meddling of almost every Indian dish. The best part is that the recipe uses a microwave. Try it!

click here for the recipe
http://funnfud.blogspot.com/2008/09/instant-microwave-khandvi-suralichi.html

Where all geese are swans.

2010-03-13T18:59:00.000-08:00

Disinclined to write for so long that I leave no room for apologies. I guess you all know by now that this blog needn't be followed and checked regularly for updates. Besides, funnily enough, I can think productively only on my escapades to the middle of nowhere. Much to Mom's dismay who isn't comfortable with the idea of a single female traveler. Anyway I am not seeing her until long and when I do I ain't mentioning it to her.Only one regret, forgot to bring my camera. Suddenly feel like Gogol's conjoined twin, Namesake, remember? where his dad wants to capture the scene on the shore but realizes he forgot his camera, and then he asks Gogol, "will you remember this place? the place from where there's no place to go". And they never took a picture. He always remembered the place. So will I.

Namesake

I was thinking of some readymade excuses like I was sick, I was working,I am dying but I'm not wasting my time doing that and tell it like it is. This is that phase in my life where the center of my focus is the only thing that's important to me. Everything else is just a distraction. Moved to a new place, ran into troubles every single day. But, all that is behind me with newer challenges springing up to tease me out. Blog, films...can wait. Also, I have never had so many important decisions to make, not since the first time I saw footwear at Macy's so many that I wanted to weep.

I've grown up(or so I think).I guess time teaches you everything whether you wish to learn or not. You think you're comfortable being yourself, it teaches you otherwise. Yet, remember the time when I thought world a smaller, quieter, simpler place .
And of course the work. I am buried in work to a point where anybody else mentioning how busy they are annoys the living fuck out of me. Make this work go away, life time of play if you can. Feel sorry for all those hundreds of downloaded films pining to be watched, stashed in the hard drive. Right! this is how I express my love for them ; Stash'em. "No, not seeing you till the time I have nothing else left to do. But, I still love you." Btw new respect for Amreeka , net is faster and downloading easier. So, all my filmy friends you need to come over for a number of reasons, this being the biggest.

So, what am I doing here? Just because me thought of letting the center of the focus become a fringe and also, in case you hadn't noticed, my dying, dying, dead blog desperately needed a post. Pronto.
Think I've used up all readymade excuses and wasted enough time.

It's terribly unsettling to treat my baby like this and then I say I love (*note: not like but love) writing. Lol.
Maybe this is the thing about love. you often start taking things for granted as to never take time and think about them. No? Okay. Just me, then.
And yeah, this post is about love. Sorry, the title was of no help.

I can thank and blame Med school for myriad of reasons and this one in particular, it made me realize how easily we can forget the most important things in our lives. It sometimes takes a hostel mess to appreciate home cooked food. I missed home and my family. Let me take this moment to confess my eternal love for them. Dad, I love you. Maa, I love you. "Oh puhleez, don't they already know this??! Save the drama will ya?" you ask. Yes, they do.Well, at least she does. We have this little thing between us; I gift her something each year on valentines day, as a token of my L-O-V-E.
This self made family ritual started when I was still a child, a 4th(?) grader, when India was only coming to terms with the concept of Valentine's day. Well, now it has risen to worrisome proportions with everybody wishing everybody "Happy valentine's day" as if it was the same deal as wishing "Happy new year". So, there I was, randomly asking people what was it all about. I remember, one Auntyji trying to explain it to a 4th grader while cleverly trying not to mention about Gfs and Bfs. She said 'you send roses and gifts to someone you love' or something to that effect. Ah, That's simple. I knew somebody I loved. Maa and Dad. And because dad was abroad, Maa was, by default, my official valentine. I bought her a gift. A pair of earrings. Yes, they must have been really inexpensive(or what's the other word for that, ah, priceless!) to accommodate in my pocket money.
I remember she laughed the day away. And I still get laughed at for not being able to understand what Valentine's day meant. Anyway, I kept on giving her presents on subsequent V-days. Don't know why maybe because there was no proper way to save face after that :P
It was only a few months ago when she was cleaning out her closet, she brought those earrings to me. I was surprised to see she kept them for so many years and I knew it's things like these that'll make me miss her when I'm gone in a way that I have missed her never before.

With dad, it's a little different. Maa would always say I've taken after him, in mannerisms and general outlook about life. I like when she says that. Dad is what they call "the son of the soil", a completely self made person, he comes from a place that has a weird name, is difficult to spell and is unknown to 99.999 % people on this planet. I can lay a bet on this one . The 0.001 % people who know where it is are actually the people from that miniature village in the back of beyond. It's going to sound funny if I try to explain what he means to me , because all my major decisions , career and otherwise are loosely based on his own dreams and aspirations, things he wanted to do, but couldn't.
He was a brilliant student and is an extremely down to earth person. Could that be something Maa fell for? She being the uptown girl. Opposites attract, no?

Lines of Beauty by Chidi Okoye.

Back to the topic.
Have you ever had this feeling that life is difficult, if not impossible, to live without a companion, without somebody living in your head. That something , that comes from the heaven and makes part of earth a heaven too. In your eyes. It's not just a feeling, definitely not just a phase, that will get over , maybe it's a place where everybody and absolutely everybody wants to be in. A place where all geese are swans. Have you ever wished you wanted to be there? Yes? Keep reading.

Or maybe not,we don't want to be there. We're still young. It is tough being the age you are and not being able to experience what people of our age can. But ,no, not this once. Singlehood is a bliss, dating is fun, what if the last relationship went straight to hell, we're always up. Nothing's serious at our age. I know you're nodding a yes. (And now playing single ladies on ipod)
But, Maa thinks otherwise. Believe me all mum's do. Their eyes are peeled all the time, ready to find a potential partner in every place and every situation.

While I am busy charting out my career, resume building, pretending I am getting somewhere, beating myself up for not having enough time, deprived of all the fun things and killing my life (believe me I'd save so much time if I just shot myself instead), I don't mind listening to her preoccupations, her worries and the "ways of the world" once in a while. And all this to hint me that my marriage is on the cards. Aaaand the hunt is on. No matter howsoever embarrassing that might be. "Maa, he's a colleague. Maa, he's just a friend. Maa, but I don't like him. Maa, that douche bag? really? Maa, he's actually a girl". Lol that was a bit over the top, but this is what the situation-room is like. Lol. Believe me it's huge fun inventing excuses like that. And my all time fav would be "Maa, I am not ready for marriage" which btw has some honesty and is not entirely a product of my creativity.

So, what happens when the time tested, fully trusted "pados ke sharma ji ka ladka/ladki" matrimony seems like a complete misfit? Matrimony sites come into the picture, and so many of them. It's like the whole world is coming together to find you somebody.It's crazy, it's queer, it's here. Deal with it!
But, whatever happened to finding true love? That twinkle in the eye and the promise of a rose?

Maybe Swayamvar is an answer to the current problem in the future (the second most popular thing to happen last year. first being PS-3, no doubts). But, sadly it's not made available to the public yet, is currently in phase two trials with Rahul Mahajan as the guinea pig (make sure you read the pig again). Anyway, I would still thank him and Rakhi Sawant for the sole reason that they have provided this country with a zillion new punch lines. Till the time they're not available, the swayamvars of course, everybody hope that love will find a way in the current setup.

I'm sure there are guys and girls out there who recognize with me (Rahul, Namita, hope you're reading this. And I kept my promise of moving past my current schedule) wish you all the very best in finding yourself ~~similar background~~, ~~same age-group~~, ~~similar family values~~, ~~similar profession~~, ~~matching horoscopes~~, ~~similar perspectives~~, ~~blah blah~~ a companion to keep you interested for the rest of your days.

Who you'd love to walk with on marine drive (no, not a fancy restaurant),on a hot and humid Indian evening, eating channas watching the night fall and striking a good conversation or just looking at the sea with vacant eyes and talking about your future, cracking a joke about your kids being named as "chutter putter" instead of giving them proper names. While you're trying to ward off mosquitoes and failing at that , lost in the bliss of companionship, moon light and the oblivion called love.

Siddhartha: Hesse’s vs. Rooks’s

2009-07-08T12:33:00.000-07:00

.

Honestly speaking, it’s only unfair to compare the two because Rooks’s version wouldn’t have been possible without Hesse’s legendary piece in literature. Being entirely based on Hesse’s Siddhartha, Rooks’s appears like a terrible mistake. And ‘why,’ you ask ‘why would someone want to flounder with an idea as great as that?’ Well, Rooks cannot be blamed, after all, a film is only a medium of expression, what all it can evolve into, is a different story. Rooks’s film is almost like an act of asking people to go read the book. I would have done the same had I been a film maker; I am doing the same, being a blogger.
Guys, go read the book.

The book:
Someone, who himself leads a life of a modern age shramana, a wandering ascetic (at least fits the “I can think, I can wait, I can fast” bill), once explained the concept of grace to me.
“Grace, started as a Christian word/concept, ceased to be used solely for young women with time, went on to bag a new meaning”. I interrupted “Yeah, Words can acquire a life of their own.” He continued “True. Grace, you see, has nothing to do with intelligence, patience or kindness. It’s almost like your soul glows and it becomes visible to others” on this I questioned, “Is it like, you have it because you were born with it?” And he said” No, not necessarily, there can be a case where a young reckless lad in his 20’s is not even remotely graceful but when he reaches 50, he has grace, as something that suddenly came about, almost like an accident or something that seeped inside him over the years. Though it cannot be acquired, achieved or attained, but it certainly can be found. Like a rare rose in the tropical summer. The whole concept of salvation, is nothing but this, stop searching or you will miss the obvious.”

Grace is what it is, immanent in the book and absent in the film, and the reason for the film’s driftage from the notion of Siddhartha, the book has voiced out rather beautifully. Hesse's novella Siddhartha: Eine indische Dichtung (Siddhartha: An Indian Poetic Work) is not just a book, it’s a journey, it becomes a part of you, grows inside you, questions you, absorbs you, leaves you, kills you and eventually gives you a rebirth. Well, almost.

Narcissus and the Goldmund got Hesse his Noble. But Siddhartha is something else; beyond all comparisons, no doubt statistics crown Siddhartha as ‘his most popular work’. The book, originally written in German, first published in 1922, is considered by some, as the pinnacle of his fascination with orientalism. There is a Siddhartha in every one of us, the restless young mind that is more than eager to find THE path, to decode the meaning of religions, search for self knowledge and divine within, of what Hesse termed the Weg nach Innen; the inward journey. He’s somebody who gets sick and tired of this “well upholstered hell” every once in a while. Know him?
Because religion is not about holy books, idol worship, sacred chants it’s not even about meditation and spiritual debates. Religion is a man’s own journey, and only he will tread it. It’s not necessary to worship god, he only has to be acknowledged to be able to look beyond the comedy and tragedy of the events, because the comedy of all things is that they are serious.

An excerpt:
Siddhartha bent down and lifted a stone from the ground and held it in his hand. “This” he said, handling it, “is a stone, and within a certain length of time it will perhaps be soil and from the soil it will become plant, animal or man. Previously I should have said: this stone is just a stone; it has no value it belongs to the world of maya, but perhaps within the cycle of change it can also become man and spirit, it is also of importance. This is what I should have thought. But, now I think: this stone is stone; it is also animal, god and Buddha. I do not respect and love it because it is one thing and will become something else, but because it has already long been everything and always is everything.”

The film:
In a bookstore close to my house hangs a board which reads “Read it before Hollywood kills it”. I needn’t say more. Although, this one’s not as big a disappointment as others have proved to be. In fact Rooks’s is a visual delight, almost like a poetry and all credit goes to the cinematographer, Sven Nykvist.

Sven Nykvist's cinematography is the THING.
It’s amazing to see how someone from faraway Sweden is able to capture the Indian riparian forests, river banks and the streams on the camera so exquisitely well. The river, "on screen" gave a whole new meaning to the film, a tableau of Siddhartha’s life, at times sounding more pleasant than his saintly verses, can be perceived to be the narrator of the story. These cleverly edited scenes that made the river look so prepossessing have done complete justice to the description of river in the book. The rivers are all about life and this is what makes the books about rivers so attractive, because the good one’s cannot be just about the river, which is the ostensible subject, they have to deal with the life in the settlements around it and the stories they spin.

Shashi Kapoor as Siddhartha outdid himself. Class act!
The heart renting scene where his son abandons him is worth more than a zillion bollywood films of his. It was a refreshing surprise to see him act so well, but then again , Hesse’s Siddhartha had set such high standards that neither Shashi nor Rooks could reach. Also, he (and in fact all the actors in the film) could’ve done Conrad a big favor by letting go of his accent. Similarly, he could’ve shed those extra pounds before jumping into the film; it feels a little crappy to see Siddhartha, who boasts of being able to fast, with that proud belly of his showing from the folds of the robe that was donned in the efforts of covering it up.

Likewise the actor posing as govinda, a saintly Brahmin boy, didn’t bother to shave off his extra long sideburns (pretty good ones, gotta say, his girl and Elvis Presley would’ve been so proud of them). Period films are about detailing, these trifle bloopers can be easily given a pass, all right. But, they can make a film loose its essence. Now, that’s no trifle at all.

Otherwise, the casting is near perfect, Garewal as kamala, epitomizes beauty, that it can be something to be worshipped, momentarily though. The lady knows some acting as well, icing on the cake! The role of the ferryman, played by Zul vellani is a wonderful one, not only because the screenplay accommodates it respectfully but because of the indelible discernment he brings to the characterization, one so well-realized, that of an old wise man. Some times it felt that he was a bit overdressed for a poor ferryman, but considering the film was shot in Rishikesh that became necessary or the actors could have frozen their asses in those Himalayan mornings.

As for Mr. Rooks, he could do better. We loved his chappaqua (and loved him in chappaqua). Siddharta too, is a respectable endeavor; the only time it fails is when it gets compared to the book. The characters become very verbose at times. The dialogue between siddharta and kamalaswami has been turned into a rant rather than a simple conversation on the dinner table. Capturing the shramanas on camera was a task very well undertaken. Pictured deeply intoxicated (amidst clouds of marijuana and bhakti ) whiling their time away in this sansara by singing the bhajans, clamorously, in an attempt to attain nirvana . What is Bhakti to them is dismissed as an act of fooling oneself by Siddhartha, who refers to them as nothing but escapists.

The music could be slightly better too, “nodire” is a decent song, but there really wasn't a need to fit-in a Bengali song in a film that has nothing to do with Bengal. I wish there was some tribal kumauon piece or some Rajasthani folk music (the film’s actually shot in the princely state of Bharatpur). Also, the humming, that the film opens with, sounds like an adaptation of a cheesy mujra song and prolly it is! Who knows! Conrad Rooks could have never figured it.

Should my combined disappointment and dispassionate admiration be considered a complex thumbs-up? Well, maybe. Okay, enough said and I should seriously stop picking at Rooks’s efforts, it isn’t a bad film at all, in fact the book and the movie both are worth giving time and thought to. I suggest read the book first, grab the DVD months later, or else you’ll get busy comparing them and miss the entire point, the idea of Siddharta. That’s the last thing we’d want to happen because it has already suffered more than its due share in our busy yet prisoned lives. Because honestly, the film is a disaster when it comes to story telling, it only makes you curious about the book and makes you reread it but still, needs to be viewed for its leisurely pace and its stunning photography.

Read it, to experience it because Siddhartha is beyond a book, beyond a film “it’s a sanctuary to which one can retreat to anytime, a sanctuary within.”

.

Satyajit Ray : an expedition

2009-05-01T10:53:00.000-07:00

I remember very clearly when I first saw him on TV, in an interview and have some moments etched in my memory. A very handsome, towering 6.4” in his 50s and a proud owner of a strapping physique.This was contrary to the image I cultivated in my mind, that of a short, plump, specky Bengali. With those looks he could have done equally well as an actor, but he was no actor, he was a realisateur: a director and no ordinary one at that,he was the finest India ever had. Not to say that his looks did'nt make me a fan, I was already one, long before I saw him on TV, when I read Feluda during my school days.

Feluda: the sleuth that dominated Sandesh (his family magazine) for decades was inspired by Sherlock Holmes. Holmes is classic, legendary, more popular. True. But Feluda is dearer and so are the stories, for a number of reasons. Foremost being the fact that the stories are set in the Indian scenario, places like "bhul bhulaiya" in "badshah ri angti" and the jaisalmer fort in the "sonar kella" are the ones we are acquainted with and even today they beautifully bring back the nostalgia of those summer vacations that were a part of my up bringing. Also, because I could relate to the narrator Topshe(Feluda’s cousin). I was his age when I picked up Feluda. But Feluda is only one of the not so famous works of this very famous film maker.

Born in a family of notable writers, illustrators and philosophers, Ray was a blessed child. Although he lost his father at the tender age of 3, but if the gene theory is to be believed then Ray was born a “thinking” man .His family lived on a meager income of his mother but an extremely rich philosophical environment.
Ray studied economics at the Presidency College, Calcutta. I am told that even back then St. Xavier’s, Calcutta and St. Stephens, Delhi had a greater brand value but "prezy" had its own charm , I’d like to believe it .After finishing college he went on to study Arts at the Shantiniketan but before he could finish the five year long course , he ran away . He’s known to have juggled many jobs, but his stint as an illustrator in the pre film making period of his life is most remembered.

Ray never studied film making. In fact most of the great film makers, ones who were able to raise the bench mark for their contemporaries, never did go to the film school. The paradox is reciprocated in the fact that the great film schools like the one in our own country were not able to deliver the likes of Ray. This, we know, is a part of the greater polemic that questions the existence of these institutions.

Many of his films have women playing central roles (maybe because the feminist films/novels had become a part of the Zeitgeist then) and all of them pleasantly occupied the screen with a credible degree of grace (now, that wouldn’t have been so difficult because all women have grace, whether they're from some far off tribe in Africa or a slum in Mumbai , for whatever small amounts, as a result of being passed in the womb to the girl child or probably they're brought up this way, grace comes naturally to women) and this, what is natural to them was beautifully captured by Ray .So what if she is a slut who has dangerous liaisons or even crushes that would endanger her institutional marriage , Ray managed to bring out the quintessential grace that dons women, Charulata comes to one’s mind.

Picture of Pather Panchali script
(C) copyright of the Ray family

Ray did most of the work revolving around the film making business by himself, the screenplay, cinematography, designing the credits, even music at times, saved him a lot of money in the process (something that came handy for his daring, off-beat cinema, for which funds didn’t trickle down easily). Talking about his scripts, being very richly illustrated they sure are something to look at! Some of the illustrations went on to become the exact scenes in his films. Ray, no doubt is a hell of an inspiration for the film makers across the globe but two of his characteristic qualities clearly stand out, his patience and his consistency in the quality of the work he delivered. Lets take them one at a time. Ray, a typical taurian, had an amazing capacity for calmly enduring difficult situations without giving up. A special mention of this particular incident from the filming of pather panchali: it was when Ray shot the scene where train is discovered by Apu and his sister Durga in the field of Kaash flowers' but was unable to finish it the same day. The following day when they returned to shoot, to their horror they discovered that the Kaash flowers had been feasted upon by a herd of cattle. He had to wait for the next season of flowers to complete the scene.
Consistency: How ray managed to maintain (even elevate) his own standards is quite impressive. Many of his aficionados believe his later films are better than the Apu Trilogy era. (Exclude Ganashatru, Shakha Prashakha and Agantuk, that were filmed during the time when Ray was practically bed ridden, these were the films that were very heavy on the dialogues with most of the shooting happening indoors, so very not Ray)

Illustrations of some scenes
(C) copyright of the Ray family

A deserved admiration is a responsibility, an undeserved one is precious. With every masterpiece that Ray produced, came a heavy load of expectations, the hype can be unbearable at times and kills the film even before it confronts the audience, but Ray being Ray, managed to pass this test.
We know Akira Kurosawa was not exaggerating when he declared “not to have seen cinema of ray means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon"

So, from being a typical general knowledge question in school "which Indian has won the academy award" to becoming a fan of Pradosh C.Mitter(Feluda) to be swayed in the glory of Ray's cinema and trying to understand the dream of liminality away from social custom that often evolves in them, Ray is an expedition, an "abhijan", a never ending one.

p.s. This article is a tribute to Ray, a personal one. (May, the 2nd happens to be Ray’s birth day).It does not claim to bring about anything new about him, which is practically impossible because so much has been written about the man already. This article, howsoever unfocussed it might seem, is about how I remember him. I can’t even try to mention his body of work that too in so many different fields. If I did then I might have to consider writing a book.

p.p.s.: Some of the pictures, where mentioned, are a copyright of the Ray family; they are being used here after seeking permission from Sandeep Ray, Ray’s only child and a prolific film maker.

.

The stochastic variable

2009-03-19T13:30:00.000-07:00

The stochastic variable, this is what my posting has become.
It feels nice to write again after a long while. (Not that I have not been posting, I think I have been regular this year, but recent posts were mere compilations of pictures and quotes)SO, unlike typical bloggers who are so jobless they write every day/week about anything from paper towels to Naruto to someone they hardly know, I have a life, and a credible amount of dignity. So what if my posts are sporadic. To me, blogging is a simple hobby, and not a full time occupation, or a claim to fame. It also feels nice to know that my readership has gone up somewhat exponentially, (Honestly speaking , I never expected it , I always thought
no one's ever going to read my blog, I mean why should anybody? I am no actor, writer, reality show winner etc... But then again, I thought what the heck, it's going to be my personal journal, so, be it. And since then my profile views have been increasing, 160 something, oh boy! Where did all these people come from?!) So, I take this moment to express my gratitude.

It, now occupies my free time and thoughts (usually pleasantly)... though I was never criticized for my limited pursuits, been into some serious painting ( my medium being oil on canvas, for most of my works , but I tried some acrylic too), clay modeling, editing a magazine, swimming , debates , writing , Indian classical music (I use this term quite loosely)..and lately blogging.Out of all these I think the last one is the least burdensome and demanding , all I have to do is sit and type . Ah, what a cushy job ! And like other hobbies , it too, loyally provides abundant nourishment to my mind, like a hearty meal. So, here I am.

In a last couple of months internet had become repulsive, thanks to the ever stupid social networking sites, I got sick and tired of them, so much so that I deleted my account twice from one such site. Out of so many negative things to point out (yeah I am pretty good at this one), this one undoubtedly stands out ... the UPDATES.
No, not my updates, but those from my friends (and some not so friendly muttonheads residing in my friend's list).
I mean, why will I ever want to know the results of "what Japanese name are you?" QUIZ... yeah u read it right ... and the results are something like ..."if you are a girl your name would be seito, if you are a boy it would be shoyite"... see, just how customized these quizes can be.. they don’t even bother about your gender ... and the fuck-up is... they want ME to know this precious bit about their lives!! .. Why, may i ask ? Wait,do you think it's gonna change my life? REALLY... do you?

Or for that matter "what animal are you" QUIZ.... err what?!!
NO, I don't want to know if you are a chimpanzee or a pig. Yes, but I DO want to know, when are you evolving into a sensible friend and come out of your mental numbness.

And as if this wasn’t enough some of them will "poke" me (or even better "super poke" me) ... and they expect me to poke them back... yes, they do expect ! and if u don’t do anything to them they will like to leave a scrap which essentially translates to "why are you not active on this account?" and I sometimes wish I could leave a scrap /wall post as a reply ..No dude I am not going to do such a thing, and I might as well ask you why did u do it in the first place I don't know if you are normally stupid or deliberately acting obtuse??

And after getting irritated, frustrated, peeved, annoyed, pissed... pallavi takes to blogging.
Blogging: quick and easy, and comes with stupidity proof shield.

Enter stage. Lights . Camera (readers), Action !

I came, I posted, I left.

Also, I think, I have reached a stage (chronologically), where I want to be heard, only(save me the unnecessary applications).
Now, what's great in that? Everybody wants to be heard...
Yeah, nothing great...but along with it I’d love to read some impressive blogs,write-ups by other bloggers, I also follow them( off and on, not regularly though )
Some of them, bloggers that is, are luminaries and some are ordinary people (like me) with extraordinary blogs, blogs that make me T-H-I-N-K.

so, happy blogging !

..

God is the experience of looking at a tree and saying, "Ah!"

2009-03-12T10:00:00.000-07:00

Why are there trees I never walk under but large and
melodious thoughts descend upon me?
- Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree.
Perhaps, unless the billboards fall,
I'll never see a tree at all.
- Ogden Nash, Song of the Open Road, 1933

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair
The bees are stirring, birds are on the wing,
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of spring."
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.
- Claude Monet

It is at the edge of a petal that love waits.
- William Carlos Williams

What a desolate place would be a world without a flower!
It would be a face without a smile, a feast without a welcome.
Are not flowers the stars of the earth, and are not our starts
the flowers of the heaven.
- A.J. Balfour

With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures
and some books, I live without envy.
- Lope de Vega

every (slum)dog has it's day ...and some have eight oscars ..

2009-02-24T09:07:00.000-08:00

slumdog slumdog!!

millionaire millionaire!!

"Slumdog, which cost only $15 million (£8.7 million) to make, has already gone on to take $160 million (£117 million) at the box office worldwide and could double this sum after last night’s haul of eight Oscars, including Best Picture. It is likely to go on earning millions of dollars a year for decades to come, thanks to DVD sales, TV licensing, and revenues from internet streaming. "
- taken from times online

the movie in itself might be debatable( many indians, which includes me, disliked the way it pictured india) but ... profits speak the loudest !
did not like the film , but i am happy , even elated that it wom 8 oscars !! yay!!

here's an amazing review of the same..
http://thaniblog.blogspot.com/2009/01/slumdog-millionaire-review-what-is.html

this and that !

There's not enough hours in the day;
To say all that I want to say,
There's not enough days in the week;
And weeks go by quicker than drunks knock back liquor,
There's not enough weeks in the month;
To do all that needs to be done,
There's not enough months in the year;
And years disappear like the bubbles in my beer.

from Timestretched by The Divine Comedy

oh, yeah this on shelfari... after a loooong break i am again active on shelfari..glad , i'm back!

animal farm ..

“What makes animal farm a great master-piece is the UNIQUE "belief in the suspension of your disbelief", if you know what i mean ...

The bizzare idea of animals taking over the farm ,even taking for that matter (a fable it is .. true)

but, suddenly it all seems so meaningful, so close to reality when i see what's happening today in the world around us, in the parliament , in the U.N. and else where and i find myself mummering ...
"everybody is equal but some are more equal".

It IS one of the best satirical literature we have (yet)... i think it even dwarfs the efforts of Joseph Heller in "catch 22" (to an extent ).

George Orwell is the real napoleon ... he plays with our minds, brilliantly , and in doing so, sits back and mocks the very society he's a part of...

..but, we still we love him... don't we?

http://www.shelfari.com/books/10305/Animal-Farm

read my mind...

I know it in the way you never will...and i better get round to describing it to you .
the innate desire to free myself from the chains that tie me down , "the narrow domestic walls " (as Tagore wud say)
and at other times , listen(and contemplate) to that the perpetual din , which i keep ignoring , that which tells me to recognise myself with someone like me , to tie myself up with them .
in a bit .. when everything seems obscure , no definitions fit ,
in that search/delimma/confusion/perplexity..when no effable word can be produced
nobody else but me knows , what it is.

krukenberg's tumor ..

2009-02-18T23:02:00.000-08:00

what the **** !!

all these years, i thought krukenberg's tumor spreads by seeding .. but i was wrong !..blame the damn books( which incorporate little research in their text)..

anyways, it has hematological spread...which makes complete sense , because peritonium does'nt have cancer traces... (which in this case it should have)

but, why it selectively grows in the ovaries ??

P.S. Krukenberg's tumor as the first clinical manifestation of fibrolamellar hepatocarcinoma

P.P.S "There is some debate over the exact mechanism of metastasis of the tumour cells from the stomach, appendix or colon to the ovaries; classically it was thought that direct seeding across the abdominal cavity accounted for the spread of this tumor, but recently some researchers have suggested that lymphatic (i.e. through the lymph nodes), or haematogenous (i.e. through the blood) spread is more likely, as most of these tumours are found on the inside of the ovaries. Proponents of this theory cite the fact that metastases are never found in the omentum (the fatty apron which envelops the organs of the abdomen and lies between the stomach and ovaries), and that the tumor cells are found within the ovary and not growing inwards. However, this remains a controversy, as cases in Hong Kong always showed omental spread and peritoneal seedlings in patients with Krukenberg tumours.
Although a Krukenberg tumor is most commonly a metastasis from a gastric cancer (usually an adenocarcinoma), this is not always the case. Other tumours of the gastrointestinal tract (including, significantly, colon cancer) have been known to cause Krukenberg tumours, and recent case-reports of Krukenberg tumors originating from tumors of the tip of the appendix have appeared in the medical literature."

- taken from wikianswers.

2009-01-19T01:14:00.000-08:00

15th jan ..delhi trip.

was fun !!

was a misery !!

was insightful !!

was lucky !!

P.S. i lost my bag at midway behror and i cant believe someone found it , i got it back !! this world is not completely out of good old men!

oh yeah , the weather, in case you hadn't noticed, is going nuts.

organic has arrived ...for good!

2008-08-25T01:26:00.000-07:00

I read biology at school , therefore i know that DDT levels (in ppm) are highest in humans ...and even higher in indians.
Sitting on the top of food chain , enjoying a wide array of culinary delights, right from green veggies in our salad to the turkey and chicken and the lamb , this is the price we have to pay (reminds me of the Bourdain's "No Reservations" ads.) .
Yeah , we are a very hungry species , will do anything to feed ourselves . we will grow more , will sow more , will put more fertilizers and will not stand a single insect eating our grains, will put more insectisides....even if it all leads to our own damage .
Guess what ? I am hungry!!!
Yes, i am a fan of organic food and so are you !
Even when we don't exactly know the manifestations of DDT toxicity , but we DO know.. it's a bad thing ..bad enough to take our lives. Believe me this much knowledge will do!

Living in india , where organic food is some fashion of the well off's and not an everyday thing and organic farming has just started to gain popularity...i know we've a long way to go.
But wait, talking of farming where no chemicals are used .. i know this, this is something that poor farmers do (or have to do)...cuz they have no money! So, can i say that farming in india is by default organic ? I guess I can ..but not completely.We still have states like punjab , where people probably eat more ddt than anywhere else in the world , where some districts have so many cases of skin cancer that people have named a train after it.All this automatically makes us a fan !....of organic farming , food , living ...u name it!
Anyhow things are looking up..although govt. is not so hot on anything organic,(busy with nuclear 123 cha cha cha) BUT BUT BUT there are people like Vandana Shiva ,who are loyal to the cause, i must say i was lucky to see how much work "navdanya" has done already .

The concept of preserving indigenous seeds and building seed banks is scientific and has a sense of individuality. I admit that it never occurred to me that most indian species of grains are under direct danger of becoming extinct ,thanks to the better yielding , the costlier, the genetically modified AND the very american variety of seeds.
All said and done, they say "every journey starts with a single step"..i'd say navdanya took that first step , forwards.. definately...
...........a lot needs to be done .

i am going mad!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-08-22T13:59:00.000-07:00

yes , i am going mad.

i am filling my electives forms , and i am really surprised how complicated this paperwork can be!!!

tommorrow i have to go to a doc. and get my vaccination completed . and a hell lot of stuff remains to be done ....please god give me a personal assistant, someone who has a strong stomach and lot of patience..

okay i think i will put myself together and stop cribbing ...sob sob (can i weep?)

hey , mah new cell ..nokia n series 73 has an amazing amazing camera. i just clicked a gr8 pic ..
i swear this one is 100 times better than my old motorola cell...but ya that was a decent cell too(and faithful).

and this week i painted this lil thing too...turned out to be "not bad"....what say pill?

fear...

2008-06-09T11:16:00.000-07:00

Well...my best moment would be ..when I assisted a neurosurgeon and saved a little girl after jaipur blasts. She had a severe head injury and her survival was not possible without intervention. Thank you god for making me a doctor!

scene at s.m.s.hosptial on tuesday,8.10 pm the E.R.I and my friends,all interns, rushed to the hospital as soon as we heardabout the blasts..there was huge crowd in front of the hospital..as weentered inside , we saw that the usually white and shiny floor of theE.R. had turned red , there was so much blood on the floor that it madeit slippery and difficult to walk.we had never in our lives seen so many dead bodies as we did that night,piled on top of one another. they were quickly moved to make room forthe injured, some bodies had gone into a stage of rigor mortis ,whichmade them difficult to handle.blasts left 67 dead and 250 injured ,all a result of 9 bombs that detonated in lessthan 20 mins.the triage was completed in minutes.everything was going fine untill another ambulance arrived bringing morevictims..it was clear that we needed to form team and workaccordingly...one of our senior residents divided us into rescueteams...5 of us stood on the gate with i.v. fluids and canullae and therest were working inside..more and more doctors came as the news spread, some of the doctors werestanding on the other side of the road, unable to wade through the rushand mayhem.most of the victims were shifted to the 'polytrauma ward' after theinitial resusciation. it was there that the atual extent of injuries wasassessed.two of the patients who were very seriously injured,and finally din'ntmake it,were policemen.at around 10pm ,the blood bank was short of o-negative blood, which wasdreadly needed.some of my collegues went out and asked people to stepforward and donate blood.later we heard the news channels and the govt.had also made an appeal. it was amazing to see that so many people fromacross the city came in to donate blood that later the blood bank had tosay that they have enough blood!the injuries were typical blast injures , it was probably RDX as peoplewere injured more than they were burnt.a lot of patients had haemothorax and haemoperitonium,diagnosed by aprompt ultrasound, large number of head injuries, fractures, rupturedspleens and livers and even tongues.. are just to name a few type ofinjuries.one of the most depressing stories is when the mobile phones of the deadwere ringing and doctors had to answer them, only to tell that theperson who owns the phone is no more.

fear ...

Life goes on . Was it Charles Darwin or somebody else who said” it is difficult to create life but once created it is even more difficult to curb it.” But who wants a life full of fear? Living with the fear of dying any second is worse than death itself.A few days ago, many people died out of no fault of their own, in the middle of a peaceful city…jaipur. Sometimes it makes you think about world problems social, economical, environmental blah blah …aren’t there enough of them to drive us crazy that we need another problem to surface with every passing day. This world ,with Katrina and tsunamis, is just marginally fit to live and we really don’t need jehadies or RUF or gorillas. God, this you made, is not a fair world.Hate is an emotion and so is grief ,both are knitted closely to make the fabric of modern world. World is unjust . True. Hatred can be justified. Expressing it is also justified as long as it does not lead to grief. But how can you justify the killing of a 4 year old girl who barely knows the world ,that too in a city as peaceful as jaipur with no involvement in world politics whatsoever .Not fair !Not fair! We did nothing to deserve this.And how bad can ‘they’ be hurt to stoop down to the levels of planning such diabolical and cold blooded acts. Or how badly have they failed in carrying out collateral talks and sort their problems that ‘this’ has come as a last resort to them? These are nothing but acts of cowardice .

But the more important question that lies ahead is what are we ,the educated and the more sensible people doing to bring this to an end. What is it that unites every nation in the fight against malaria and HIV but divides them at the mere mention of terrorism? What fear keeps us from coming out in open against the same. Why do we always have to bandage the injured and never get a chance to score our very own feat . Lighting candles after the blasts is no way of showing how bravely you have emerged but dismantling their bombs is. I don’t believe in being offensive ..but we sure can be overly defensive and curb their plans.

2008-06-09T11:05:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody !

life as a doctor is not very frequently gifted with moments u can call best or great ..yet, there r some ...
something like getting a 10 hour sleep ..lol
tell us about your best moment in medicine ever ..