A rather despirited show!

THE SPIRIT



I love action comics...I love Wolverine, Storm, Batman, Green Arrow, Catwoman, Cyclops, Hulk, Thor, Saturn, Elektra, Gambit...and I could go on and on and on. I had loved Sin City and 300. So when the promos for 'The Spirit' started showing with Eva Mendes and Paz Vega scorching the screen, I could barely wait to watch it.

I should have stuck to the promos!

The movie is a visual feast. The actors Gabriel Macht, Eva Mendes, Paz Vega, Jamie Fox, Scarlet Johanassen, Sarah Paulson and Samuel L. Jackson are all good actors, some of course better then the rest. And this brilliant cast and fantastic graphics makes the bad direction and screenplay even more appalling!

First things first...the dark edgy Frank Miller graphic novel visual style DOES NOT go with the general camo tone of the film. Secondly, nobody wants to watch a camp superhero movie! And finally...and the worst of all; you CANNOT change the character of a super villain and make him look worse than a comic strip clown in the name of "...oppurtunity to be larger than life...". The Octopus is larger than life and making him period costumes will not change things for the better.

Why is it so difficult for people to leave the good things be? A menacing villain identified only by his gloves; whose face has never been seen versus a black man behaving like a queen who can't dress. Frank Miller is a briliant director...but he should stick to what he's good at -- edgy, adrenaline stashed movies.

Anyhow, now for the good things in the movie...Eva Mendes is the ultimate femme fatale. But then again, she's always that. She's the only woman I've seen on screen who can carry off orange lip tinge with panache! Paz Vega; very good and very underrated, is stunning as Plaster of Paris. Jamie King is alluring as Lorelaine - the angel of death. Scarlett Johansson and Sarah Paulson are prim, pretty and seductive. Samuel L. Jackson is wasted in a role that did not need him. And finally, Gabriel Macht, did look the best I've seen in any of his pics online. He should keep the dark hair look.

I am no great movie critic, and I am perhaps out of my depth here...but it's a very basic flaw in the entire show -- the director wanted to cram in too many things. He wanted the original camp humour of the comic series, he wanted the dark look of Sin City, he wanted a brilliant star cast, and he wanted to touch up the whole thing with his 'vision' of 'larger than life' costumes signifying the 'samurai, nazi, russian, and blaxploitation' movies.

Aaaarrrgh! It's a comic strip movie. Just keep it simple!!!

Love, sex and intimacy

I had been a naive child. I had found out the details about sex much later than the rest of classmates had. This was partly due to the fact that I was a prudish no-nonsense sort of a child.

But things change, thankfully!

Anyhow, this is not a post about innocence lost, nor is this post about my escapades. (It amazing what feats one can perform with the correct choice of words!)

I was thinking of the general perception I have noticed amongst my friends and aquaintances pertaining to love, and sex. Its also a cross-cultural thing I guess. One important factor in this was that I'd recently read 'It Does Not Die' by Maitreyi Devi in its original bengali version 'Na Hanyate'. It is by far one of the best books I have read in any genre, in any language. Perhaps I will have audacity to review it here someday, but for now let's suffice it to say this book touched me in a way nothing had touched me in a long time.

This book told me what we have known since a while,which, very flatly put, will boil down to that the western perception of love is markedly different from the indian outlook towards it. The western concept of love ( as it appears to me) has a certain rigid structure to it, there's always the initial romance, persuasion and a final culmination in the physical expression of it. There's no doubt that I am indeed making a rash generalization of it, but if you should notice, all love stories in the western tradition need even a symbolic gesture of the physical for it to be complete.

Surprisingly, the indian perception seems to me to be more flexible; even liberal if you will. There are no guidelines as to how things should proceed and how they must culminate. The spiritual almost essentially overshadows the carnal here and any physical expression seems only to mar the concept of love.

All said and done, its still funny how the focus seems to be upon definitions and notions of how things should be and not on how things are. How can the definition of love be generic when the concept of it remains based on the intimacy of feelings of one, two or more persons?

I mention more options than two simply because I refuse to believe that intimacy must exist only between more than one and less than three. Who can claim for certain that the saga of Narcissus was a wretched tragedy and not the ultimate romance? Who is to say all menage-a-trois lack love or intimacy? Why must every Columbine need a Harlequin so she may dance? Why must the saga of Chitrangada need Arjun to be immortal?

If you had to choose between the sparks of a moments intimacy and lifelong insipid romance, what choice shall you make?

My parents are visiting chennai now, and it's nice. Only, somehow, I've become so used to guarding my personal space, at times it becomes difficult to deal with them neing in the house. It's not a very nice thing I suppose, but I've been out of my house since the past seven years, and though it is nice to be pampered, it sort of gets to me at times. Well...all the worse as they are really not the nosy kind of parents...they leave me ample space...always have; right from childhood till now.

But the itch is still there, and its extremely self-deprecating!

PS: before you make any snide remarks about how young generation doesn't care for values and blah blah blah....well..i do, I love and respect them beyond most other things...but it still doesn't make things easy.

I bought myself a fountain pen again. After a long long time...

It feels good to write.

I'm Ross!!!

You scored as Ross, You're brainy Ross. Once a geek and now a hit with the ladies. Hope you have enough money to pay for all those weddings! Ross 80% Chandler 75% Joey 70% Monica 65% Phoebe 65% Rachel 65% Which Friend are you? created with QuizFarm.com

How many people do you suppose would admit being selfish and self-centred without feeling either proud or ashamed of it?

Why is it that we are not comfortable being what we are and who we are?

a new start...

I have a new job now....a new field and a new territory to explore...

A new start...

my orkut fortune today says i shall have a peaceful and prosperous old age life....

what was that???

Today my cat visited me and I said "This is a nice surprise!". Then I was very embarassed infront of her.

you told me that its important to be liked...i say yes...it is important that you are liked for what you are....

you told me that unless i conform someday i'll end up alone with the rest of the world on the other side...i say yes...but i'll still be up to face it by myself....i may be defeated...crushed...humiliated...but i wouldn't be any of those until that happens...

you told me so many more things...and i agree to all of what you say...but look around yourself...think....and breathe...you are alive!!!

I saw this movie today....it is called "Drowning Mona".

First thing....great name!!!

And then of course the movie was the kind of dark humour that I had expected. And I was wondering why we could not make more of these kind of movies....the type that you can relate to somehow..where the people are real people....where the situations are not necessarily realistic, but probable....and the people react like real people. I think we all could do with a lesser amount of melodrama or the hysterics..or the special effects....or the computer generated effects...or the amazing fight scenes.....

And for all the hype about acting skills and this and that...I don't get to see too much of good acting in the mainstream movies...hindi or english these days. The Hollywood movies seem to be churning out the same trash day in and day out....and the hindi movies are copying them badly....throwing in a few more songs....baring as much as the censors will allow...and add to that another half an inch of flesh...

Bad storyline, Bad acting, Bad editing....Great advertising. Good Heavens.

For those who maybe a bit interested...if possible, watch these movies if you get a chance. I am not saying these are the greatest movies ever made, but these are somehow real movies.

Zubeida(Hindi)
The Unknown Cyclist
Drowning Mona.
Familia(Spanish)
Midaq Alley(mexican)
Aguntuk(Bengali)


Will add to this list as and when I can.

...she woke me up in the middle of the night, and said, "...even when you're sleeping, your smile's askew..."

i didn't know what to say....and then i realized that she had been watching me sleeping. i suddenly felt overwhelmed.....i wanted to hold her close, but she said,"lets go up to the terrace and watch the stars."

i said,"lets".

It’s raining here today…its afternoon and I just got out of my room to throw out some garbage and I realize it is raining. The smell of the wet earth slowly cascades from my nose and mesmerizes every sense...it has always been like this. I live in an obscure port town named Tuticorin in Tamil Nadu. It is situated pretty close to Kanyakumari and far far away from everywhere else. I work in a chemical industry as a chemical process engineer. The job’s boring, but the pay’s good. Today’s my weekly off, so I am watching some movie on my computer and then I realize my room is in the unholiest mess. Well…I don’t really want to work today, but then you got to do what you got to do. So I clean up my room, and pack up the garbage in a plastic bag and go out to throw it away. And then I notice that it’s not the usual burning hot outside…there are shadows of huge clouds sifting through the landscape…there is no dust in the cool wind blowing…and its raining. It’s just a drizzle, I tell myself and yet I can’t help smiling. I breathe deep and soak in the smell of the wet earth. I look around and see the trees tossing their great mass of foliage about like tipsy dancers. I close my eyes and am transported back in time. I am in standard IV, and its raining cats and dogs in Silchar. I am on my way back from school and can hardly restrain my glee. I jump on the puddles and splash water all around. And then suddenly I slip and loose my balance…I’m about to fall down when my elder brother grabs my hand and prevents my fall. Dada has been standing my antics for a long while now and enough is enough he says. He is indignant and doesn’t take much effort to hide it. He is exactly three years older to me (we share our birthday); but as all elder brothers go, he thinks I am his responsibility and he always was the responsible big guy. But then I am the younger brother…so I grin my way to glory and jump at the next puddle. He gives up and walks along while I follow him…hopping and splashing. And then I am in the Xth standard, walking to my tutor’s place with my best pal. It’s about to rain and there are black clouds looming in the sky; the sun sending shafts of evening light through the clouds. And then I see this tree lit by the sunlight…dazzling bright against a twilit silhouette. I cannot move my gaze. After a few moments I turn to look at my pal, and I see he’s looking at the same tree….almost as if in a trance. Then suddenly he looks at me and smiles. We are both smitten by the sight and stay a little while longer to feast our souls on that bright green against the hazy background. But we are already late for our classes and so we leave. Two days later as we walk the same path again, we are stunned as we see our tree felled on the ground, cows and goats chewing at the drooping leaves. Some ancient rage rises through me, but I choke it down my throat. I smile at my pal and we walk away. But we talk of our tree for many a day to come. Now, I am in Hyderabad. I have just joined an engineering institute; well… three months ago, to be precise. The brutal ragging sessions finally got over two weeks back. It’s a weekend and I’ve come down to see a friend. We spend the whole day walking around this place where you can find a lot of second hand books. Now its evening and we are back at her place, sitting on the edge of her terrace dangling our legs, looking at the Necklace Road and talking about Wuthering Heights and David Copperfield and of everything else on this universe. We don’t realize it’s late and suddenly it begins to rain heavily. She looks at me and breaks out into a laugh. And then she tugs at my arm and says let’s dance. “But I don’t know how to”, I say. “I’ll teach you”, she says. “But we don’t have any music”, I say again. She smiles impishly and says “hear close…we do have music.” I concentrate and realize that the rain has cut off all sounds of the traffic; and all around the only sound is that of the raindrops falling. I want to dance. She takes my hand and places it between her shoulder blades and then she takes my other hand and proceeds to teach me waltz. We are completely drenched and cannot stop laughing at our stupidity. We dance a slow waltz in the rain till it’s not raining anymore, and the bright stars are smiling from heaven on two foolish kids. I dry off at her place and take her leave. I am happy. I’m in the final year of engineering. Its Durga puja holidays and I am in Konark now. It’s night and a storm is brewing. I sit on the Chandrabhaga beach and gaze at the sea frothing in some arcane fury. In some strange way, I can feel its pain in my heart. I am alone and there is no one else on the beach. It’s only the sea, the clouds, the moon and the occasional light beam from the lighthouse…and me. I gaze around me and lose the sense of time. But for my modern clothes, I could have been a solitary nomad on one of his sojourns. The jarring sound of my cellular shocks me back into reality. It’s a colleague calling to clarify a doubt. I finish the call, and throw away the garbage bag. I have got lots to do…finish the movie, clean up my room, water my plant, reply my mails and search for better career options. But before any of those, I’ll just step out for a moment and get wet in the rain.

Only in Japan

I got this as a forwarded message....this thing looks rather interesting i must admit....whether the idea is good or not....i am unable to judge.

thinking of you till it hurts...

'tis the air supply song again... I'm lying alone with my head on the phone Thinking of you till it hurts I know you hurt too but what else can we do Tormented and torn apart I wish I could carry your smile and my heart For times when my life feels so low It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring When today doesn't really know, doesn't really know I 'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you I know you were right believing for so long I 'm all out of love, what am I without you I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong I want you to come back and carry me home Away from this long lonely nights I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too Does the feeling seem oh so right And what would you say if I called on you now And said that I can't hold on There's no easy way, it gets harder each day Please love me or I'll be gone, I'll be gone. I also know that you'll never read this blog....so its rather safe....is it not?

sometimes...

sometimes i can't say shit from shinola. why is everyone so damn interested in tofu suddenly? i hate the taste....and the non-existing flavour. i call up the girl i've been seeing the last couple of days...and she says...she's gotta fly to singapore tomorrow and that she hates the idea...not that i mind...but she's gotta be there for 5 hrs and thats her god damn job and still she must whine about it....but i guess its worth cruising around chennai in the dark of the night...inhaling the lingering perfume...caressing the curve of her nape...and while i am composing this...i am talking to her and telling her that i am writing obnoxious things about her on the internet....and she's laughing ith me....i can almost see her laugh in front of my eyes and know that this is good...that i am happy right now....

and to think i still can't say shit from shinola....and i still hate tofu!!!

it's a mail thing

from the past few days my mailbox is being inundated by mails from rajbir, kenny, rathi and baishali....well what can i say....it sure feels great to receive mails....mails that have been composed and not just forwarded....its kinda intimate.....

and thanks to the ever increasing inbox size of my gmail account, i need not really worry about it getting full...so yeah....i'm enjoying this thing right now....it sure feels good.

well....looks like my blog is getting more and more texty if you know what i mean....

( texty??? what's wrong with me?)

anyways....think i have to upload a few pics to make it look nice.

i also need to check up the prices of microwave ovens....and i must get my net banking account activated.....

and i need to reply to those mails....

sent mails...

today the pressure was a bit less on my plant....all the machines were working fine. so i decided to take a small break and check my mailbox in a rather detailed fashion.....this i had not been able to do for quite a while now....

fortunately or unfortunately i cannot say, but in a completely freak whim, i decided to check the sent mails folder.....and i stirred the hornets' nest of memories....

who'd have thought that the yahoo saved the sent mails right till over 5-6 years back???

at least i had not....

but they do. so i was left looking at mails i had sent to all the people i had known over these years....some who have become close friends....some who had come close and then have gone away....and some who have just gone away....

there were these mails to the sister of a good friend of mine....i had met her when i'd gone over to their place and had stayed for a couple of days....she is one of the most charming girls i've met....and real funny too...and we had talked about books....and poetry....and about her kid brother...and future and so much more....and i had known...if i had a sister, i'd have wanted someone like her....and then we had mailed one another for a while....and then stopped....and i don't even remember her name right now.....and i'm out of touch with her brother too even though i have his mobile number...sad....right???

and then there were those mails to long forgotten chat friends....of girls i'd dated once..or maybe twice....mails to some school friends...who i have absolutely no idea whatsoever of at present

and yeah...there were these mails to this guy who had sent me a mail by mistake coz he wanted to send a mail to another abhijit deb roy, we too exchanged a couple of mails.....and then it stopped.

and those " hey how are you doing? i am doing fine....see you later" mails to countless number of people....

and that one mail to a friend who broke my heart....asking him never to contact me and wishing him luck...

so many things have changed in the past six years.....

i deleted those mails though, they still retain some sort of power over me...they still make me feel good, and sad....they still have the power to hurt me....

and i have stopped using that email address.

and yeah.....the polar bear waltz......

this is for neruda....


the whole wide universe is not wide enough
to hide that single speck of pain
when it eats away your soul and mind
do you still say love is insane?