More movie moments...

An unexpected outcome of the previous blog was a lovely exchange with mum on her favorite movie moments as well. She was also able to remind me of others I had forgotten…

The beginning - Big B confronted by the only actress who could stand up to him, her eyes blazing, he with a sneering smile, the music creating a furore in the background, a moment full of haughty (albeit overdone) imperiousness. The end - a battered B, a devastated Sri, come to each other in the middle of a raging battle. Sudden silence, she raises her hand to touch his blood soaked beard, he grins and draws himself to his full height. (Plaza, Del)

Z sat holding her baby stunned at the way fate had overtaken her life, as Lata’s voice expressed the same. Later, Z takes her life into her own hands and fights with her husband to be a part of his life in all aspects. And the last scene, where she dances…on the reel, with her son and mother watching her. Unexpectedly a story full of life and tragedy, that stayed with me long after the film ended. (Lido, Blr)

She was combing her hair in the front of the mirror, and runs her hand through her hair to smoothen it. And stops. Because she can feel another hand. In her hair. Probably the only chilling moment I have ever encountered in a Hindi film ! (Satyam, Chn)

A hotel room in HK. A montage of characters in the room – the don himself, his second command, the hero’s office pleading for truce, and the moll, who’s just come from India. Her suitcases can be seen in a corner. To me this little detail symbolizes the perfection of this movie. (DTs, Del)

The last overs of the cricket match, the tension on everyone’s faces…not the characters, but the audience. I have NEVER, EVER seen hundreds of people so collectively absorbed. (Chanakya, Del)

The play of light and shadow with the sudden bursts of color, the imaginatively choreographed sequences, the presentation of ideas in a format that screamed "off-Broadway" yet had the clinical perfection of modern music videos, the integration of the script with the songs, the on screen transformation of stars. (PVR, Del)

Movie moments

As I watched Lamhe on Saturday afternoon, I realised that despite the hundreds of excellent movies I have watched on TV (Star/HBO/TNT/DVDs), there is a special magic about the movie moments created in a theatre. Some that I could remember right now...

The darkened dome, the glimpses of red carpeting in soft side lights, Waheeda Rehman’s voice echoing in the wood paneled surroundings…my first movie in a theatre became my all time favorite. How many moments can I choose? When Anil K asks Sri if he can call her by her name? When the magic of Sri and Rajasthan and the blue n yellow outfit wove its spell in “morni baaga ma”? when Sri drives away in a car with unshed tears? When he places the necklace on her neck? The moments are endless, each one more magical and heart rending than the other.(Paras, Nehru Place, Del)

Baahon ke Darmiyan…the sheer sensuality of love, tender kisses, rain on the windowpanes, the tears and the passion, Manisha's scared, needy eyes, Salman's softness. (Tribhuvan, Majestic, Blr)

Leo was in the water, freezing to death. And Rose was on the wood plank, watching him die. And I sobbed into my hanky. And sobbed. And sobbed….(Chanakya, Del)

Ripples appeared on the surface of the water in the glass. From far off, a horrifying sound came. And the flooring under the seat trembled. Moments later, we all gazed open mouthed as the T-rex ran roaring after the trapped children. A few reels later, we clutched at each other when the preto (whatever..) jumped up through the gap in the steel floor. Excitement was forever benchmarked as far I was concerned. (Plaza, MG, Blr)

A nationwide hysteria was building up and I was only too happy to be a part of it. I stood in the long queue, purchased tickets with the last of my money, sat in the front row and happily mouthed the lyrics of each one of the 9 (10?11?) songs. I giggled at Salman’s wisecracks and cried at Renuka’s death. (Galaxy, Blr)

The movie started. The pulsating rhythm slowly built up into a crescendo of hypnotic beats reverberating through the huge hall. SRK jumped on the train and it was all I could to resist doing the same on the seats. (Chanakya, Del)

Mini sized theatre smelling of sweat and tobacco. I went there again and again and again. To get my fix of laughter. “mera naam crime master gogo hai” still has the same effect. (name forgotten, Majestic, Blr)

Trinity rose like a rexine coated eagle, hands apart, eyes pierced, legs positioned for maximum damage. Hard rock played in the background, the entire theatre sat stunned in silence, the man from ludhiana slept in the seat next to mine. And another benchmark was set. (PVR, Del)

Christmas Carol

Amidst the clutter that surrounds the soul, it seemed almost like an omen when the first thing I read on Saturday morning was “to love is to create beauty”. And so, in this Christmas weekend of “contrived gaiety, artificial lights and noisy revelry”, I didn’t crowd Jesus out.

There was U, whose pain was mine when he cried. And whose happiness was mine when he laughed.

And Divya, tired and bruised, who appeared to have found peace at last in the little bundle beside her.

The somber sight of the blood filled tube in her leg caught as much attention as the comfort of the shoulder that D offered S.

Dai ja whispered to a heartbroken Pooja “hawa ka rukh beti, hawa ka rukh” and captured the games that the wily heart plays with the innocent soul. Viren’s eyes spoke the language of hidden love when he asked Pallavi “kya main aapko aapke naam se pukar sakta hoon?”

8 hours of conversation, of a connection unexpectedly discovered. Of uncovering N, of being uncovered. Not shying away.

An afternoon of Mmmmm….indulgence and secret pleasure and heartbreak.

2 cups of filter coffee, plastic chairs and D. No pretensions, direct talk

Yes, the gift came “wrapped in foils of hardship, pain, affliction and sometimes even disgrace”. But I opened it. And after many months, the heart was not lonely.

Romance in December

Eons ago (actually 16 months ago) I had posted about some of my favorite romantic numbers in Hindi. Today while driving to work, I suddenly realised I had missed out 2 crucial ones...here's the updated list -

Yeh Vaada Raha" - a smile on your face, mischief in your eyes, sunshine all around, the kind of song that is 'our song'!

"Bahon Ke Darmiyan" - slow, deep bliss ; being a part of one another ; whats there on your face? Is it the rain or tears?

"Jab koi baat..." - a pleasing tune, easily hummable. simple, poetic lyrics that dont make you stretch. sung with a slight smile and genuine emotion

"Woh pehli baar.." - sheer exuberance of first love, all the ecstacy without the pain

"Na to karavan ki talaash hai.." - never mind that I dont understand one third of the words, I totally understand the song. The passion, the detailing...the mix of love n faith n spiritual angst...the technically perfect singing. This song defines bliss for me.

"Yeh kahaan aa gaye hum..." - on the surface, a pleasantly tuned typical Hindi film song. But listen carefully to the tone of Lata's voice at some points, its bittersweet. Hear the words which Amitabh uses, he's in love and he's angry as well. This is a song that you can hum and think about at the same time.

To start the day...

The most appropriate quote for a bluesy Monday morning...

"Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it " - Ellen Goodman, American journalist

Hot Hot Hot

Am still waiting for the engineer to come ("come"...hee hee..) and decided to cheer myself up by posting a list of Hot Hot Hot people (yes, its to be said like that - 3 times)...this is in no particular order, of course.

Paul bettany
Johny depp
Joaquin phoenix
Adrien brody
Marisa tomei
Michelle Pfeiffer
Uma Thurman
Sushmita Sen
Catherine Zeta Jones
Rahul Bose
Rahul Khanna
Arjun Rampal
Matt damon

Blah

In typical Me style, I have gone out every single day of the week, but today on Friday will go straight home and watch TV.

Am totally exhausted (thanks to last evening's discovery called Irish Flag - a shot of vodka/irish cream/creme de menthe combined)

Had loads of work today...have just a shitload of mails to be finally be able to get control of my to-do list...only to get a shitload of undeliverable messages due to some unknown reason. Am now waiting for a engineer/angel to descend to my humble abode and unveil the mystery of life (i.e why is my mailbox weird?) so that I can finally LEAVE!!!!

I have to work tomorrow as well. why? because i worked slowly today so i wasnt able to complete my work. why did i work slowly today? because....

Blah.

Vulture

Made a new friend yesterday - N.

Fresh meat. he he....:)

Got my eye on 2 more. Target - end Jan.

Mysterious facts

(warning - the interesting title is where it stops. This post is as boring as all previous ones)

Its Sunday evening, I am pleasantly buzzed. It’s a combination of inadequate sleep last night, irregular food today, a cheerful afternoon and of course, the three (or four) drinks I had at FP in the evening.

True to the tradition of semi-autobiographical ramblings in this state, established by numerous friends and acquaintances, I hereby submit my contribution (that will be read through and assessed (and sneered at) in a more sober state of mind in a few days...or months)

Facts -

1. When it comes to people (and with me, it invariably does), I would instinctively say that I prefer long term relationships and so on. And yet so many ghosts walked with me when I went for a stroll – avijit, meet, ruchika, shefali, vicky and several more. Intense connections that somehow didn’t survive. The unlikely did survive though – sid is one example. Mystery.

2. I have never had a serious relationship, a formal date and never got drunk. More mystery. This one is simpler, though. The linkages are easy to establish

3. I get turned on by nice hands, sensitive eyes, a civilized voice and a love for rhythm. Pretty faces, hot bodies….yawn. Solid talent….yeah. Yes, I am an alien. The only mystery is how I reached here

4. I kept trying to change myself. And I thought I changed. Then I realized I had just changed at the surface and screwed myself in the bargain. So I started being myself again. Soon enough, being myself made me want to change again. But I had burnt my hand once, so I struck a bargain with myself – I will pretend to have changed but not try to convince myself any longer. Throughout this, there wasn’t that much change in my behavior so no one really had a clue to this internal madness and hence the entire mind games were pretty much redundant anyway. Its now at a stage when even I am not too sure where I stand any more. I do find it funny, unfortunately the humor just reinforces my cynicism. It also causes the disaster eve with M. 2 mysteries - why the disaster?? (answer - god help me). And why the linkage between all this "change" analysis and M?? (answer - ha...go figure)

1 hr allowed, content controlled

Safe, sanitized communication. Controlled environments. Emotions kept at bay. The soul guarded. Clock ticking away. Exit option always available. Extension option rarely available.

I could let my distaste surface and indulge in nostalgia....when two people spent time together, did things, talked, connected.

Or I could ignore the past and accept the present with a smile. The tools (sms, car, list of restaurants, perfume, interesting anecdotes) are ready, the body willing, the mind torn, the soul silent.

hi how r u

"hi how r u"....."fine, how about u"...."cool"...."u heard something funny....?"...."nice movie"...."what plans for the weekend"..."my boss is a *%&*$#"...."he looks good"..."doesnt she look cute"..."nice clothes, where did you get them"....in online chats....emails....long distance phone conversations....short distance phone conversations...sms exchanges...dinner/lunch conversations...coffee chats....over-drinks bonding.....

so many channels, so many intersections, so many words, so little said.

Cynicism and Cheer

I wish I could come with better subjects than the types which are a direct reflection of what my post is all about. But then thats how my communication usually is - quite simple and direct. I realised this during the seminar too - unlike so many presenters I admire, I am rarely able to weave a story around any presentation and make it more entertaining. My presentations are usually content dependent and since the content is usually quite staid, the delivery is pretty straightforward.

Anyway, this post is not about communication styles...its about 3 unrelated incidents yesterday which left me feeling miserable. Of course, the sense of misery probably won't come through because I am feeling much better today, thanks to a Shaan special on radio today morning....he always brings a smile to my face!

Mum mailed sending a detailed view on how anjan's and dolly's discussions are going regarding their future plans. Keeping in mind current financial situation/future savings/job opportunities/baby plans etc., they will most probably be staying in Dhk for another 2 years. Naturally no one is actually happy about this decision, but what needs to be done etc etc. Why is this upsetting? Because recent incidents have left us feeling even more insecure and I would like to be around the people I love the most and because this impacts my plans for staying in Blr/Del or somewhere else and because this is linked to so many other thoughts n fears n apprehensions that I dont even want to go down that path....

I had my PM rollout yesterday and decided (masochist me) to make it less about process n timelines and more about discussion on PM principles etc. As a result, probing questions during the presentation revealed a TL declaring that he hadn't seen his DP for 2 years; 100 people admitting that they haven't looked at their goal sheets for the past 4 months; another employee declaring her belief that the elements of SA, GS and DP in the PM process could be done away with and we could just focus on the ratings part; and barely 20% of the population murmuring a soft "yes" to whether PM process adds any value to them or not. Why upsetting? The perception of PM process as a formality; the non realization of the potential of the PM process as a potent career tool; the reaffimation of my increasing cynicism around HR Ops; the implied failure of our managers to build quality in the process.

Deliverables around communication assigned to C, N n A. None of them met, no revert either. This despite reiterating the criticality of these tasks, despite the advance notice of a week, despite knowledge of the consequences. Why upsetting? The team hasn't learnt; there continues to be lack of sync in value system and work ethic; the credibility of the team itself is in question.

The precursor to this day was my observation over the weekend which I had described in the previous post - about people just scratching the surface of others' realities (this is arguably one of the worst sentences I have ever written, or anyone has ever written). These 4 together strike at the very heart of my current mindscape - family ties; passion about work; leading teams; people/relationships. These incidents/observations strike and explode and leave me wounded, the hopes/fears/apprehensions/depressions unveiled and exposed. To be confronted and tended to. I have a feeling that's what the next year is going to be all about. M got his answer.

Extremes - within and around

My 2nd Bombay trip in as many months and the effect of the city remains the same, despite the fact that I spent hours each day just commuting. I don’t think the fascination can be explained by the standard words – the energy, the enthusiasm, the work ethic, the night life. When I feel a sense of comfort even in an area which is jammed with cars, swimming in pollution and throbbing with get-set-go youngsters, I know that there needs to be some other reason that prevents me from hating this place! If this had been a novel (especially penned by a young Indian writer), I would have undertaken a journey (that the blurb would have described as “a spiritual pursuit”) that would led me to the discovery of having been born and brought up in a stinking by lane in Bandra in a previous life. There would probably be a cat there that is immortal and remembers me when I walk in through the rusted gate (everything in Bombay rusts).

Anyway, for some time I actually seriously evaluated the option of moving to Bombay next year instead of Delhi, if Dolly and Anjan don’t come back. The seriousness of these intentions was vastly reduced when I landed in Bangalore, “twenty degrees and very pleasant” in the words of the Jat pilot. However, this is probably the reason I seem to getting an itch to move to Bombay…the comfort zone I have developed in Bangalore…and my current role. There’s nothing wrong in being comfortable except that I have grown to firmly believe (through unfortunate experience) that difficult times are usually around the corner and this current sense of comfort will make me a “softie” and hence ill equipped. I like the way my insecurity about myself falls in love with my wary view of the world and conspires to keep me paranoid at the best of times. Only the Paranoid Survive, as a management book (exceedingly popular when I was in B-school; naturally I never read it) informs us.

The people interactions too were more or less pleasant during the trip. The seminar itself I don’t want to write about, I have too many observations to note and none of them earth shattering. But the state of juvenile delinquency that Venkat and I were reduced to was great fun. It brought back school/college times, except that now we were indulging it at a seminar in a 5-star, surrounded by professionals from other companies, for which we (i.e. our company) had paid Rs.12500. The Thursday night out was also great fun, though it was slightly marred by my state of sleep deprivation and exhaustion. We roamed around town, on foot and in cab, had great food n drinks at different places, finished with an ice cream and took a train back to our guest house.

Friday was a little disappointing, when I met V for a shorter time than expected. However, it was pleasant enough – coffee followed by a walk through Bandra. All was as expected – the passion, the humor, the acute observations and the tendency to live and think and breathe in extremes, which I guess is a typical big-city trait. Its there in Delhi too, but in a different way. There the extremes are more lifestyle oriented – the over gregarious, wealth displaying types and the more middle-class, equally gregarious and desperate in equal measure types. In Bombay (and increasingly in Bangalore), I find this extremity coming through more in personality types – the mature, values-driven, experienced ones who are also very boring and the cool, fun, interesting, been-there-done-that types who lack emotional depth and maturity. Though this sounds like sweeping generalizations, they are not meant to be. I am not saying that people are like this, so compartmentalized….what I am saying is that people tend to graduate towards one of these ends of the spectrums. In a way, the current generation is as merciless in demanding stereotypes from its own as the much-berated previous generation was. Except that nowdays they are smart enough to package even its stereotypes into items that scream “individuality”, never mind the reality inside. Come to think of it, who cares about reality anymore? Its all about projection. Even when relative strangers like V and I meet, is it really about sharing reality with another person or is it more about telling the other person about the reality you want him to see? It’s all becoming one huge exhibition where everyone is busy selling themselves without bothering to look at the other. This is quite a depressing train of thought and is probably the reason why I feel incredibly low this weekend.

Sid n J was ok…a good coffee-lunch-dessert routine saved the afternoon from being a disaster. Disaster because both of them tend to go towards one of the extremes described above; disaster because I would like to get along better with Sid but he doesn’t allow me to; disaster because I was basically quite depressed about the various thoughts in my mind about people; disaster because it was hot (which always gets me irritated); disaster because Sid n J themselves didn’t much have chemistry. Considering all the potential for disaster, Saturday ended up being unexpectedlt pleasant and Bombay filled (as J obliged my cravings by driving through the most obscure lanes in Bandra-Mahim-Juhu!), not to mention food that lubricated the way!

And today I am in my bed, reading-eating-typing. Ahead lie chores (straightening up the house, grocery shopping, laundry) and an evening out with M. That shall bring along its own baggage of thoughts and emotions, so I am glad I have exorcised thru this post some of the baggage I have carried for the past two days.

While I have spoken about the extremes around me - cities/culture/people - I am constantly reminded of the fact that the world around us is a reflection of ourselves...there is no absolute reality, because our view of the world around is dictated by the view of our own selves.