My last few days as an NRI (though I never saw myself as one, but lets not get into that and be termed unpatriotic or anti-national) and I have decided to vent it all out. If you are wondering what NRI is, fear not, it is not transmitted sexually. It is the term used for the Indian diaspora - Non-Resident Indian.
I have been in the States for thirty years. My children were born here and speak with a funny accent. I am returning to India now. To lead a quiet, semi-retired life. I have earned a lot, and being born in a generation that my son now not-so-affectionately calls 'people who did not know how to enjoy life', saved most of it. I can afford to withdraw from the rat-race.
In my years abroad, I have often read comments from RIs, the Resident Indians (or Real Indians, as they'd like to call themselves) that I have betrayed my country by joining hands with the white dudes. They coined a word for that - 'Brain drain'. I am not selfish but I see no rational in sacrificing my life (or my brain) for a country, mine or someone else's. I refuse to be limited by man-made boundaries and concepts of National pride. Now if someone wins an award, plays a sport or does something noteworthy, the Indian media tries manufacturing pride from that. Mr. So-and-so won this prestigious award and later when he farted, the one closest to him was an Indian. He says that he was hit by the smell the strongest. Isn't that something we all should be proud of? Bollocks.
I maybe right, I maybe wrong. Let's not debate that. I am set in my ways and nothing you say or do is going to change that. You can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Don't start wagging the plane ticket in my face and say that if I am returning to India now in my old age, it is because of the emotional strings that connects me to it. Bullshit. My return is for reasons other than emotion. Economic perhaps. It is cheaper to live in India with a live-in hired help. And I have nephews and nieces who'll fall over themselves to be of assisstance. Come visiting, and hear me talk. And I can get good dosas everyday. What? That I enjoy my dosas doesn't make me a patriot. It is a convenience not a bond with the soil. Does liking pizzas make one an Italian?
That my son and daughters haven't enough time for me is not because they grew up abroad (and weren't instilled with Indian values), it is because they are highly successful and have a life of their own. I don't expect anything else from them.
And then there are these kids, my cousin's boy one of them, who watch some movie in the social-fantasy genre and go about rambling about Indianness and social responsibility. If you ask me, these movies should be banned and the film-makers shipped to Guantanamo. This kid, I forgot his name, drugged by this 'we can change the world' shit, wrote about how all we NRIs do is complain. "Stop complaining about our bad roads or traffic or pollution or lack of water supply or poverty or illiteracy or...", he writes. I want to tell him, "You idiot! If we are complaining, it is because you are not".
Oh! forgive me, Mr. Stephanopoulos. I haven't even offered you anything. Coffee or tea? Old age, uh? Can't stop the talking.
Time whizzes by and I, I write of glimpses I steal
Monday, March 05, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Mani-bhai
The thing about shit is that even the most sweet smelling shit, the most tastefully decorated shit, shit with caramel topping and a cherry on top is still, ultimately shit. Turd. Useless. Maniratnam's Guru is that; visually stunning and aesthetically pleasing shit.
Most of the reviews that I read were about how, even if it wasn't spectacular, the movie was worth a watch. I beg to differ. It is without any doubt Maniratnam's worst movie. The movie wasn't too bad if someone was making his/her debut feature. It was very ordinary for an experienced 'auteur' and if you consider that it was by (allegedly) the best director in the country, you begin to wonder if there is any hope for Indian cinema.
To be fair to Mani, I don't think he fared badly as a director. He wasn't at his best but could easily be forgiven. His inexcusable failure is that of the scriptwriter (which incidentally wasn't credited to him or to anyone. Yup! That sounds right. It did look like a movie without a scriptwriter). Either you have lost it sir or you tried to accommodate the script for the 'ever-so-mysterious' North Indian audience. There was no cogency, the songs were a joke and the script was incomplete and ideologically flawed.
Sir, if I may, can I make a humble request. Please, please stop trying to make movies in Hindi. (Is it your lack of understanding of the language or the people that works against you?) If you don't want to make a movie in Tamil, make one in French or Spanish. Or Elven for all I care. But not Hindi. They don't like you and you trying to bend yourself backwards to please them is not going to help. Like a Harry Potter novel, Mani sold out (but in a totally different sense). He pimped himself to make money. Mani fans, don't start lynching me. I don't hate him. I love him dearly and that is why I can't accept such substandard stuff from him.
Mani, either intentionally or inadvertently mirrors himself in Guru's character; the manipulative bastard. I can read the movie as a metaphor to his own cinema. Mani is of course the protagonist Guru; the one who gets greedy enough to sell his soul. We, his faithful fans, who first saw in him the spark of genius and the burning desire to make better cinema, are represented by Mithunda's Nanaji. We love him and we can't see him flounder and remain unmoved. Aishwarya Rai is the visual aesthetics that he brought to Indian cinema (unchanging in its beauty). Meenakshi is the hope of the Tamil filmgoer for world-class cinema. It was born with multiple-sclerosis and died with this movie. Maddy's Saxena represents the independent media (myself included) who are willing to be not overwhelmed by the halo around Mani-bhai's head and to write fearlessly to right a wrong.
Read another way, Guru, like Mani's earlier works, Roja (1992), Bombay(1995) reflects the current mindset of the majority; in this case our nation's euphoria and the India poised campaign (see previous post). Success is made out to be so important, that we, as a society have been granted license to take shortcuts to make money. With a justification that is as elegant as George Bush's speeches. A whatever-it-takes approach for the purported 'greater good' is rationalized as being 'not wrong'. That's what great people do and that is what greatness is. Whoever says so otherwise is saying that only because they are jealous.
BTW, the whole monologue at the end of the movie, in the courthouse was so ribticklingly hilarious and illogical that I expected one of the judges or at least someone in the press gallery to laugh out loud. Keeping in mind Mani's management background, I thought he must have planned it as a parody. And Priya, it is quite evident that the hostile judges are converted by his inspiring speech.
Mani was wondering why people still remembered him as the director who made 'Mouna Raagam' (1986) and 'Nayagan' (1987) and hoped that after Guru he'd be remembered as the director who made Guru. For his sake, I should hope that people forget Guru soon and not relate it with him at all.
What happened to you, sir? I wonder, surely one can't become senile at the age of 50, can one? But on a more hopeful note, the thing about shit is, even the greatest have to get it out once in a while.
Most of the reviews that I read were about how, even if it wasn't spectacular, the movie was worth a watch. I beg to differ. It is without any doubt Maniratnam's worst movie. The movie wasn't too bad if someone was making his/her debut feature. It was very ordinary for an experienced 'auteur' and if you consider that it was by (allegedly) the best director in the country, you begin to wonder if there is any hope for Indian cinema.
To be fair to Mani, I don't think he fared badly as a director. He wasn't at his best but could easily be forgiven. His inexcusable failure is that of the scriptwriter (which incidentally wasn't credited to him or to anyone. Yup! That sounds right. It did look like a movie without a scriptwriter). Either you have lost it sir or you tried to accommodate the script for the 'ever-so-mysterious' North Indian audience. There was no cogency, the songs were a joke and the script was incomplete and ideologically flawed.
Sir, if I may, can I make a humble request. Please, please stop trying to make movies in Hindi. (Is it your lack of understanding of the language or the people that works against you?) If you don't want to make a movie in Tamil, make one in French or Spanish. Or Elven for all I care. But not Hindi. They don't like you and you trying to bend yourself backwards to please them is not going to help. Like a Harry Potter novel, Mani sold out (but in a totally different sense). He pimped himself to make money. Mani fans, don't start lynching me. I don't hate him. I love him dearly and that is why I can't accept such substandard stuff from him.
Mani, either intentionally or inadvertently mirrors himself in Guru's character; the manipulative bastard. I can read the movie as a metaphor to his own cinema. Mani is of course the protagonist Guru; the one who gets greedy enough to sell his soul. We, his faithful fans, who first saw in him the spark of genius and the burning desire to make better cinema, are represented by Mithunda's Nanaji. We love him and we can't see him flounder and remain unmoved. Aishwarya Rai is the visual aesthetics that he brought to Indian cinema (unchanging in its beauty). Meenakshi is the hope of the Tamil filmgoer for world-class cinema. It was born with multiple-sclerosis and died with this movie. Maddy's Saxena represents the independent media (myself included) who are willing to be not overwhelmed by the halo around Mani-bhai's head and to write fearlessly to right a wrong.
Read another way, Guru, like Mani's earlier works, Roja (1992), Bombay(1995) reflects the current mindset of the majority; in this case our nation's euphoria and the India poised campaign (see previous post). Success is made out to be so important, that we, as a society have been granted license to take shortcuts to make money. With a justification that is as elegant as George Bush's speeches. A whatever-it-takes approach for the purported 'greater good' is rationalized as being 'not wrong'. That's what great people do and that is what greatness is. Whoever says so otherwise is saying that only because they are jealous.
BTW, the whole monologue at the end of the movie, in the courthouse was so ribticklingly hilarious and illogical that I expected one of the judges or at least someone in the press gallery to laugh out loud. Keeping in mind Mani's management background, I thought he must have planned it as a parody. And Priya, it is quite evident that the hostile judges are converted by his inspiring speech.
Mani was wondering why people still remembered him as the director who made 'Mouna Raagam' (1986) and 'Nayagan' (1987) and hoped that after Guru he'd be remembered as the director who made Guru. For his sake, I should hope that people forget Guru soon and not relate it with him at all.
What happened to you, sir? I wonder, surely one can't become senile at the age of 50, can one? But on a more hopeful note, the thing about shit is, even the greatest have to get it out once in a while.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Quick tale: Music
'You should feel the music, man!', he said, 'it doesn't matter if you understand it or not'
'I simply don't get it. How do I do it? I can't listen to some music where the only words I can make out are expletives', I managed a weak response.
'There is an energy to the music and you should let it carry you,' he gesticulated, 'Go with the ebb and flow of it. And keep listening to it enough times and you will get the lyrics. Maybe it is not Wordsworth, Shakespeare stuff, but it is cool, man!'
I rolled my eyes. 'Forget it. Maybe I don't have that deeper sense of music that you do. I'll listen to stuff that I can understand. You stop trying to convert me. I don't feel that I lose anything in life if I can't listen to someone rap about having anal sex'
'Oh! you are incorrigible. I shouldn't be even trying to educate you. What a waste of my precious two minutes'
The rest of the drive, we spoke nothing, me trying to think happy thoughts and him singing along 'An ass like that'. Thankfully it took us only one rendering of an Ass like that to reach our friend Karthik's place.
Karthik had just bought an amazing Hi-fi stereo system in the Christmas sale and we were here to celebrate it. He was, like the true Madrasi that he is, listening to A.R.Rahman. Dil se, arguably the master's best work, was playing on the stereo. In Tamil though (I didn't realise that it was made into Tamil as well... but then I do remember that it was a Tamil director who made the movie).
Our rapper hero got wild. 'Come on dude! You can't play this music. Varun and me don't know Tamil. If you have Dil se, the original Hindi one that is, then lets play that. Or else I'll run to the car and get my CD pack'
'I simply don't get it. How do I do it? I can't listen to some music where the only words I can make out are expletives', I managed a weak response.
'There is an energy to the music and you should let it carry you,' he gesticulated, 'Go with the ebb and flow of it. And keep listening to it enough times and you will get the lyrics. Maybe it is not Wordsworth, Shakespeare stuff, but it is cool, man!'
I rolled my eyes. 'Forget it. Maybe I don't have that deeper sense of music that you do. I'll listen to stuff that I can understand. You stop trying to convert me. I don't feel that I lose anything in life if I can't listen to someone rap about having anal sex'
'Oh! you are incorrigible. I shouldn't be even trying to educate you. What a waste of my precious two minutes'
The rest of the drive, we spoke nothing, me trying to think happy thoughts and him singing along 'An ass like that'. Thankfully it took us only one rendering of an Ass like that to reach our friend Karthik's place.
Karthik had just bought an amazing Hi-fi stereo system in the Christmas sale and we were here to celebrate it. He was, like the true Madrasi that he is, listening to A.R.Rahman. Dil se, arguably the master's best work, was playing on the stereo. In Tamil though (I didn't realise that it was made into Tamil as well... but then I do remember that it was a Tamil director who made the movie).
Our rapper hero got wild. 'Come on dude! You can't play this music. Varun and me don't know Tamil. If you have Dil se, the original Hindi one that is, then lets play that. Or else I'll run to the car and get my CD pack'
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