tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76802262024-03-08T01:05:00.985+05:30schrodingers bekkuthe collapsing realities of a random ramblerShenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.comBlogger238125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-63295686229970005842020-10-14T03:53:00.007+05:302020-10-14T22:08:52.325+05:30PASHUBALA by K. Shivarama Karanth (Chapter 2) <p style="text-align: right;">(before you read this here below, <a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.com/2020/10/pashubala-by-k-shivarama-karanth.html" target="_blank">read Chapter 1 here</a>)</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">PASHUBALA</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">— K. Shivarama Karanth </span></b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><u><b>Chapter 2</b></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><u><b><o:p></o:p></b></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><u><b>“THE FIRST VOYAGE”</b></u></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Today is a momentous day. The first of March. Everyone stands
on the shores of Gateway Island with an air of anticipation and impatience. (Readers,
the group considered their secret location a doorway that would lead them to
Mercury and so had named it Gateway Island.) This was the date they had all previously
agreed upon. Kline and Dennis will have to embark on this historic journey
without the outside world having any knowledge of it. But the joy and
enthusiasm they had earlier has waned. Even Kline looks downcast. The fact that
Loben is not with them is preying on his mind. “Why has Loben not returned even
after so many days have passed?” he thinks, worrying for his friend. But even
in such circumstances he didn’t want to step back on a decision they’d take. He
was stubborn in that way. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Whatever happens, we need to start today itself” he thinks and
in the moment, “But how can we leave before Loben returns?”. Sensing his
conflict, Wilson suggests, “Can we not postpone the launch?”. Kline doesn’t
agree. Neither does he explain his reasons for saying so. Their new space-plane
stands ready. Everyone on the island base is waiting to see it soar away.
Daylight fades. The stars slowly start twinkling in the sky. “Come my friend, let
us go. What else can we do now but leave”, a crestfallen Kline says to Dennis as
he makes his way to the space-plane. A lone tear escapes from his eye. Wiping it
off before anyone can notice it, he boarded the space-plane. The designated time
of launch is close.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The rest of the people in the group were still wondering
among themselves, “Where is Loben? Couldn’t he be here by now at least?”, oblivious to the fact that Kline and Dennis were making their way to the space-place.
Suddenly, less than half a mile from where they were standing on the shore,
Loben’s submarine surfaced. Overjoyed, everyone started waving at him. Kline
noticed this and in that instant the shadow passed from his face.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Where is Kline?” asked Loben the instant he set foot on
land, running towards his friends. As one, they pointed to the space-plane. Loben
immediately set off towards it at a brisk pace, with the others following
closely behind. No one knew the reason behind Loben’s impatience. Reaching
Kline, Loben took out a letter and placed it in the former’s hand. “Can’t
someone else go in your place?” he asked. Silence. “We have to then postpone
the launch by four days”, said Loben. Pat came the reply, “That is impossible”.
Loben didn’t have the heart to argue with his closest friend. Finally Kline
said, “Dear friend, that is a foregone conclusion. It is indeed heart breaking news.
But isn’t that what we humans have to experience anyway always?”.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What followed was a conversation on other matters between the two friends.
Checking all the instruments on the space-plane, Kline and Dennis prepared
themselves for launch. Joy, excitement, fear, impatience were all reflected in
their faces as these two brave adventurers hugged each other. Kline switched on
the space-plane. What now? In a few moments, they would get on and lift-off
towards Mercury. Suddenly, remembering that was one last thing he’d forgotten
to give Kline, Loben reached out and stuffed a small object in Kline’s pocket.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Soon, the space-plane disappeared into the sky at an
astounding speed. Prof. Du Bois and Loben quickly made their way to the
observatory and started looking at the craft through the telescope. The rest of
the group stayed back on the shore gazing at the craft and finally started
walking back to the base. The space-plane that was just a speck had by now disappeared
from sight. It would take Kline and Dennis three to four months to reach
Mercury. There was nothing to do now except wait by their instruments until the
two landed at their destination and transmitted any news.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Our readers would be curious to know what transpired in the
conversation between Kline and Loben, as also about the construction of the space-plane and
its functioning. We will attempt to describe this incredible interplanetary
vessel to the best extent possible.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">But first, the matter of the news that
Loben had come carrying. To understand that, all we need to do is listen in on the
conversation that followed between the people left behind.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Prof. Du Bois: </b>Old friend, all of us were exhausted just
waiting for you. Even allowing for delays and a slow, careful journey, we had
expected you here by the twentieth of February. What is the reason behind this
inordinate delay?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Loben: </b>I would have been on my way here much before that. But
some domestic matters made it impossible for me to leave as scheduled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Edmund Wilson: </b>Domestic matters? What domestic matters could
a bachelor like you have?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Loben: </b></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If it was my own personal affair, I would not have bothered too much. But this was a
matter with Kline’s family. Every time I went to meet her, his wife would
insist on coming here with me. But with no way to bring her here without
arousing suspicion, I kept making excuses. This time when I went to their
house, I found her bed-ridden and sick.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Prof. Du Bois:</b> Sick? What illness was she suffering from?</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Loben:</b> Typhoid.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Wilson:</b> Then she would have been cured by now.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Loben:</b> Oh yes, extremely cured!</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Wilson:</b> What do you mean by that?</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Loben: </b>What can I say, friends? She passed away waiting to
get one last glimpse of her husband. I made all the arrangements post her
death, finished her funeral and only then could I leave.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Prof. Du Bois:</b> What did you hope to achieve by giving us this news
now? If you had informed us earlier, I would have volunteered to go to Mercury in
Kline’s place. Poor fellow. It is a very unfair thing we have done, letting him
embark on such a journey in a state of grief.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Loben:</b> I spoke to him about this very same thing. I tried to
impress upon him that he should not be the one to go. But he brushed aside my objections
just as he refused to be swallowed by sadness. Leaving now as planned is the
right thing to do he said. Despite his grief, I could see his enthusiasm and
thus, I could not but wish him well and let him leave.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Wilson:</b> Truly, such commitment to our project is
commendable.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Loben went and opened
it to let one of the workers in, who then proceeded to place a small package on
the table at which they sat. “Oh what a careless fool I am!” exclaimed Loben as
he collapsed into a chair. The blood has drained from his face. Shocked at his
reaction, the others made haste to open the package. What did they see inside? The
Light-o-Phone that Kline and Dennis were meant to take with them. It had been
left behind!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Meanwhile aboard the space-plane, the Light-o-Phone was
furthest on Kline’s mind and he would not think about it till he reached the
end of their journey.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The first thing he
had done after lift-off was to inspect the pendant Loben had given him. It was
a keepsake that his wife – on her deathbed, having given up all hope of ever seeing
her husband again – had sent to Kline to remember her by. Was it an expensive,
jewel-encrusted pendant made of a precious metal? Not at all! It was a simple
pendant made out of ordinary copper. The only thing that could be considered valuable
about it were the two words inscribed on them. This pithy statement was the
distillation of his wife’s life experience, what she had learnt through her
dealings with people throughout her life. Her final gift to him. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Turning the pendant around, Kline finally saw the words, “Ignore
gold”. Kline did not have an inkling of what she meant by that. But since his
wife had sent this message to him it must be important he thought. Keeping the
pendant safely back in his pocket, he looked out of the window. What did he see
in the space he was travelling in? Trees? People? Dwellings? Nothing. All he
saw, in every direction were just the silently twinkling stars. Letting out a
sigh, he made his way next to the navigation instruments and sat down.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Now it's time for a few words about this new interplanetary space-plane: The
craft was oval in shape. But its extremities were not as curved like an egg but
sharper like the ends of a boat. It had four propellers at each end. Currently
the four propellers in the front were working, accelerating the space-plane
forward. If the propellers at the rear of the craft were switched on instead of
the ones in the front, the space-plane would move in reverse. It was impossible
to accurately measure the speeds that the space-plane was capable of. When it
was in motion, you could only see the propellers. If you saw the space-plane
while in flight, it would be impossible to sight by the time you blink again.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What about the two voyagers during their journey of 48
million miles; how would it go? As soon as they boarded the craft, they shut all
the windows and concentrated on their journey wasting no time. Once they
reached outer space there would be no air to breathe. For this reason, apart
from supplies of food, they also carried with them canisters of life-sustaining
gas. They would get their supply of oxygen from these to last them for the
duration of their onward journey. It was their firm belief that Mercury had a
breathable, Earth-like atmosphere.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">On to the question of the space-plane’s energy source. This
too was the result of Kline and Loben’s extraordinary prowess. If they used
petrol as the source of energy for the craft, it would never attain the speeds
required to reach Mercury and neither would it be possible for any vessel to
carry the large amount of liquid fuel required onboard. This they had known
from the outset. That is why the first device they invented and constructed was
an engine that could generate electricity in outer space. I has been surmised
by some that this device worked on the principles of a repeating rocket, but
that would mean the craft would not be capable of a return journey. But such matters
are beside the point. Let us return to the matter at hand, which is that this
was a self-powered space-plane that could generate as much electricity as it
needed through the entire duration of its journey. With no limit on the power
it could generate to power itself, it could achieve impossibly fast speeds. Over
the course of its journey, the space-plane would reach a region where the
gravitational pull on it from Earth would be the same as that of Mercury’s. A
little beyond this point in interplanetary space, there was no further need for
the front propellers. The reason? Mercury’s gravity would start to pull the
space-plane towards itself. But this does comes with its own risk. The closer the craft gets to Mercury, the faster it will accelerate. The higher its
speed, the more are its chances of crashing into the planet and getting destroyed
completely. This why the space-plane had been equipped with rear propellers which
would, once switched on, pull the craft in the opposite direction. By
controlling the rotary speed of the rear propellers it was possible to slowly land
the craft without any danger to its occupants.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Given that the space-plane was almost completely opaque and
that its occupants would need to see and know where they are, it was also
equipped with a viewing instrument. Through this, its occupants could look at
their surroundings and gauge their current location and thus steer the craft towards
Mercury. Across the exterior of the space-plane ‘glass-eyes’ had been
installed. These are not really eyes made of glass but newly invented instruments
that can be said to like telescopes. Whatever was outside the space-plane, these
‘glass-eyes’ would not just reflect but magnify manifold, while at the same
time, combining the views from all directions into a single picture so that
they could see Mercury clearly.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What else did these voyagers need? A place to sit and sleep in
comfort that would not be affected by the vagaries of the space-plane’s acceleration
and changes in direction. This problem was solved with the use of delicate
instruments and a mariners compass so that they would not be affected in the
least by the law of inertia. All these and many such fantastic instruments were
being used by the two intrepid voyagers in their first voyage.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Let us return now to the people left behind on Gateway Island. It has
been three months since they have been separated from their two friends. They
have not been able to spot or locate the space-plane using their telescope. The
reason? At the distance it is at, that craft is smaller than a minuscule speck.
They have also been unable to know about the progress their friends have made
and their current situation. The reason? The two voyagers simply forgot to take
the Light-o-Phone along with them. All that the group now awaits is that one
signal that their friends have landed on Mercury safely. The signal in question
being the light from an immensely powerful electric torch that was stored on
the space-plane. Loben, Prof. Du Bois and Wilson had confidence in their
friends that when they reach Mercury, the torch would be the first equipment
they would use and so had trained their telescopes on spotting the light from
the torch – instead of looking for the space-plane – in hopes of catching the
signal. One they eagerly awaited. As per their calculations, they should have spotted
the signal in the fourth month itself.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It has been five months now. And the people on Gateway Island have yet to see the signal or any signs of it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">As regards Kline and Dennis in the space-plane – in the
second month itself, on schedule, they had reached the region where the gravitational
pull from Earth was the same as that from Mercury. They had switched off the
front propellers of the space-plane as planned. It was now being pulled towards
Mercury through its gravity alone. In the third month, once their craft had
started to accelerate extremely fast, they switched on the rear propellers to stabilise
its speed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">At some point, Kline looked at the shimmering planet fast
approaching, checked their speed and relative location as always and said, “Okay
then, we shall reach in another two days”.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dennis:</b> Two more days you say? Why so?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Kline: </b>Yes. Our rear propellers are counteracting the
gravitational pull of Mercury but it seems our speed is still steadily increasing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What he did not say was that he was now truly worried. To land
on Mercury is one thing. But to land alive was another matter altogether; it seemed
like a remote possibility now. He calmed himself and tried to think. He
switched on the front propellers too but reversed the direction of their
rotation. This helped reduce the speed of the space-plane.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">They were now a few miles from the surface of Mercury. But
where do they land? A little further away, Kline saw a region that was blue in colour. Assuming
it to be an area of an ocean deep enough, Kline decided that it would be the
ideal location to land, if not to float. His guess turned out to be right. It
was indeed an ocean. But the clear black objects under its surface indicated rocks,
which most likely meant it was not of great depth. If the ocean had been deep
enough, the space-plane would’ve sunk to its depths and then
slowly risen back up to float on its surface. But unfortunately our space-plane, having
crashed into this water, disappeared beneath the surface never to be seen
again!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>NEXT:</b> Chapter 3 – ARE THEY HUMAN? OR INHUMAN?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p></o:p></p>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-31838112539682424602020-10-05T23:54:00.007+05:302020-10-14T03:54:44.173+05:30PASHUBALA by K. Shivarama Karanth<p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Kota Shivarama Karanth. Writer, novelist, environmentalist, folklorist, performer, science communicator, essayist, activist, polymath, legend, renaissance man. The third Kannada writer to be awarded the Jnanpith Award (after Kuvempu and Bendre) for his novel, Mookajjiya Kanasugalu. He breathed new life into Yakshagana. To write about him would take many a page, but you get the idea. Do check out the wikipedia page on <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K._Shivaram_Karanth" target="_blank">Karanth</a>. One little-known fact about is that he also wrote science fiction stories. Two among these being ಮಂಗಳ ಗ್ರಹಕ್ಕೆ ಓಟ (Mangala Grahakke Ota; Race to Mars) and ಪಶುಬಲ (Pashubala; 'Brute Force', lit. Animal Strength), a story first published in 1928 in Vasantha magazine. For context, this is a whole decade, ten years before 1938, the year usually attributed to the beginning of the 'Golden age of science fiction'. As things stand, this is the first 'ವೈಜ್ಞಾನಿಕ ಕಥೆ' (Vaigyanika Kathe; the term used for 'science fiction' in Kannada) which makes it the first science fiction story in Kannada. Pashubala then represents not just a landmark in Kannada and Indian literature but also in world SF. A first-contact story, Pashubala tells the story of a group of scientists, inventors and explorers who come together to mount an interplanetary expedition to Mercury in search of aliens, and explores the reactions and ramifications when humans make contact with an alien society. Pashubala is not just an example of the versatility of Karanth as a writer (because this story is clearly by someone who understood the genre and what it was capable of) but also his always-curious mind, his philosophical bent and his scientific temperament. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUb28xbk3lnIBW2OPfMy3lrTAAMyQKhhnGprjP62-Fs_a7SSXJ6J6Rg4nSSphyphenhyphenpkxmTDt9GowIqsymn13cXvfKi5TbF9A05lA_0nqEpCfLD_q1I51VsA8rraMKi2XK8O0HlIg5/s2598/specfix+%252311+-+karanth.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1211" data-original-width="2598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUb28xbk3lnIBW2OPfMy3lrTAAMyQKhhnGprjP62-Fs_a7SSXJ6J6Rg4nSSphyphenhyphenpkxmTDt9GowIqsymn13cXvfKi5TbF9A05lA_0nqEpCfLD_q1I51VsA8rraMKi2XK8O0HlIg5/s320/specfix+%252311+-+karanth.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br />Pashubala is currently available in its original Kannada version in two books: In the anthology ನಾಳೆಯ ಕಥೆಗಳು (Naleya Kathegalu) edited by Savitha Srinivas & first published in 2008 by Sahitya Akademi, and in the collection, ರಂಗಪ್ಪನ ಗೊಂಬೆ ಹಾಗೂ ಇತರ ಕಥೆಗಳು (Rangappana Gombe Hagoo Ithara Kathegalu) published by Geethanjali Pustaka Prakashana. To the best of my knowledge, this story has never been translated into English, which is a terrible thing to happen to a landmark story such as this. So, for my own personal enjoyment and while at it, to do my bit so that non-Kannada readers and SF fans everywhere can read this story I started to translate it. Purely for non-commercial reasons and all copyright rests with the owners of it thereof. Now on with the story which i hope i have done justice to with my translation, this being the first non-advertising work I've translated, stumbling a bit upon the prose of that age and Karanth's vocabulary which includes neologisms he came up with to describe/explain things for which there was no Kannada word. I will be putting up the translation of Pashubala as and when i finish each chapter. I hope you stay with me through the story. Everything you love about it is all due to the late great Shivarama Karanth. Any mistakes and whatever you don't like is my doing. Anyways, here goes.</span><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">PASHUBALA</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">— K. Shivarama Karanth </span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><u>Chapter 1</u></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><u><o:p></o:p></u></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><u>“THE PALACE OF THE
SKY”</u><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Prof. Du Bois:</b> Friends, our work for today is done. All arrangements
needed for our newest invention to work are also finished. Isn’t it high time
we set a date for our first expedition? There is no point in delaying it further.
Remember, our base may not stay secret from the outside world for longer. All of you must have surely noticed the monoplane that flew above this new home of
ours a few days ago. We may have avoided being detected thus far, but in this
age of airplanes it may not be possible to keep our base secret for much longer.
If its location is revealed and made public before our project reaches
fruition, people will surely make their way here. If that does indeed happen,
what then is the use of all these years of secrecy?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> Prof. Du Bois, the location of this island is not
known to anyone except those of us working on this project. If as you fear, some
people do find out about this base, what can they do? Will they arrive by ship to
this island? In anticipation of this very problem I have placed underwater explosives all around the island. Will any ship be able to make its way through them
all?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Edmund Wilson:</b> It is true that no one can approach this
island through the sea. But what stops them from taking the aerial route?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> Even if they come in airplanes, perhaps one or
two may attempt to land. If that does actually come to be, we will be
able to see them landing and to deter them. We have enough arms and ammunition
on the island to discourage them don’t we?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Prof. Du Bois:</b> Be that as may, we must not delay our launch
any further. It has been six years since we came to live on this island to work
on this great adventure of ours. It has taken us this long to get everything ready
and make all the arrangements. Even if we launch now, we do not know how many
years more it will be before we know the full results of our project. Kline,
you are a young man. But my friend, Wilson and I are not. Our hair has already turned
white. We are most curious as also impatient to know about the harvest we shall
reap from our efforts.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> If that is the matter, I have no further objections.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>John Dennis:</b> What is the date today?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> January 21.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dennis:</b> Hmmm…then in the next few days let us run all the
final checks on our solar space-plane and examine it thoroughly and set the 1</span><sup style="font-family: helvetica;">st</sup><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">
of February as the date on which we bring our project to fruition and launch our
craft.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> No! That is impossible. We cannot do anything of
that sort until Loben returns. If you want, we can launch the very next day
after he returns but not before that. Don’t forget that he is making
arrangements for a second space-plane. He is also procuring all the parts as
per our specifications for the dictation machine, speaker, recorder and other
components which we need to wait for to create the Light-o-Phone (</span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">ತೇಜೋಭಾಷಕ</span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">). Without it, what is the use of going on a voyage? Apart from all
this, what if he gets angry that we didn’t wait for him to return before going ahead
with the launch? Let us not entertain any thoughts in this direction.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Wilson:</b> So what
do you think is a suitable time?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">As soon as Loben returns. It has been a week
since he left. He should have reached Germany by now. It will take him a
fortnight to procure everything and make all the arrangements we need. So I think
he will be able to return only in the middle of next month. Don’t forget that
he cannot leave when he wishes. He needs to leave Germany in our submarine
without arousing any suspicion and away from prying eyes. If you consider this
delay, I can hazard a guess that he will reach here only by the twentieth of next
month. Given this, I suggest the first of March as the launch date. I am sure my
English and American friends will not approach the end of their old age by
then.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Wilson:</b> Kline,
if you want to put it like that, let me tell you that I am confident I will not
die before I’m a hundred years old! But let us not dwell on such matters. What
is important is that the first voyage has been postponed to the first of March.
Dennis, I hope you are in agreement.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dennis:</b> Wilson,
we may be older and grey-haired, but when it comes to subjects in which Kline
is an expert, with more experience in such matters, I think it is advisable to
listen to him regardless of his age.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Prof. Du Bois:</b> It
is settled then. Now about the second matter. Who will be the fortunate travellers
in the first voyage of our space-plane? I think it should be one among the four
of us. Five if you include Loben. For a voyage as important as this, I don’t think
we should consider the workers and complicate matters.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> That is
correct. They are not qualified enough. It is also futile to consider Loben for
this task. He is the only one amongst us who can keep the base supplied with all essentials
covertly. Wilson
and Dennis are very old. That leaves Prof. Du Bois and myself. Furthermore, both of
us are willing to take the life-threatening risk.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Prof. Du Bois:</b> This
is an excellent suggestion!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Wilson:</b> No! This
will surely not do. When people like me are around, who have lived their life,
it is not right to put the life of a talented young man like you at risk.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dennis: </b>There is
merit in what Wilson is saying. At the end of the day, only two people get to
go. Instead of nominating people, selecting candidates from amongst us and
debating them, why not leave it to each one’s luck?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> Leave it
to chance? What you mean by that?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dennis:</b> What if we
draw lots?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Dr. Kline:</b> Looks like
our dear friend here hasn’t forgotten his horse-racing and gambling days. But
fine, let us do as he suggests and draw lots.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">(Once this was
decided, each person’s name was written on a separate piece of paper and two such chits
drawn).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>Wilson:</b> John
Dennis and Dr. Kline!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The place broke
into a happy uproar. Dr. Kline and Dennis were wholeheartedly cheered. The reason?
Fate had chosen them to be the lucky ones to undertake a journey like no other.
One was a youngster, the other an old man. Everyone on the island base came and
congratulated them. But of the two, it was Dr. Kline who people had faith in
and trusted more. He was an extraordinary person. “He will bring glory to the
inhabitants of Earth”, they said.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">But who is this
person who will bring glory to the inhabitants of Earth? Such a question will
naturally arise in the minds of the readers. What adventure is he embarking on?
What new exploits await him? Surely they are curious to know the answer to
these questions.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Dr. Kline and Loben
are two young men from Germany. Being of the same age, they were in the same
class since childhood and were thick as thieves, the best of friends. After finishing
his education, Dr. Kline started a research centre in Berlin city. His friend, Loben
also joined him there. From the beginning, they were both driven to make new discoveries
and invent things. They did not have any one direction or a particular field in
which they wanted to conduct research or a singular point from which to begin
their research. All they knew was that they will dedicate their life to science
and discovering new things. The bonds of their friendship were strong. Neither
Dr. Kline’s extreme wealth not Loben’s lack of money got in the way. Dr. Kline
never let his wealth go to his head. He is now nearing thirty years of age. After
all these years, there is no fear that he will let his financial position change him. Whatever
is mine is Loben’s too and whatever we get belongs to
both of us. This was what he believed, making their friendship firmer.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">One or two years
after establishing the research centre, both Dr. Kline and Loben found
themselves curious to know more about the planet Mercury. It was fortunate that
Dr. Kline had spent the latter part of his higher education studying astronomy.
At the same time, people were also getting interested in Mercury. Some had even
decided that a similar earth-like society existed there. One day when
they were together, Loben asked Dr. Kline, “What do you think of studying about and researching into Mercury?”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“What do we stand
to gain by just doing research? What do we care what Mercury is like? If you
are interested in going there, then let me know. Let us go to Mercury together!”
replied Dr. Kline in jest.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The joke took root in Loben’s mind and soon became a personal mission.
Loben started researching widely and deeply about Mercury; collecting any and all
information and experiences about the planet from all the sources he could find. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">One
fine day he went to Dr. Kline. “Look at all this. The result of my extensive research.
My part of the job is done. The rest is up to you. To come up with a way of
getting to Mercury is your responsibility. You know much more about electricity
and other things than I do. Why not put it to good use?” said Loben. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“I concur”, Dr. Kline replied with a nod. But
who would assist him in this project, where would he find such people he
wondered. The thought of a secret location far from any human habitation where they
could start and finish this project as desired also crossed his mind.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">A few months later, there was an international scientific
conference held in Germany. Scientists, research students and inventors from across
the world were expected to attend this prestigious event. I should make good use
of this opportunity thought Kline. And so he did. Among the people who had come
to attend the conference were the aforementioned Prof. Du Bois, an aviation expert
from Paris city, and Edmund Wilson from the United States of America.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">After the conference was over, Kline invited both of them to
his research centre. He spoke to them about the project and asked them many questions
and once he was convinced that they would be ideal members for the team he decided
that he should join hands with them to complete the project. Of the two, Du Bois was not
just an expert in aviation systems but also adept in avionics. But like
Loben, he was a man of limited means. On the other hand, Wilson – while not a
scientist – was the son of the richest man in America. This meeting ended with all of them forming a secret group.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The next matter at hand was about finding a suitable location
for their base of operations. In a time of economic and political turmoil,
it was not feasible for the base to be set up in any of their own countries, be it Germany, France or America. At this juncture, an Englishman called John Dennis came
to their aid. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Dennis was an explorer. He was also the brother of Wilson’s wife
and it was natural that they would be on good terms with one another. As soon as the meeting was over,
Wilson contacted Dennis at his residence in Glasgow city and asked him to come
to Berlin city. Dennis arrived soon after and it can be stated that the place that
they were looking for came about as a result of his explorations. Due to some reasons,
Dennis had not disclosed its location to any person or any periodical. A big
island in the middle of the ocean which had not yet caught the eye of any country
or other explorers. Dennis laid down a condition that he should be made a part of the secret
group if he was to disclose the island’s co-ordinates, and so he was accepted into their circle.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It was thus that this group of inventors and adventurers
came to be. The conversation that we were privy to at the beginning of this
story took place six years after the secret island base was established. Since
then, everyone in the group had lived on the island itself, readying for a great
new adventure. The story was circulated that they were all deceased – except
for Loben – as the result of an airplane crash. Only Loben now lived in Germany,
making sure he kept the island base supplied with everything that its
inhabitants needed, and then too in secret using a submarine. The only person from
the outside world who was aware of this group and the goings-on in the island
was Loben.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">A few words on what this group achieved in the past six years
are in order.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Their greatest accomplishment since they embarked on their
project was the construction of a vessel capable of travelling to Mercury, a
modern space-plane. It was completely new in all aspects, a model unlike anything that
existed. It was an inter-planetary craft that could generate its own
electricity in the vacuum of outer space and use that to power itself. It could
however only seat two occupants. There was just enough room to accommodate the occupants
and a month’s supply of all the things they would need during their journey.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The
other object that they created was the Light-o-Phone mentioned earlier. This
little device had three main parts: a ‘composer’, a ‘writer’ and a ‘speaker’. The
‘speaker’ component had a powerful light source through which messages could be
transmitted. The light from this lamp is capable of travelling up to a million miles across
space. However, this light is on a spectrum invisible to the human eye. If you are
within a few miles of this transmitted message with another Light-o-Phone in your
possession, then the ‘writer’ of your device – which contains a strange new
type of mirror – will reflect the message for you to read. No matter how distant,
using the Light-o-Phone it is possible to carry out a conversation using light
itself, almost instantaneously. Until Loben returns to the island, along with the components required to complete this device, journeying
to Mercury is out of the question for a simple reason: If the space travellers
do reach Mercury, should there not be a way for them to communicate with the
group back on Earth?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What an impossible, astounding adventure this is! But hasn’t
the desire for name, fame and glory made people embark on equally impossible
voyages?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b>NEXT:</b> <a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.com/2020/10/pashubala-by-k-shivarama-karanth_14.html" target="_blank">Chapter 2 – THE FIRST VOYAGE</a></span></p>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-49118634589283355462016-07-14T17:13:00.000+05:302018-08-10T00:06:30.052+05:30From not-a-review of Brahman Naman to a very selectively subjective overview of Bangalore Quizzing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Brahman
Naman. Also known as Netflix’s first Indian film.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">And
fast becoming a Rorschach test that tells you more about the viewer and
reviewer than about the film itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Do
note that some of the words I have used below are harsher than they should be and
maybe unfairly extreme. That is intentionally intentional. You are free to take
offense, if you think I’m referring to you. I don’t think I am. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">The
only people who can genuinely claim to truly ‘get’ Brahman Naman are the people
who actually quizzed in Bangalore in the 80s. They have their own reasons for
doing so. That said, here’s the kind of people who like the film, or will claim
to even if they really didn’t:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">•
Quizzers, mostly Bangalore quizzers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">•
People who want to be considered quizzers or Bangalalorean because both are cool
to be<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">•
Quizmasters who will now mine the film for future questions or fundas, as they’re
called<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">• People
who attend quizzes (I won’t insult them by calling them quizzers), especially
from other cities and have seen Bangalore’s (serious) quizzers for what they
are and Bangalore quizzing for what it’s become <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">•
People like me who are glad we left regular quizzing but still in Bangalore and
can still wash it all down with some sense of nostalgia and misplaced loyalty
to the sport I once loved (yes, quizzing is a sport!) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>So
is this film about quizzing? I think not.</b> It’s just a way-in. A convenient Macguffin.
Not least because the writer Naman Ramachandran used to be a Bangalore quizzer
in the 80s. But there’s no way he could’ve cut to the triviality and futility of
it all if he hadn’t quit quizzing (I am assuming that because else as they say,
the (quiz) lovers cannot see, the petty follies that they themselves commit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">The
film is basically about hormone-driven college boys trying to get laid. But in
between doing that they have to do something right? With the starting point
that they have to be nerds, not jocks, as all high school movies have shown us.
In India, can’t make them a team of master debators. Or chess players. Quizzing
fits the bill quite well thank you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Now
coming to the protagonists – the quizzing boys themselves. The closest comparison
I can find to the quizzing boys in Brahman Naman are the geeks from Big Bang
Theory. While it looks ostensibly like the show is celebrating geek culture,
like BN does to trivial pursuits, the reality is that BBT is merely giving the
world to laugh at those geeks and their social awkwardness where even a waitress
who’s not been to college can get the better of physicists. Same with BN. The
world isn’t laughing with these unlikeable quizzers. They are laughing at them.
Laughing would be stretching the truth a tad bit too much. Because it isn’t that
funny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>Yes,
the world is laughing at you quizzers, and not in a good way. </b>And saying you are
not even worthy of their pity, leave alone a shred of sympathy. They’re saying
you’re sex-starved fuckers, if by sex they also mean ‘no life to speak of’. Yes,
Naman would still be a thoroughly unlikeable person even if he didn’t quiz, but
it is his quizzing that gives him misplaced sense of superiority and makes him
a bigger douche, and a more insufferable arsehole. The problem is not with
quizzing, but with the fact that he has made quizzing the cornerstone of his
identity. Because that’s the only thing he’s good at perhaps. Some of the
nicest people I know who quiz and are good at it would still be nice if they stopped
quizzing, because they don’t define themselves by the “quizzer/quizmaster” tag,
and most importantly, don’t wave the size of their fundas in other people’s
faces at every given opportunity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Brahman
Naman would not be that much enjoyable for anyone who doesn’t get the subtle real-world
connections thrown in. That the Calcutta quizmaster is actually De Rack o’Brain's father.
Or that a Celsus funda thrown about on a train journey is a tribute to a kind and
gentle old military officer. That in the character of Henry, you can see shades
of an equally good, if not-so-gentle man. I am sure there are so many more I am
missing. But then, I wasn’t in Bangalore then, and definitely didn’t do quiz.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">So,
if this film is really not about quizzing then who spending so much time on the
quizzing aspect of it? Well, you see, quizzers have a way of making everything about
themselves. Especially in the closed, and uninviting sub-culture that
is Bangalore quizzing. And they have to make everything about themselves
because it is their raison d'être. Everything is a funda to them. If a thing cannot
be used as a question in a quiz, then it is useless and not worthy of their
attention. I used to be there. And professional – read serious – quizzers have
a way of making it all about themselves and when not comparing each other’s
funda to see whose is bigger, have made the whole quizzing scene unwelcoming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>And
like any person who has done quiz, I have to make this about me.</b> I used to do
quiz very regularly till a few years ago. And like that virus which doesn’t quite
leave your system even though you had chicken pox when you were a kid, the
keeda of being a quizzer still hovers around in your system somewhere and you
have to go back to get that fix, because the quiz is on a subject you like or you
know for the quizmaster is not going to show off but instead ask decent
questions and about arcane trivia. The whole scene is unwelcome, but a few good
men who still remain make it bearable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I
used to do quiz in the pre-facebook era and before email quizzing groups became
commonplace. Before it became “cool”. Before being a geek was ‘cool’. By which
time then ‘quizzer’ had become a badge of honour and people were queuing up call
themselves quizzers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I am
fortunate, nay blessed, to have quizzed in a time when <b>a kind old man – one of
the best, greatest people I have had the pleasure of knowing and spending time
with – embodied the spirit of quizzing</b> as a welcome social activity and as a
sport played with true spirit of sportsmanship. Not superstars and quizmasters
who use quizzes to overcompensate. A great great man, thinking about whom,
still brings tears to my eyes. I have sat next to the man as a scorer during
one of the last quizzes he quizmaster-ed and have seen with my own eyes and
heard with my own eras, in the shaking voice of an old man he kept reading out well-phrased
questions from a page he held with in his shaky hands. I am fortunate to have
quizzed then, not with today when some questions are either copy-paste tracts
of gibberish enough fill a full ppt slide slide (in 8 points, arial) or sometimes
show an image with the question being eloquently articulated in two words, ‘Put
Funda’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I am
fortunate to have quizzed with – and participated in quizzes by –<b> a man who
made quizzing fun</b>, who used his vast store of knowledge to tell us more about
the world around us and used questions – that were easily work-out-able to tell
us about things worth knowing, and – not as sadistic instruments of torture and
as mechanisms to show off intellectual superiority and vastly superior
knowledge (read wikipedia surfer) to assuage his insecurities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I
am fortunate enough to have done quiz in a time when a quizmaster would measure
the success of his quiz by the number of full points and generous part-points
awarded not by the number of questions unanswered. In a time when a quizmaster
would be happy to see his question answered and not revel in making a poor
newbie feel like an ignoramus. <b>Being a quizmaster was a responsibility to be
taken seriously, not a privilege to be abused.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Fortunate
enough to have quizzed in a time when the QMs quizmaster’s decision was final
and not when they are being browbeaten into awarding points to a particular answers
only because a participant thinks so, or even worse bludgeoned into taking back
points already awarded because the answer was just not acceptable to a
particularly senior participant. Because you see,<b> you have to show off your bigger
funda</b> go one-up on the quizmaster himself with a ‘better answer’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I
am fortunate to have quizzed in a time when newbies were most welcome and made
welcome by veterans who wore their seniority with grace. In a time when not
every quizmaster was expected to have attended every quiz in India in the past
two decades lest he commit the cardinal sin of repeating a question that was
asked in say, a quiz in Indore in the second week of August 2003. If a QM does
commit that sin now, he will be suitably punished with ample scorn and a
disparaging remark from the veterans of today with that most loaded of insults,
‘repeat question’ or even worse ‘cheap funda’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>Are
all quizzers that bad? Of course not.</b> But most of them I think have left the
scene or have just given up like me or maybe I don’t know for sure because I’m
not a quizzer anymore or maybe, because it is just hard to spot them amidst all
the ‘<b>whose funda is bigger</b>’ brouhaha going on and the one-upmanship so
prevalent now, indulged in by people who I presume go home to their
refrigerators with one hand holding their laptop as they cycle through their
question slides. A good funda – that no one has spotted yet or one that you’ve
created – is as orgasm-inducing as a brazzers siterip, you see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>Are
there no good people left in quizzing? Of
course there are. </b>There are gentle folk, gentle giants, Bangalore outsiders and
people genuinely worth knowing outside of quizzing, trying to keep the spirit
of quizzing alive, but all their voices in a quiz are lost in the clamour for
that extra half point by the “serious” quizzers who I presume go home to their aquariums
with the score sheet in hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">It
hurts. To see quizzing become what it has become now. Unwelcoming. Intimidating.
It was always a sub-culture, but at least it was inviting. And I hope it will
be sometime in the future. And again may Bangalore be genuinely worthy of the
title ‘Quizzing Capital of India’ not because of the quantity of its quizzes,
but because of their quality. Not because it has a few of India’s best
quizzers, but because it so many of them. Once again, may the points flow
generously and may the flow of new people to quizzes increase. May all the good
quizmasters once again share their knowledge with us all through good questions,
and make us better informed about the world about us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">— End
of rant —<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-90380088967363139852015-03-12T18:15:00.000+05:302015-11-25T16:06:08.777+05:30Aamir Khan is NOT a pretentious prick<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Aamir
Khan has apologized for hurting people’s sentiments with PK. Is that something
you would expect a pretentious prick to do? No. Only a cynical person would say
that perhaps he finally watched his own film. Completely. Properly. An ever more
cynical person would say that now that he’s done earning all the crores, he
milking it for some more. Is there no room for non-cynical thought in today’s
world? Pretentious prick it seems!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Aamir
Khan is a publicity hound they say. But is it really his fault that the media report
on what colour underwear he’s wearing today? Fault him for wearing underwear, if
you will. But then so do you. Does that make you a pretentious prick? No sir. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Do
you know Aamir Khan became vegan today? That means no meat, not even dairy
products. He drinks his tea now with soy milk. Do you know what ultimateness
level of sacrifice this is? On a level of 1-to-Sonia Gandhi, that’s like a 12.
And you dare call Aamir Khan a pretentious prick? I dare you to drink tea with
soy milk. I double dare you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Despite
what nature has done to him, Aamir Khan still loves nature. And you? You who
call him a pretentious prick, insult a garden lizard. How do you know what the
IQ of a garden lizard is? Who’s a pretentious prick now?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And
you know what? Aamir Khan – who you call a pretentious prick – watches a documentary
about the advantages of becoming vegan and the perils and ill-effects of meat
eating etc and internalized it so much he became a vegan. Aamir Khan is much
too humble to say this, but I can bet you that if Mr. Perfectionist watches a
well-made documentary about polluting power plants and internalized the
imperative for renewable energy, he would become an eco-friendly windmill. If
he chose to that is. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">On a
side note, Chethan Bhagat is not the Rakhi Sawant of Indian literature. He is the
Charles Dickens of India. You obviously haven’t heard of rediff.com where the anointment
happened. So please stop your hectoring and cloaking your ignorance in what
passes for supposedly funny. If you want to be funny, call Rakhi Sawant the
Chethan Bhagat of Indian filmdom.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Do you
know who invented dyslexia in India? Aamir Khan! With Like Stars on Earth (IMDB
rating 8.5).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Do
you know what’s the only reason Narmada Bachao Andolan is brought up today? Aamir
Khan! He bachao-d the Narmada Bachao Andolan.<br />
Do you know Aamir Khan has the same number of English Premier League medals as
Steven Gerrard? Of course not! That’s because Aamir Khan is humble. He does not
trumpet his achievements. That makes him – and I say this again – humble. Not a
pretentious prick as you call him, or rather want him to be.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I could
go on, but if you haven’t realized the unfairness and injustice in calling
Aamir Khan a pretentious prick by now, you never will.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In
fact, you know what? You should be thankful to Aamir Khan. For keeping his halo
switched off at all times. Else you would be burnt, like Kamadeva burnt by
Shiva’s third eye. Is such thoughtfulness a trait of someone who is supposedly
a pretentious prick? Huh? Huh?<br />
<br />
So stop it with all the name calling. And being judgmental. You are just
jealous that you cannot be like Aamir Khan. You cannot be, no matter how hard
you try. Especially if you are above 5’6” in height. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Remember
this. Pretentiousness is a state. Of mind. Like poverty. Aamir Khan lives in
Maharashtra.<br /><br /><br /><br />EDIT: in case you've not read the original blog post that said that Aamir Khan is such a pretentious prick: <a href="https://heartranjan.wordpress.com/2015/02/19/why-is-aamir-khan-such-a-pretentious-prick/">https://heartranjan.wordpress.com/2015/02/19/why-is-aamir-khan-such-a-pretentious-prick/</a></span></div>
</div>
Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-24672311649069197772014-06-23T12:27:00.000+05:302014-06-23T12:27:10.981+05:30Kannada remakes can (usually) be deceiving: Not quite a review of Drishya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: 9pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At
first my father was apprehensive about coming to watch Drishya. So was I for
that matter. The usual Kannada standards applied, so I’m not surprised. Even
when it comes to remakes, Kannada filmmakers have a way of trying to go overboard
in ‘Kannada-fying’ films, adding masala and unnecessary frills to suit what
they think is ‘local taste’, not to mention cheapass songs and innuendo. And
with Drishya having Ravichandran in it, an item number wouldn’t have been out
of place, script and character be damned.<br />
<br />
But he turned receptive to the idea when I told him that it’s a remake of the Malayalam
film, Drishyam. And because he hold them in high regard and is a fan of, he
gave in. So off we went, the full family, to watch Drishya, still not without a
sprinkling of trepidation of what to expect. But we were most pleasantly
surprised. Drishya turned out to be quite a faithful adaptation of Drishyam. In
fact, some minor elements were even improved upon. Giving Sadhu Kokila’s character
a slightly different spin & background worked as well. And in my opinion,
Achyut Kumar’s depiction of the corrupt constable is a shade better than Kalabhavan
Shajon’s. Definitely deserves a big pat on the back. Ilayaraja’s music and
background score just added that extra touch. Equally nice was Shivaji Prabhu’s
portrayal of the IG’s husband. The actress playing the IG by the way, is the same
in Kannada as well.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9hTqQ9SUe3D2cILkZ_6JwxdOZXyXdMR7A5xbp5E2xH7ZF_o-_bVsHaH2Zhv7S2wQYoL3Bp1ZDHs4YMY2xYIYyPd-o3GKsGkEuY4OdM6xj4LZ3Ky2StyMsm5LhypBOb_mSsPH/s1600/drishya-the+bekku.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9hTqQ9SUe3D2cILkZ_6JwxdOZXyXdMR7A5xbp5E2xH7ZF_o-_bVsHaH2Zhv7S2wQYoL3Bp1ZDHs4YMY2xYIYyPd-o3GKsGkEuY4OdM6xj4LZ3Ky2StyMsm5LhypBOb_mSsPH/s1600/drishya-the+bekku.jpg" height="400" width="252" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 9pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And
of course, Ravichandran. Apart from a passing catch-it-if-you-will mention of ‘anjadagandu’
and ‘premaloka’, he seems to have made peace with the reality that he isn’t the
crazy star anymore, and instead should be an actor. Not close to Mohanlal of
course, but an appreciable and effective effort nonetheless. All in all, a recommended
watch. And if you like me, would like to watch Kannada movies with full family but
usually don’t find any that that you could take your parents to, this would be
it. Tell them it’s a Mohanlal movie, like I did. Usually seals the deal.</span></span></div>
</div>
Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-39222515123040978992014-06-03T13:45:00.001+05:302014-06-03T13:45:35.772+05:30The deja vu during Gozilla was Gamera<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As a Kaiju movie fan, I liked the new Godzilla, but I kept
getting this feeling of déjà vu. So I went back to the one movie it most
reminded me of, Gamera: Guardian of the Universe (1995), and sure enough there
it was. Or rather, there they were. Many instances of ‘inspiration’. Or perhaps
it was Gareth Edwards’ way of paying tribute. Nothing takes away from the fun that Godzilla was, because perhaps there’s nothing much really
to be read into except fodder for kaiju fanboys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;">#1: </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The reason the kaijus woke up. Due to the change in the
environment, especially radioactive material.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;">#2: </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The principle of ‘balance’. For every MUTO, there is a
Gojira. For every Gyaos, Gamera was created.<o:p></o:p></span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>#3: </strong></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>The most tenuous similarity of all from the scratching-the-bottom department – the use of flares to illuminate
Gamera. Used to good effect in Godzilla.</strong></span><br />
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;">#4</span>: <span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Kaiju diving into the sea and disappearing. The last
shot is almost replicated almost the same (excepting the couple of frames with humans in
Gamera).<o:p></o:p></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have a feeling if I watch Godzilla again, I’ll find more
such instances, but the rips are still a sometime away. Till then, that’s all
folks.</span></div>
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Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-73033032998774380312014-03-13T13:40:00.001+05:302014-03-13T13:41:45.161+05:30Being called ‘Hitler’ is perhaps the best compliment a leader could get in India today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No
one will admit it in public. It’s a question of political correctness after
all. How can you forget the gas chambers??? But then in an era of fleeting superficiality
and skin deep strong beliefs, that’s a just a minor detail to be ignored. That’s
where people come from when Hitler comparisons are denied in public. But the
truth lies between this show of political correctness and the ground realities.
Because if Rahul Gandhi does persist in comparing Modi to Hitler, it could
prove to be unproductive to the extent of making people see Modi in a new,
positive light. Yes, Positive. Because when you look at the big picture, Hitler
in India isn’t a hate figure, a demonised person, a villain. Actually the truth
is just the opposite. And here’s why I think so.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKkPIpG_lNz9RDIoeHAPe-M8S6nEcGbc5_YfkCyL55MGT-7yJtX0-JcibHin9gd3Xn10I-5Hj7LhmMuybQH0npzsJUpumYt05FkkbFZtKu03PYD2L79f1zl4Q-L0W84acYuJE/s1600/F%C3%BChrer,+ein+volk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKkPIpG_lNz9RDIoeHAPe-M8S6nEcGbc5_YfkCyL55MGT-7yJtX0-JcibHin9gd3Xn10I-5Hj7LhmMuybQH0npzsJUpumYt05FkkbFZtKu03PYD2L79f1zl4Q-L0W84acYuJE/s1600/F%C3%BChrer,+ein+volk.jpg" height="320" width="220" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To
put things in context look at the situation prevailing in India today. Lack of
a strong leadership, and an Indian’s search for the same. A rising sense of
(misplaced) nationalism, jingoistic in its nature. It is exactly here that
Hitler, in the opinion of many people, scores, especially youngsters. And that’s
all people know, or want to know. Here was a man who loved his country, a patriot,
a strong leader who made his nation strong again. A disciplined man with
leadership qualities to be admired. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And we Indians have always been prone to ‘hero
worship’ be it sportsmen or politicians, and especially of military leaders. And
Hitler fits all these very many moulds quite nicely. And the little matter of
the belief that Hitler was a man who solved problems, and just got things done.
A man who brought order to chaos, who replaced shame & anger with pride. Just
this much is reason enough. But wait, there’s more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All
that above is just the state-of-play today. But what of yesterday? How does our
past history affect how we perceive Hitler today? </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zRvzAI_y9D_CagCzCbYDlqsBrmVwDU-Z8WOTCicjdHbuguEk66frHanadP43TMHMqsZ6LfRkONmcBgIIHOvfxxuf_h1GAoUceXeO0Q4467VLLHcn3GOoBGmYFETLrRfn401c/s1600/Netaji+Subhas+Chandra+Bose+and+Adolf+Hitler+-++Germany+29+May+1942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zRvzAI_y9D_CagCzCbYDlqsBrmVwDU-Z8WOTCicjdHbuguEk66frHanadP43TMHMqsZ6LfRkONmcBgIIHOvfxxuf_h1GAoUceXeO0Q4467VLLHcn3GOoBGmYFETLrRfn401c/s1600/Netaji+Subhas+Chandra+Bose+and+Adolf+Hitler+-++Germany+29+May+1942.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Again, our history once again
reinforces the fact that Hitler was a good man. It’s a fact that today’s youth hero
worships Bhagat Singh and Subhas Chandra Bose more than MK Gandhi. And remember,
it was Hitler to whom Netaji turned to in the fight for Indian Independence.
That makes Hitler India’s friend, even if it is – as it was – because he was
the ‘enemy’s enemy’. So if Netaji admired Hitler, he can’t be all that bad. Many
people still haven’t forgiven Gandhi for siding with the oppressor, Britain
during the wars. For people who’ve read Indian history or rather know of all
the theories and little trickles that went into making the larger whole, there
is a strong and persistent view that had Hitler not weakened the <span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">British Empire through WW2, the British would have never voluntarily left India. This view finds its logical end in posts and books that proclaim that Hitler, not Gandhi, should be given credit for the independence of India. As an aside, when you have the time, also look up Savitri Devi, popularly known as Hitler’s priestess and how Hitler was for a while considered an avatar of Vishnu.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back
to the present and thousands of copies of Mein Kampf get sold every month at
bookstores across the country. At last count there were at least a dozen
editions that I know of, and there’s a new one every few months. It’s still a
best seller in India. How would you account for this? The book’s literary
merit? No. It is a rambling book, and a difficult read. I don’t think all those
thousands of people who bought the book have ever finished the book. They only
bought it not so much because they wanted to know more about Hitler but more as
a token of their love for the man. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
could go on. About the restaurants that bear Hitler’s name. About how the whole
‘Hitler was racist’ doesn’t cut ice in private here, in India where we are as
rascist as they come. About the movie(s) on Hitler. But as with the rest of the
post, I will keep it brief and just enough to give you an idea of why I think
that if someone is compared to Hitler, it may work in his favour. Why Adolf
Hitler for all that he may be to the western world isn’t in India (necessarily)
an evil man – but a hero, a role model, political correctness notwithstanding. I
hope I’ve made enough sense to give you some food for thought.</span></span></div>
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Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-35764393318679558342014-03-12T12:25:00.000+05:302014-03-13T10:43:14.937+05:30Why are military hotels called ‘Military Hotels’?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxgbh5E2ehqF3qTTz7PH2zq0jWAb5MahbqAhZXBrJp-UcCC3rPNdkPedWddUtt-YEFDqDYXoWPkTCVNRIkkR9DUdiUwgAFfncFLn5CfBuP-949H8rHEjZhxouTfRSKCdG_XZg/s1600/miltry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxgbh5E2ehqF3qTTz7PH2zq0jWAb5MahbqAhZXBrJp-UcCC3rPNdkPedWddUtt-YEFDqDYXoWPkTCVNRIkkR9DUdiUwgAFfncFLn5CfBuP-949H8rHEjZhxouTfRSKCdG_XZg/s1600/miltry.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />Military Hotel. You know, the places where you get all the Ragi Mudde and Chops. The donne biryanis and spare parts. Basically and almost exclusively non veg fare is what defines a Military Hotel, or Miltry Hotel as people call them. Actually the full and proper nomenclature is ‘Hindu Military Hotel’. But what’s with the military connection? I’ve had a lot of people ask me that, and am putting it down here so next time I can just mail a link to this post instead of subjecting them to my voice and wild gesticulations. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now all this here below is what I’ve learned from my uncle and corroborated by relatives and a few people of the previous generation. That’s the only citation you’ll ever get if you ask. If you have heard of an alternative explanation or anything to add on, I would love to hear it. Anyways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One logical explanation I’ve seen do the rounds is that they’re called Military Hotels because they’re run by ex-servicemen. Logical, plausible, but not quite right. The actual reason, as I’ve been told, is that back in the ye olde days, and I’m talking about the early post-independence years and up to the early 60s, the only non-vegetarian hotels and messes existing had cooks who were non-Hindu, mostly Muslim. So Hindus who were from non-vegetarian households would eat at home. But when it came to eating out, it was more or less a non-option for reasons stated above. This was a problem compounded for Hindus who were supposedly (or rather born) vegetarian but had acquired a taste for non-veg, because without the option of eating out they had to make do only with the occasional invitation to a friend’s house or say, a stray beegra oota. Remember also, these were times when towns were smaller than they are now and everyone more or less knew everybody else and his family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Enter the military hotels to fill this gap for both kinds of people. Any hotel that called itself a Hindu Military Hotel (to use the complete & original terminology; though the word ‘Hindu’ has since been become redundant due to association of one with the other and due to changing times) was clearly suggesting, nay announcing three things:<br />• That it is a non-vegetarian hotel<br />• That the cooks are Hindus, and…<br />• No beef.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But still, why ‘Military’? Apparently the general perception amongst the people at that time was that everyone in the forces, the military HAD to eat non-veg irrespective of who he was or what his background and choice of food was. So ostensibly many of these places popped up to cater to the non-vegetarian food needs of soldiers on leave and ex-servicemen who had to have their meat but who couldn’t cook at home, or eat at hotels with non-Hindu cooks. Yep. It’s quite as simple as that. But the reasons are not so simple, but sort of make sense once you keep in mind the social mores of the time that food joints started calling themselves ‘Military Hotels’. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So there you go. Enough food for thought I guess, for now. <em>Bon appetite</em>!!</span></div>
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Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-30271443946152231422014-02-14T14:14:00.002+05:302014-02-14T14:14:42.544+05:30Love, love everywhere, but not a Lover to love - The Auto Raja special<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>A collection of some of the finest love advice and aphorisms from
Bangalore’s very own Love Gurus.</strong></span></div>
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[Once] Love is found, Lover [also] will you not get [?]</div>
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nail polish thara thilkondire<br />
udugaru love andre<br />
pranakintha echgi thilkonthare<br />
=<br />
(If) girls think of love as nail polish *wah wah*<br />
boys value love more than life itself<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzJIfi1lL-JolHVdeyD6wMeTl8hBJK3kYCYKUaZ5UChqGhARxgSeW8ks994C-2db51tsNDjYjZ8TURAkln_36zMayxUGVBv0d8MxkCLEQQZpZSqzWyx_gDaml3y9RqamXQRm0/s1600/461283_10150625987680793_2120202032_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzJIfi1lL-JolHVdeyD6wMeTl8hBJK3kYCYKUaZ5UChqGhARxgSeW8ks994C-2db51tsNDjYjZ8TURAkln_36zMayxUGVBv0d8MxkCLEQQZpZSqzWyx_gDaml3y9RqamXQRm0/s1600/461283_10150625987680793_2120202032_o.jpg" height="271" width="400" /></a>Shi So Beutiful</div>
But<br />
I Don’t Like It<br />
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The charms of modern girls’ luck-u…<br />
…can change a boy’s destiny (and come unstuck-u)</div>
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from mother….LIFE<br />
from lover….DEATH</div>
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Waste it [a rose] not on the hair of a girl who knows not the value of love,<br />
Use it instead to adorn the tomb of the boy who gave their life for love…..<br />
….GULABI !!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-uSWV8wkLBDPuHRGEu_yjApPnxOoZmxJkYUhKYGj4Z6ML23ADDwy7ryDxSYgDtvGC9EnnjwxGC988q9stuiLacW2jj5cLZhyphenhyphen-UUb8hPFp-Iyl2FiJfdMxS_b_cVtgv9-kKfqi/s1600/1404896_10151731271925793_1618275188_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-uSWV8wkLBDPuHRGEu_yjApPnxOoZmxJkYUhKYGj4Z6ML23ADDwy7ryDxSYgDtvGC9EnnjwxGC988q9stuiLacW2jj5cLZhyphenhyphen-UUb8hPFp-Iyl2FiJfdMxS_b_cVtgv9-kKfqi/s1600/1404896_10151731271925793_1618275188_o.jpg" height="223" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-btgVxsy5nlIu5Kzu2dNRGl-Hl2pFYYiGyE6yhe9S78gZcXZQmwwLOrpplf10YGOWQf4P-yDRD1toUovD2TB5LOLUdSi1jrSB0YJoBm-hzLEVDWA-hk1pVOw73b5Lc7M7yBK/s1600/904086_10151642466840793_409128687_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-btgVxsy5nlIu5Kzu2dNRGl-Hl2pFYYiGyE6yhe9S78gZcXZQmwwLOrpplf10YGOWQf4P-yDRD1toUovD2TB5LOLUdSi1jrSB0YJoBm-hzLEVDWA-hk1pVOw73b5Lc7M7yBK/s1600/904086_10151642466840793_409128687_o.jpg" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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if you don’t get what you love; love what you get’<br />
but a true, more correct literal translation in English would be:<br />
Rather than being a slave to the one you choose,<br />
Be the king and rule over the heart that chose you</div>
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To never see you again, my heart into stone I turned,<br />
Now that the stone hath become a rock in the end <br />
From which I could sculpt your beauteous visage I see within,<br />
How can forget you oh my beloved, my friend?! </div>
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and finally a (dis)honourable mention....</div>
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Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-81979640641782877702013-12-09T17:25:00.000+05:302013-12-09T17:25:21.274+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For
a small-town boy with no exposure to western philosophy, he opened the doors to
this new animal called existentialism. My later love for Kierkegaard, Nietzsche,
Schopenhauer and all the various philosophies had their beginning with that one
book – The Outsider. And thus began a path of discovery and self-discovery.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My continuing
love for the occult, the esoteric arts and magik, began all those years ago,
when as a impressionable young man, I discovered Aleister Crowley, Blavatsky, Gurdjieff
and Jung, all and more which were contained in that one book – The Occult. Thus
began a lasting fascination and exploration of all these arcane subjects.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />Pseudohistory, alternate history and lost civilisation,
whole new world, or rather completely lost worlds were laid open by that one
book – From Atlantis to the Sphinx. All the tomes and books I have read and own
today on the subject are a direct result of the spark provided by that one
book.
And all written by that one man, the ‘Angry Young Men’ – Colin Wilson. <br />
<br />I couldn’t even begin to list out the other books of his which provided further
direction to my reading habits and to subjects I could delve into deeper. From
sex crimes and criminal histories to de Sade and sci-fi, horror and alternate realities.
Yes, I have read much better books on each of these topics, but for a newbie
these provided interesting enough to know further. And for that, Colin Wilson,
thank you. And…<br />
…to the only writer who has a shelf all his own in my library, R.I.P.<br /></div>
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Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-54758120196029015412012-11-23T12:01:00.000+05:302012-11-23T12:01:40.650+05:30A wonderful 'magical' read...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The last time I read a non-china mieville book that won as many awards as Jo Walton’s Among Others was Paolo Bacigalupi’s Wind-up Girl which ended its course winning more awards than Among Others’ current tally. That’s probably as much as you can speak about the two in the same breath – as Among Others was (imho) as much a pleasure to read as Wind-up Girl was underwhelming. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYITuQEFfOjCV083CsPUWhqu6AQ9fDMiqDTowcUS4VasbzyhhxwxAeGwhfQqENHLzsmjiG5hAQzYxstlUgHWbiP-Y2oHVpd5PIm2_6lVvkFnm8nhGtefwIr2UjDTplbgbmqQX/s1600/among+others.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYITuQEFfOjCV083CsPUWhqu6AQ9fDMiqDTowcUS4VasbzyhhxwxAeGwhfQqENHLzsmjiG5hAQzYxstlUgHWbiP-Y2oHVpd5PIm2_6lVvkFnm8nhGtefwIr2UjDTplbgbmqQX/s320/among+others.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<br />And not just because Am</div>
</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">ong Others is an ode to classic SF (and fandom) and the love of books, as it a fabulous bildungsroman (I am a sucker for those). The first person epistolary narrative style just adds to the charm of this book. Now, is this narrator – a 16 year old girl who's just lost her twin, sees fairies, does magic, creates a karass all her own, and is running away from her evil (witch) mother – an unreliable narrator or not? Could go both ways depending on who is reading. When I first heard about the book it was posited as an anti-thesis to Harry Potter because the protagonist was a girl who knew magic and went to a regular, non-magic boarding school. But Among Others turned out to be so much more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Magic is what you make of it; the closest the ‘magic’ in this book comes to is perhaps the ‘magic’ in Bridge to Terabithia. So in that sense, it is only ‘science fiction’ if you want it to be, and ‘fantasy’ if you say so.</span></div>
Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-24194964382479073032012-07-31T15:29:00.000+05:302012-07-31T15:52:08.550+05:30Killing two birds with one book<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Remember the first Ice Age movie? It was an animated movie, so naturally it was billed as ‘entertaining fare for children’. And enjoy they did, going by my nephews and nieces or children of friends. But you know who enjoyed the film more? The people who used to be children till a decade or more ago, and some who are children still, albeit with beards, moustaches, wives and credit card debts. So while Ice Age was great fun for the child in us – and I don’t mean this in the sense of being pregnant – it was great pun for the adults that we supposedly are. Adults in terms of having read enough, gone through life, watched enough movies than the average bear cub. The puns (taekwon-dodo!) , the contextual insinuations, the absurdness of dodos preparing for the ice age with just three melons (melons, as in the fruit, you dutty bugger). See what I mean. It takes an adult to get that joke. You can’t expect a 10-14 year old to get all of that. But that’s not to say they didn’t enjoy Ice Age. That’s where we ‘adults’ have an advantage – we used to be children once.</div>
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The same is the case with certain books. Conveniently billed ‘Young Adult’ fiction. But like not all books – in my highly subjective opinion - can be truly enjoyed by adults as well (and this coming from me, who still reads Three Investigators still). So assuming you’re looking for a fun read that takes you back to the ‘good fun’ days of adventurous adolescence, but one that also offers the ‘adult’ in you a second layer of fun and added reading pleasure (and if you wish, one that you can deconstruct, look at it from a societal perspective, etc. etc.), here’s a short random list from theBekku, of ‘young adult' books.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidW5rgrJL3bv2LC2SvWty5g-kgqJSF3Cff8YdQ9a17Xj9tk-LQTSnSqu_LsXlJDSOPL2r8Q0dAovzgbO4brnUjPjk_iS4kLMlPVy62Vys88pm2aFUDhbE4-O1BVeyyHri5sFr/s1600/ya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eda="true" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidW5rgrJL3bv2LC2SvWty5g-kgqJSF3Cff8YdQ9a17Xj9tk-LQTSnSqu_LsXlJDSOPL2r8Q0dAovzgbO4brnUjPjk_iS4kLMlPVy62Vys88pm2aFUDhbE4-O1BVeyyHri5sFr/s640/ya.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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All of these books fall under the same category as say, The Hobbit, which was primarily for children but can be enjoyed by adults (unlike LOTR which was the opposite). And yes, Ice Age. This list is by no means exhaustive, by any measure. These are just the book’s I like enough personally to recommend. If there are any I’ve missed, or you think I should read, do a good turn and let me know in the comments section. And because fantasy, adventure, a sense of newness, discovery and wonder is according to me one of the chief emotions of young adult-hood, this list tilts more towards fantasy and plausible alternative worlds and situations rather than books like say, Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. </div>
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Now, you’re either the kind of person who will take my word for it (for reasons known best to you) or the kind who will still Google the title/author and look it up on wikipedia/ amazon/ good reads. Thusly, this list is not accompanied by any descriptions or gushing praise, all I can say is that if you’re a reader you won’t regret the time you spend within these books. Get ready for subterranean cities, other worlds and other mothers, competitions, rumbling mobile metropolises, magic and fun. </div>
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<strong>China Mieville</strong> – Un Lun Dun</div>
<strong>Ursula LeGuin</strong> – The Earthsea quartet (• A Wizard Of Earthsea • The Tombs of Atuan • The Farthest Shore • Tehanu)<br />
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<strong>Philip Pullman</strong> – His Dark Materials trilogy (• The Golden Compass • The Subtle Knife • The Amber Spyglass)</div>
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<strong>Neil Gaiman</strong> – Coraline</div>
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<strong>Neil Gaiman</strong> – The Graveyard Book</div>
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<strong>Philip Reeve</strong> – The Mortal Engines quartet (• Mortal Engines • Predator's Gold • Infernal Devices • A Darkling Plain</div>
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<strong>Jeanne DuPrau</strong> – Book of Ember quartet (• City of Ember • The People of Sparks • The Prophet of Yonwood • The Diamond of Darkhold)</div>
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<strong>Suzanne Collins</strong> – The Hunger Games trilogy (• The Hunger Games • Catching Fire • Mockingjay)</div>
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<strong>Norton Juster</strong> – The Phantom Tollbooth</div>
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There you go. Will add more in a while or a bit, whichever is earlier.</div>
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And here’s how you kill two birds with one book.</div>
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Gift your son/daughter/nephew/niece any of the above (or all), and introduce them to new worlds of wonder and come across as a great father/father/uncle/aunt and when the brats are done with it, quietly borrow and read it. Or the other way ‘round. Also recommended for adults who want to buy it solely for themselves, for the children they are ;)</div>
</div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-49088666780586261382012-07-27T11:40:00.000+05:302012-07-27T11:51:04.390+05:30A reply – and a thank you note – of sorts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQ2ntwKGWgxLnlyt_VJl2kgnaAvHWjX9m18tfDO-dSvA4XjeGOmkvELW9yGcvATFoJD2rvgxrvcCm9qSQdXhTVC3L4t44xuz-ap1xuL03rtgQ4WScs0XClktTB2n6PaQ1W6Qe/s1600/Dark-Knight-Trilogy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQ2ntwKGWgxLnlyt_VJl2kgnaAvHWjX9m18tfDO-dSvA4XjeGOmkvELW9yGcvATFoJD2rvgxrvcCm9qSQdXhTVC3L4t44xuz-ap1xuL03rtgQ4WScs0XClktTB2n6PaQ1W6Qe/s320/Dark-Knight-Trilogy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Many many moons ago, a die-hard motor-head and F1 encyclopedia who happens to be a friend of mine (yeah Ajit, you only man, and thanks for the quote) mailed across a great quote that I’ve never quite forgotten. Looking it up took me to an olde episode of BBC’s Top Gear, in which Jeremy Clarkson test drove – I don’t quite remember, think it was – an Aston Martin. But the point is this. After a fabulous drive and gushing praise, he mentioned a couple of small minor details that people said could be improved upon, and to such people who complain because they want to, Clarkson said, in a way only Clarkson can, “Complaining about this car is like getting into bed with a supermodel and complaining she has slightly irregular pubes.”<br />
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How’s that for a reply to the people who would go nitpicking for the sake of it, about The Dark Knight Rises, things like ‘why are the cars marked GPD when it should be GCPD as was established in a scene in the previous movie?’ I could’ve at least given marks for this kind of an observation if the city in question was say, Kuala Lumpur and they’d marked the cars KPD, not KLPD.<br />
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Then, on to certain plot points in the movie which a friend of mine who goes by the handle Finnegan’s Wake fabulously called the ‘Manmohan Desai elements’. Things like ‘how Batman could prance around after being lame for almost 40 minutes of the movie?' (errr...perhaps that metal frame thingy on his leg?) and ‘how could a quack fix wayne when he had disfigured Bane while trying to treat him’ (no he didn't. the guy who fixed him was someone else. the quack who disfigured bane was the guy who suddenly starts speaking propah English after mumbling around in some strange language). Oh wait, there’s another Manmohan Desai element (I love that term!).<br />
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If that explanation wouldn’t suffice those for whom there is no pleasing, then I offer you the recourse of what Coleridge termed ‘suspension of disbelief’. And the burden is on the viewer, not the creator. If you can suspend your disbelief enough to believe that is perfectly plausible for a grown man, who is also a billionaire by the way, to run around in a suit wearing eye shadow with out of the world gadgetry (and in the comics world, friends with an alien boy scout who flies around wearing his red undies outside his blue tights), then why is it so impossible for you to believe that such things too can happen. ‘Clean Slate’ can fit into a thumb drive. Why let it come in the way of ‘the larger enjoyment’ of the film? Remember it’s a movie, not a balance sheet. <br />
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If you want everything to be perfectly explained and everything slotted just right, with no facts out of place, then I suggest you go check out the CERN ppt on the Higgs Boson after the big find. Plus, it’s in Comic Sans.<br />
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The other big complaint is the supposed lack of humour. While I can counter that by saying there was just enough humour to get by, like the rooftop sequence where Catwoman does a Batman on Batman. Remember Batman is supposed to be this fatalist, brooding dude. And the whole tone of the movie is dark and somber. It’s TDKR, what were you expecting, an Adam Sandler movie with Marx Brothers dialogues? And less humour or no humour compared to what? Perhaps putting nipples on the batsuit would’ve helped, yes?<br />
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That said, do I have no complaints against the movie? I do. I wish Nolan had given more screen time to Catwoman. In tights. Not Selina Kyle. Catwoman. But then, Nolan’s only human. Don’t expect him to get everything perfect. Did I hear someone say fan service? Yep. So is asking for Bane to be given more screen time too and a fitting ‘death’. But remember what Clarkson said about sleeping with the supermodel?<br />
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Now that all that is taken care of. Let’s move on to the Trilogy proper. Because many tend to forget that TDKR is but the final part of a Trilogy. As Satyajit Chetri aka <a href="http://www.beatzo.net/blog/2012/07/a-reaction-of-sorts" target="_blank">Beatzo has nailed it</a>, “For the first time in the history of this 73-year old character, we have a complete story, with beginning, middle and end.” If its comics and beatzo speaks, question it not. And that statement above – which I completely agree with – is more objective than you would care to admit.<br />
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Oh wait. Speaking of comics, there’s enough people out there who would revel in showing off their Bat-knowledge – and thusly seem cooler somehow – by suggesting things like ‘they should’ve let Talia live because she’s pregnant with Damian!’. Damian who? Aw c’mon dude. You don’t know? (gets into let-me-out-fanboy-you mode with fake humility mask) In the comics, Bruce Wayne and Talia al’ Ghul have a kid called Damian Wayne who then becomes the 5th Robin. What…5th Robin? Ya man…blah blah Jason Todd blah blah Drake blah blah Stephanie Brown blah blah Red Hood blah blah. And so on. Dude, stop it. <br />
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Nolan’s mined the best parts from the comics, most notably the tone and motivations and characters and delivered a nice self-contained trilogy. Everything that needs to be there is there. It’s not comics. It’s Nolan-verse. And it’s just as valid as Timm-verse or DC-continuity. If there’s no venom pumping into Bane’s veins, it just isn’t. And if some white haired dude in some Pit replaces Lady Shiva, so it shall be in Nolan-verse. Every medium has its own pace, it’s own possibilities and limitations. Be thankful for what you got, and the awesomeness that was the experience across the Trilogy and quit comparing it to the comics, and to Arkham Asylum the game, and……how in TDKR Catwoman should’ve gotten more screen time in tights (oh wait, that’s me.) So if you want to want a nice conversation about possibilities and batman comics, that’s cool, but if you’re just out to prove how many Batman-related Wikipedia pages you’ve mugged up and throw trivia around without a context, you can please stuff it down Jean Paul’s valley.<br />
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So there you have it. TDKR, a fitting finale to a fabulous trilogy. A trilogy which has set the standard for comic book adaptations. A trilogy that humanised the ‘superhero’. A trilogy that transcended the comic-book-movie genre. A trilogy that gave us Heath Leger’s Joker, a killer bat mobile, Hans Zimmer’s scores, Anne Hathway in leather, a great supporting cast, great dialogues, great action, Anne Hathway in leather, and above all a nice cohesive and a sooper movie experience, three times over, not counting the umpteen repeat viewings. I know I am not even scratching the surface about all the things that were superfantabulous about the Trilogy, like the new bat-logo, but then, I’m sure you know them already and I’d have to take a day off to type out the whole list. <br />
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So in closing.<br />
Thank you Christopher Nolan.</div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-22606760732939546522012-04-04T12:48:00.000+05:302012-04-04T12:48:15.371+05:30The Bekku picks 10 off the bekku<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">For no particular reason, here are 10 posts out of 247. handpicked picked with careful randomness. In no particular order….<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2007/01/yeh-pink-floyd-saala-hai-kaun.html" target="_blank">Yeh Pink Floyd saala hai kaun?</a><br />
In which The Bekku shines some light on Pink Floyd. You might like reading about him.<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2010/01/about-time.html" target="_blank">About Time</a><br />
A story shorter than a short story. The Bekku’s first attempt at writing one about his favourite theme.<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2010/06/curious-case-of-missing-indian-jasoos.html" target="_blank">The Curious Case of the Missing Indian Jasoos</a><br />
Where is an Indian detective when you need one? <br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2010/01/i-have-never-begun-novel-with-more.html" target="_blank">It ws a dark and stormy night....</a> <br />
The most ‘literate’ post or rather experiment on the bekku. Probably because none of the words were mine. <br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2009/02/we-all-need-love-day.html" target="_blank">We all need a Love Day</a><br />
The secret history of Feb 14th revealed!<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2007/07/patriotism-vs-patriotism.html" target="_blank">patriotism vs. Patriotism</a><br />
Spot the difference.<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2011/11/everything-you-wanted-to-know-about.html" target="_blank">Everything you wanted to know about Kolaveri but didn’t know who to ask!</a> <br />
The post is exactly what the title says. Has aged better than the song though.<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2006/05/revenge-of-natives.html" target="_blank">The Revenge of the Natives</a> <br />
In which a way is indicated as to how you can master ye queen’s English at the cost of comprehension.<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2006/01/fork-off-dos-and-donts-when-eating.html" target="_blank">Fork off!! – DOs and DON’Ts when eating from a banana leaf</a> <br />
As a comment put it, this just proved The Bekku does not suffer from Ananany, which is the inability to stop spelling banana.<br />
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<a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.in/2009/07/sexy-post.html" target="_blank">A sexy post</a><br />
In which fellatio is referred to.</div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-62119619183395716982012-03-06T16:00:00.000+05:302012-03-06T16:00:15.347+05:30Then as of now<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Winter had set in. I had already been slumming it out, been on the road for almost a month. Me, myself and a backpack. From delhi to haridwar, kedar to badri, hemkund sahib and everything on the way including Gorakhpur, the armpit of India. Gurudwara, telephone booth, 50-rupee rooms, railway platform, sleeping bag, when night came, anything was shelter enough. Trains, innumerable buses, shared taxis and a truck ride later found me walking across the border into Nepal en route to Tibet. It would still be another 20 days before I would eventually head back home. For now though, the bus that would take me to Kathmandu beckoned. As the bus left Sanauli, I realised I was the only non-Nepali in a crowded bus. And would be for the next 8-odd hours as the shuddery old bus wound its way through the picturesque mountainous roads. For the first time in all those days, I felt a sense of alone-ness. Not lonely, but alone. Perhaps it was this song that did. The driver played it a couple of hours into the journey. At that time I did not know what the words meant. I still don’t. No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. To me, at that point it captured that ineffable sense of ‘being away’. Of wanting to be with someone, but not just anyone. A sense of glorious desolation. Alone, but not lonely. Today, three years on…when I listen to this song, which I am as I write this, I am instantly transported back to those days, those roads, that bus filled with smiling happy people. I know this journey is but one of many that I need to make to get to wherever my heart takes me. I still have places to go, places to see. As I did then.</span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="165" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5FpoKbwGkl4?rel=0" width="200"></iframe></div></div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-44970542215543513902011-11-24T14:57:00.000+05:302011-11-24T14:57:33.812+05:30Everything you wanted to know about Kolaveri but didn’t know who to ask!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><strong>First tell me what is this ‘Kolaveri’ means?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">The word is derived from the Tamizh words ‘Kolai’ meaning killing/ murder and supposedly ‘Veri’ <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgeR3tv8sviJfpCVo0i8V5VuLcvQtBFX7jrA8MF08w-Y39mPbrWnsVEJyPTM4HjkBc1YTfVcdg_r7kc5ElHsq5Y3sssq9wOPJnGGBzIuPXOcYWmHakf1iscLSqb45X3XRN62O/s1600/dhanush-s-kolaveri-di-song-a-craze-online-09e6487e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgeR3tv8sviJfpCVo0i8V5VuLcvQtBFX7jrA8MF08w-Y39mPbrWnsVEJyPTM4HjkBc1YTfVcdg_r7kc5ElHsq5Y3sssq9wOPJnGGBzIuPXOcYWmHakf1iscLSqb45X3XRN62O/s320/dhanush-s-kolaveri-di-song-a-craze-online-09e6487e.jpg" width="320" /></a>meaning ‘rage’. So Kolaveri literally means ‘killing rage’ or ‘murderous fury’. Keep in mind that is a soup song (see next question) sung by a soup boy (again, see next question) so he is asking the girl who has rejected him why she is treating him like this. Soup boys will get it. But it’s usage can go beyond it. Last heard Soniaji was asking Mamata Bannerjee “Why this Kolaveri Didi?”. Also overheard an hour into Rockstar ‘Why this Kolaveri?’. Will soon supplant and replace ‘Emosional Atyaachaar’.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><strong>What’s ‘Soup’ got to do with a girl? What is a Soup Song? Who is a Soup Boy?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">If you ask me, soup is short for ‘Soup-er’ – as in soup-er figure mama – but unfortunately that’s just my theory-u. According to Dhanush, the lyric writist and singer of this song-u, a Soup Boy’ is a love failure boy and a ‘Soup Song’ is a love failure song. Anu Malik’s “Why did you break my heart? Why did I fall in love?” is a soup song. Devdas is a Soup Boy. Singing ‘One by two-u veg manchow soup da’ to the waiter in tune is NOT a soup song.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Is ‘bouv-u’ supposed to the sound of a dog barking spelt bad wrongly?</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This misconception stems from the classic Sher: Tere pyaar me mujhe kutta bana diya, Tere pyaar me mujhe kutta bana diya….yakeen nahin aata? Bow Bow!’ This is also a classic example of a Soup Sher. The theory fits in as much as this is a Soup Sher and the guy is singing to a girl in desperation because in a twist she said ‘yes’ to him and truned him into a dog (bandh gaya patta, ban gaya kutta). But the truth is that ‘bouv’ supposedly is slang for ‘snubbed’ ‘stood up’ etc. etc. Also nicely rhymes with cow-u.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Can you translate the ‘song’ into English please?</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;">No. Because the whole song-u is in yinglish wonly mama. Did you not hear Dhanush say ‘Only english huh’. The few Tamizh words in the song have been addressed in the questions above. Also because any attempt at translation would lose out on the feelings of the song mama.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Why do you insist on calling me uncle? I don’t have a nephew or niece yet and neither am I that old!</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;">No offense mama, but mama here does not mean ‘uncle’ it is but an affectionate term for ‘friend’ as you can see in the video itself where Dhanush call Anirudh, the music director ‘mama’, this does not mean Anirudh is Dhanush’s uncle. Anirudh’s uncle is (I have heard) Rajini saar.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>WTF is Shruti Hasan doing in the video with the headphones on and all that?</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Holy cow-u. What kind of a question is that? It’s Shruti Hasan! She can be anywhere she wants to. She looks equal parts cute, equal parts hot in the video so don’t look a gift horse in the mouth-u.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Who is the other woman?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">Depends on which man you are talking about. In HDK’s case, it is the actress Radhika. Oh wait, you mean who is the other lady in the video? That is Aishwarya, director of the film in which this song features, Dhanush’s wife and the daughter of Rajini saar. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><strong>Is there a political angle to this song?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">Perhaps, but only if you insist on saying – in Kannada, in Chennai – ‘Kolaveri nimmadu, Kaveri nammadu’. (HT to Lady J who misread Kolaveri as Kaveri thus providing ample fodder for politics) </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><strong>Can you deconstruct this song? Is there a neo-classical post-modern interpretation to this song?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">Yes. Get me drunk first.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><strong>Is there a cure for this song? I cannot stop watching the video again and again and again? I cannot stop listening to the song-u? I have lost count-u? What iz the cure-u?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">You are probably watching the video to drool at Shruti Hasan, that’s not an affliction, you’re lucky, so don’t worry there is nothing wrong with you. As to listening, yes, there is a cure. But the cure is worse than the disease it is called ‘Silila yeh silsila’ (x3 ) followed by a healthy dose of Rebecca Black’s Friday. So stick to humming Kolaveri, it is a lot more fun. May the force be with you.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><strong>Any answer to any question that I might have missed?</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, you forgot question. And the answer to that question is ‘Yes, Rajinikanth knows the answer to ‘Why this Kolavri di?’</div></div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-53284786253873387602011-09-28T13:33:00.001+05:302011-09-28T13:35:18.598+05:30Laal Khopdi strikes again!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">It all started with a conversation on the office balcony. 2 lasses, a laddy and me (yep, Mallika, Pooja and Khanna, I am referring to you - didn't think you guys would the spark behind such horror did ya?). Next thing you know we are talking about Shaitaani Tantrik, Khooni Dracula, Chudail No.1 and other such z-grade horror flicks, nay true blue Indian exploitation classics from such great luminaries as Kanti Shah, Purushottam, Harinam Singh et al (many thanks to the one and wonly Bhagat Productions for some awesome movies). A chai later I remembered that there have been some slasher movies that have been cut up (no pun intended) into music videos for firang metal songs. Are these Indian classics any less? Don’t they deserve a video of their own? Of course they do. And it has to be an Indian band, an Indian song. That will do do justice to Indian horror flicks being sliced and diced (pun intended).</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">Cut to Coffee House. Enter fellow metal fan and walking music encyclopedia Gautham Khandigey also known as GK also known as Soul Reefer. A quick brief later and my mission stated, Dying Embrace’s Grotesque entity was inboxed with due alacrity. 2 sleepless nights, many coffees and watching many old favourites later, emerged this:</div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OttXvFBjSUY?rel=0&hd=1" width="853"></iframe></div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-52782149848435832272011-09-13T11:57:00.000+05:302011-09-13T11:57:13.326+05:30Word<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some authors fill a novel with futuristic scenery and jargon and then strenuously, even stertorously, deny that it's science fiction. No, no, they don't write that nasty stuff, never touch it. They write <em>literature</em>. Though curiously familiar with the tropes and conventions of the despised genre, they so blithely ignore the meaning of terms, they reinvent the wheel with such cries of self-admiration, that their endeavours seem a doomed effort to prove that one can write a novel without learning how.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">– Ursula K Le Guin in her <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/may/08/embassytown-china-mieville-review" target="_blank">review of China Miéville's Embassytown</a></div></div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-62437869208577074772010-06-15T18:48:00.000+05:302010-06-15T18:48:18.336+05:30Cannibal RomanceOverheard: the <a href="http://schrodingersbekku.blogspot.com/search/label/Romantic%20Lady%20Killer%20Man" target="_blank"><span id="goog_1685168565"></span>Romantic Lady Killer Man<span id="goog_1685168566"></span></a> singing this<br />
<br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vjfI3uSN8DQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vjfI3uSN8DQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<em>My Lady d'Arbanville, why do you sleep so still?</em><br />
<em>I'll wake you tomorrow</em><br />
<em>And you will be my fill, yes, you will be my fill.....</em>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-86893758036215059832010-06-02T19:18:00.000+05:302010-06-02T19:18:25.431+05:30The Curious Case of the Missing Indian Jasoos<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">Amidst yesterday’s hauls which included yet another Dr. Gideon Fell mystery by John Dickson Carr was this: The House of Fear – containing 2 stories of the Imran series of detective fiction by Ibn-e-Safi. Translated from the Urdu of course. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94QQsbAfUFK8hTAOcTFDma6V6czfCF7RgZWkSresfv2gVCtUBGYAsOuKMtywBqJK21zhoTKDrVZjy2Gm8TUsBn59vhdMsn1EcbvZIbYcUHKsEqlk0iEXNi0_9GsS-a5PtvWm4/s1600/house-of-fear_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94QQsbAfUFK8hTAOcTFDma6V6czfCF7RgZWkSresfv2gVCtUBGYAsOuKMtywBqJK21zhoTKDrVZjy2Gm8TUsBn59vhdMsn1EcbvZIbYcUHKsEqlk0iEXNi0_9GsS-a5PtvWm4/s400/house-of-fear_cover.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">With a quote by Agatha Christie thrown in for good measure, just in case you needed more reason to buy this book – apart from the fact that it is finally available at all. Tip of the hat to Jubin George for spotting this in the section where it was inadvertently kept – the heavy duty literature section which he usually haunts. Instead of the Crime/Mystery section where it belongs. But I digress (so what’s new?). The point of this post is not debate the literary merit of mystery and detective fiction, so let’s move on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">From the time I read my first Hardy Boys book in higher secondary – While the Clock Ticked, which also happened to be my first ‘English novel’ – I have been in love with the genre of detective fiction. The crime – a corpse or a robbery or both and more. A detective (a pair or with a sidekick) seeking out evidence. The red herrings that the author throws in. The linking together of various clues. The dénouement! Of course from here on it was but a natural progression to Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie. The discovery of Poe and finding Auguste Dupin. Reading about Simon Iff. The Dorothy Sayers books. No, for the purpose of this post, Dirk Gently is NOT a detective. But Asimov’s Black Widowers series is detective fiction, even though there are no crimes to speak of, but still problems solved. Current favourites being Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse, Andrea Cammileri’s Salvo Montalbano and the aforementioned Dr. Gideon Fell. So on and so forth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">From a larger perspective, you could separate out Crime/Hardboiled fiction – Chandler, Hammet, Spillane et al and police procedurals and lawyers – from pure detective fiction of the private investigator or problem solver/trouble shooter kind who follows clues not procedures or rules of his own making. And feature in more than a couple of stories. The Holmeses, the Poirots, the Miss Marples, the Peter Wimseys etc. But if you’ve noticed there are hardly any Indian detectives on this list (the title of the post was a dead giveaway right? Drat! I’ll never make it as a writer of detective fiction.) But wait. There are!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Flashback to Doordarshan in the late eighties and we had Rajat Kapoor playing Byomkesh Bakshi – not a detective but a satyanveshi, a truth seeker – and his Dr.Watson, Ajit entertain us with some amazing stories. Then Ray’s Feluda happened. Good fun. Yes, Gajarchand, I mean Detective Karamchand was also there, but since he was born on television not in a book, he doesn’t make the cut. So we have Saradindu Bandopadhyay’s Byomkesh Bakshi and Satyajit Ray’s Feluda. Homegrown Indian sleuths. Whose exploits are available in English. 2 volumes to each detective. And now hopefully House of Fear will see Ibn-e-Safi’s Imran being taken forward. That makes it three. Yes, there is Ibn-e-Safi’s other hero, Colonel Fareedi, but that’s more spy game than detective fun. So we’re still left with three. Ain’t there no more Indian detectives? Premendra Mitra’s Ghanada is again not so much detective fiction as it is tall stories and adventure stories. And all these were ages ago. Byomkesh in the early 20th. Feluda in the 60s & 70s. Imran in the 50s. Isn’t there any Indian sleuth in modern fiction???</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Inspector Ghote!!! Yes. But wait. No. Sorry. The author is British. And Manjiri Prabhu’s Sonia Samarth series is basically chik-lit in the guise of detective fiction. With astrology thrown in for the cool factor and the exotic ingredient when selling to an unsuspecting western(ised) reader. Is the problem then one of unavailability in English? Which would give the detective a mainstream audience? Byomkesh and Feluda were both written in Bengali remember, and Imran in Urdu. I think not. Even if one were not able to read the stories one would still be in the know right? That so-and-so detective exists. Syed Mustafa Siraj’s Colonel Niladri Sarkar for instance. Originally in Bengali, and to the best of my knowledge unavailable in English. But while I may not have read any of these stories, I know they are there ready to be translated should a publisher see the commercial value in that and welcomed by eager readers in India and elsewhere. Perhaps there are some gems of a sleuth hidden away in Oriya? Marathi perhaps? I don’t know. If you do. Please let me know. Would like that. Yes, admittedly there is a rich tradition of pulp literature – but the protagonists there tends to crime and sensation. Or perhaps I need to change my strict. But that still does not explain the missing detective in modern Indian fiction? True, Amitav Ghosh's Calcutta Chromosome can be fitted under this, but it's a one-shot. Can Indians not write mystery/detective fiction? That probably brings us to the question – if we love detective fiction, why should there be an Indian detective? Is there a need really? Of course there’s no need. But it is still a different thing to read about familiar places, familiar phrases, to see familiar names in a genre that we so like. So where is the homegrown Indian jasoos? Exhuming Dame Christie, re-animating her and asking her – since she claims to have ‘knowledge of detective fiction in the subcontinent’ – is not an option. She’s be horribly out of date. Or perhaps not.</div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-67936373973628178902010-06-02T13:31:00.000+05:302010-06-02T13:31:52.193+05:30We like. You like?<div style="text-align: justify;">In case this has been slipping under thine radar, this here blog is another to which the Bekku makes a contribution to (or rather tries to) Here it is and its still there: <a href="http://coverswelike.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Covers We Like</a></div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-10363481797190155782010-05-26T14:38:00.000+05:302010-05-26T14:38:54.704+05:30I am a lot of things! I am Everything! (almost)<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>…sadness drips and dries </strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong></strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>like paint on my mind’s wall</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>to a cacophony of chaotic cries</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Life, uninstall.</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There! That has makes me a Poet. Moving on…..</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have a camera. I take photos. That makes me a Photographer.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have given my voice to 4 radio spots. So I am a Voice Artist.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have used Windows Movie Maker to make a video. So what if it’s a slide show? That still makes me a Filmmaker.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have plasticine at home. So I am a clay modeler, ooops, Sculptor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have attended a few quizzes, now that is a straight ticket to Quizzer-hood.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I am a Blogger. But obviously. So what if its dead for all practical matters?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So where are we now? Lets recap.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Poet. Photographer. Voice Artist. Filmmaker. Sculptor. Quizzer. Blogger. I am turning out to be quite the thing since bread came sliced. But moving on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have written short stories. One is up on this blog, called Status Quo. Look for it if you wish. And some more. So that makes me a Story Writer. Now if I can get this and the few other I’ve written laid out in Garamond, get a few copies laser printed, bind it with some random image on the cover, I will be Author too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Yeah…oooh….lala aha yea….sadness drips and dries sssss</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>like paint on my mind’s wall……hey yeah</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Cacophony! of chaotic cries</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Life, uninstall. Uninstallllll yea yea yea yea</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;">(sung to what? A 2-chord progression. A Minor and E major. Simplest)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Look ma! I am a Songwriter too! I am a Guitarist too since I can actually play these 2 chords. And if Justin Beiber is a singer so am I. Anyways Singer-Songwriter is way cooler and kvlt than plain jane ‘singer’. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know a bit of ProTools and can splice things together in Audacity, does that make me a Sound Engineer?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know enough Photoshop to apply random filters and bring it together in CorelDraw or Illustrator. I have Shutterstock access so I can download and alter cool vectors to pass them off as mine. So in one shot that makes me an Art Director and Graphic Designer.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this calendar year I have read 39 books to date. Yep. This year I am keeping track. So I am an Avid Reader.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have been atop Kudremukh peak. Proves that I am a Trekker. I have spent a few or more hours walking around the Valley of Flowers. So I am a Hiker. Just need to get my BSA SLR into shape and trawl around. Note to self: Become a Cyclist soon. 2nd Note to self: Attend freebie try-before-you-buy workshop on Cocktail Making, Salsa, Kalaripayatt. Wouldn't you like to be called a Dancer? A certified Bartender?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have a Bajaj Pulsar. Not so often I take it out of the city which I guess makes me eligible for the Biker tag. What else? What else?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Poet. Photographer. Voice Artist. Filmmaker. Sculptor. Quizzer. Blogger. Author. Singer-Songwriter. Guitar player. Musician. Sound Engineer. Art Director. Graphic Designer. Avid Reader. Trekker. Hiker. Biker. I am Everything! Let me take a few minutes off now to download either a CK Prahlad book, and I will return as Management Consultant. Or perhaps I will look up Kotler on Wikipedia an become a Marketing Strategist and Brand Consultant. Ah, there’s so many things I can be. Be back soon.</div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-66802915614337554892010-04-29T14:28:00.001+05:302010-04-29T14:32:28.470+05:30Of vengeful virgins and corpses that wear pasties<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">Once in a while along comes along a book you pick up just for its cover art alone. Doesn’t often happen to me. I go for what’s in between the covers. And sometimes I don’t need to rifle through the pages. As a friend once told me, I seem to have the ability to judge a book by its covers. Yep. I do. And modesty is not one of my virtues. But coming to the point, it’s rarer still when you have an entire imprint each worth picking up for the cover art alone. And yes, Hard Case Crime happened to me some time ago. As a fan of hard boiled crime and pulp fiction, it was but natural that I check them out – books by Lawrence Block, Donald Westlake, Ed McBain, Max Allan Collins, what’s not to like. And one by, beleiev or not, Arthur Conan Doyle (The Valley of Fear). I do suggest you give them a look-in too, if you’re into hard-boiled crime and pulp or just like double-crossing, dangerous, skimpily clad hot women on your covers. But to be honest, some of the best books I’ve read in the Hard Case Crime series are the ones I picked up for their covers alone, and not going by the author or the plot or even the really neat by-lines that they have.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Case in point:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwzPeg9fYlAVmk9BJApBsGCWuBChwT24UtYOohhUb5Zj_cLn6M4yoFhK0TBcL6CoGydzeTiZMUwsh-jMUWEz6HiS-CiYLfXbLp9-6kauB07li8jNDEjXVQGrNH_tbyJW7iQqrv/s1600/corpse+pasties.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwzPeg9fYlAVmk9BJApBsGCWuBChwT24UtYOohhUb5Zj_cLn6M4yoFhK0TBcL6CoGydzeTiZMUwsh-jMUWEz6HiS-CiYLfXbLp9-6kauB07li8jNDEjXVQGrNH_tbyJW7iQqrv/s400/corpse+pasties.jpg" tt="true" width="247" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">What a cover! The title was a bonus. C’mon it mentions nipple coverings and a dead body. What could be more pulp than that? No clue about the author who is the self-appointed ‘Burlesque Mayor of New York’ Jonny Porkpie. I really had no expectation whatsoever from the book per se, but when a book starts with a short letter to the publisher from the author (reproduced below) you know it’s gonna be a good ride.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Dear Charles,</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Well, here it is, as requested, in all its obscene glory; a complete and mostly accurate of the events that led to the closing of a certain bar on Eleventh Street. I’ve played it as close to the truth as I can, but you know me; I might have throw in some slight exaggerations, the odd embellishment or two, and several completely fabricated erotic scenes. I just couldn’t resist.</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>In other words, it’s all true except for the stuff I lied about.</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Best regards,</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>Porkpie</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Know what I mean? And a good ride it was. And to labour a point, take a look at this:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2F-Vtd1IMQ3dWc11xcCBx7hWC2kMB_-Lj1xtOY9nD6kbZi41wcZSHacgXjeA56ke9wJIxyIq334JuomWAL-ql_erb7tPF6tGdzCL5GwFq-IHr4aaYryCNIGUqYGfzdvveeE1/s1600/vengeful+virgin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2F-Vtd1IMQ3dWc11xcCBx7hWC2kMB_-Lj1xtOY9nD6kbZi41wcZSHacgXjeA56ke9wJIxyIq334JuomWAL-ql_erb7tPF6tGdzCL5GwFq-IHr4aaYryCNIGUqYGfzdvveeE1/s320/vengeful+virgin.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Cover art that’s got the virgin mentioned in the title and a stash of cash. Pulpy! Crimey! But it turned out to be darned good read. Classic pulp crime of the double-crossing kind with a not-so-typical, yet expected twist-in-the-tail ending. Not to give away the story or play spoiler, but by the end of the second chapter, let me assure, the girl is definitely not a virgin! Though to her credit, she stays vengeful till the very end of the book, in more ways than one. But a virgin, not a chance!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So coming back to the point. Judging these books by the covers alone, they were good. And what lies n between them, even better! Check out the entire Hard Case Crime series and their awesome covers HERE. See what I told you, I can judge a book by its cover. is The Bekku awesome or is The Bekku awesome?! And no, a few paragraphs is not enough time for The Bekku to learn the subtle art of modesty.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Take a look at the complete Hard Case Crime series and their awesome covers <a href="http://www.hardcasecrime.com/books_bios.cgi" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-61814664061360401062010-02-16T13:47:00.007+05:302010-02-16T23:44:42.666+05:30Ghatotkacha & Me<div align="justify">Somewhere in my family photo album is a photograph from the time when we were in Bidar. A faded picture of me at about 4-5 years sitting on my uncle’s lap on a reddish sofa and he’s reading out to me or rather taking me through a book. It was obviously a special occasion when my uncle came visiting, hence the photo I presume, and he was coming from large magical city called Bangalore. And my uncle always came bearing gifts. And this time was no different. It was my first ever comic book. A collected volume of 10 Amar Chitra Kathas which is what he is taking me thorough in that photo. It also happened to be the first ever English book I ever laid my eyes upon. The inexplicability of the strange words and strange language meant that I understood not a thing, but this was very well compensated for by the loads of pictures and characters that the volume contained, each panel a doorway to a new adventure.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Jumping and bouncing on a sofa is a lot more fun when you are in the middle of the battle of Kurukshetra riding a chariot. Pillow fights with your sister are more enjoyable when you are fighting Duryodhana with a mace. Broomsticks find their real calling when they are arrows. The neighbour’s pesky Pomeranian is a lot more tolerable and infinitely more fun to have around when you are Babruvahana trying to chase and capture the pesky horse from Yudhishtira’s Ashwamedha that has strayed into your territory. And of the whole volume of ACK, none was more enjoyed or leafed through or lived and relived than the Ghatotkacha comic. In fact that’s what I would say was the first English book I ever read, consumed, inhaled. And my first comic. The cover showed a colour illustration of Ghatotkacha taking to the skies with Shashirekha in his hands, her cot included. A thoroughly enjoyable story with lots of magic, asuras, shape-shifting legions and flying clothes. I remember shedding a tear or two when Ghatotkacha dies. <img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438755902826248370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPNNhJDzUKEy4yelZM-EReWZTtWDX-FTpJuyts0X5K20J6EgovAhp23Oe4n0VbUd5Yu2h45ZRYCRmw6o08rX7CSxde3fGz9ijz9Qrhcq1Het1dD-sleADNBawqCl8ltTLzS_9/s320/the-bekku-ghatotkacha.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 224px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 163px;" />Flashforward a couple of years. We have shifted to Gulbarga. I am in my second standard. All grown up. Grown up enough to make my own bows and arrows from branches, twigs and twine. Old enough to walk on my own all the way to school, and take my sister along with me too. But she is still Duryodhana and I am whoever catches my fancy. My class has enough dushasanas and ravanas for me to fight with. There’s also new games like kirket and football to play now, and trees to climb and fall out off. And there’s now a new box at home called TeeVee for dinner-time entertainment. Thus the hindi lessons begin by professor Doordarshan. One fine sunday, my father tells us we’re going to a film, Maya Bazaar. What’s it about? I ask. Not that it mattered. Well, it’s about Abhimanyu, and Krishna and Ghatotkacha my father says. Ghatotkacha??? Let’s go! And so we do. Film starts. It’s black and white!!! Not a new film. And it’s in some strange language that I cannot follow. Turned out it was the Telugu original. But none of that mattered once the film hit its stride and Ghatotkacha made his appearance. There was magic! And fights! And Ghatotkacha becoming big and then small. Yay! Opening his mouth and all the food jumps right into his mouth. And the song, ‘Hoho hoho ho ho…..’ brought much glee (vid below). Having been brought up on stories from the puranas and mythology, and the staple reading being Amar Chitra Kathas, this was like the best! I remember sitting transfixed and clapping my hands in glee. So what if it was Telugu? I knew the story inside out, and my father kept interjecting now and then with some additional info. Ah. The joy. Ghatotkacha spiriting away Shashirekha. Then changing to her form and taking everyone for a ride. Lovely.<br />
<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438756374625614946" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipP-jPMaISnoy3D0QT0gKc_m0bNIDNk8qWQe24howYUZBNZXCEnVpb4HIdOMQ8h7Jj36Qa9lMeCNyqPOfWU1HwTxs7G6JebXSk2G4Gms-R6V0WVET5GM2iUbh_VIs0XuZNtgt6/s320/the-bekku-maya+bazaar.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 216px;" />The story is simple. The Pandavas are in exile. One of Arjuna’s wives Subhadra and her son Abhimanyu are staying at Dwaraka with her brothers Krishna and Balarama. Now Abhimanyu and Shashirekha, Balarama’s daughter are in love with each other having been betrothed in their childhood. But times have changed. The Pandavas are paupers and Revathi, Balarama’s wife is no longer kicked about marrying her daughter off a pauper’s son and instead pitches for Lakshmana, Duryodhana’s son and the prince of Hastinapura, exactly what Shakuni wants. As any husband with a naggy, greedy wife Balarama agrees and anyways Duryodhana was always his favourite disciple. Realising what’s afoot, the trickster Krishna makes sure the miffed Subhadra and Abhimanyu are taken through a particular route. Enter Ghatotkacha! All angry and miffed at seeing two intruders in his territory. A battle ensues – flying arrows and all – between Abhimanyu and Ghatotkacha till Subhadra intervenes after Abhimanyu is defeated and the men realize that they are cousins, brothers. Ghatotkacha being Ghatotkacha agrees to help and with his retinue proceeds with due alacrity to Dwaraka to sabotage Shashirekha’s marriage to Lakshmana Kumara. Much fun and joy ensues, including a hilarious scene where Shakuni gets a taste of his own medicine in dice and Lakshmana Kumara quite simple some bitter medicine. Lots of mirth and joy ensues for the viewer. And of course all ends well with the lovers united.<br />
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The thrill of watching Maya Bazaar continued for a while. For the next few days, I was Ghatotkacha. And try as I might, the anna sambar never jumped off the plate into my mouth like at the end of this awesome song here:<br />
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Flashfoward to Karwar a few years later. I’m pretty good at cricket, and marbles. Older now, in the 5th standard. Have beaten up enough boys for a concerned parent or two to drop by home to complain to my father about my violent ways. In my defense, they deserved it for having mocked at me because of my shaved head. Teachers’ pet at school. Holy enough to play Joseph in the school’s Christmas play. Weak enough to faint while trying my first header while playing football. And role playing game is now playing Fauji with guns. One fine sunday, my father tells us we’re going to a film, Maya Bazaar. Yay! I jump to go and get ready. Another pleasant surprise awaits at the theatre. It is in Kannada. The dubbed version. Now I can hear Ghatotkacha go ‘Hoho hoho ho ho…..’ in kannada! For the next days, I was ghatotkacha again, and the fauji guns became maces and some got turned into bows when I chose to be arjuna. And as hard as i tried, the darned food would still not float into my mouth!<br />
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Flashforward many many years. Maya Bazaar still remains a favourite watch. I’m all grown up. Approaching my 30s. Old enough buy my own VCD of Maya Bazaar, the Kannada version. Even managed to catch the play Maya Bazaar by Sri Venkateshwara Natya Mandali (Surabhi) from Hyderabad. Fabulous as it was, as much as I enjoyed the play and Ghatotkacha’s role was played amazingly well, I still missed SVR’s portrayal.<br />
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And here I sit here today, all set to go watch the original Maya Bazaar in the theatres again, this evening! In colour!! Even the new trailer is giving me goosebumps:<br />
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Looking forward with as much joy if not more. Is it the movie? Or is it a way of reliving me as I was, and used to be? Or as I wish I could be? All that I know is that I have given up even trying to get the food to float and jump into my mouth. I’m not Ghatotkacha. </div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-12876770552368768672010-02-15T17:59:00.002+05:302010-02-15T18:01:46.861+05:30Suryange torcha?<div align="justify">Literally that would mean ‘<em>don’t show torchu to the sun-nu’</em>. It’s a series of aphorisms (?) in Kannada slang whose closest English equivalent – in terms of import – would be ‘Don’t teach your grandfather how to f**k’ or more politely, ‘don’t try to teach the teacher’ or in certain cases/context ‘don’t bring coals to newcastle’. Very handy when used well. Disregarding the force-fit ones (<em>Artistgey sketcha?, Autogey stand-a?</em> etc.) here are my favourites, in no particular order:<br /><strong></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong>1. Suryange torcha?<br />2. Conductorgey ticketa?<br />3. Ravi Chandrangey remake-a?<br />4. Hajaamangey haircut?<br />5. Gomateshwarangey show na?</strong> ….and *drum roll*….<br /><strong>6. Deve Gowdagey sleeping tableta?</strong><br /></div><div align="justify">Take your pick. Use liberally. Prefixing ‘nimmajji loafer…!’ to any of the above, optional.<br />If you have more, feel free to add on the list, leave a comment. Variety is spicier and all that. </div>Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com5