3 Idiots: Follows Success, Ignores Excellence

Given it's sheer success at the box-office, different people have liked Raju Hirani's latest film on different accounts; the most obvious one being the immense entertainment quotient. I myself have been entertained every bit (including the baby delivery scene) on both occasions when I watched the movie. But after my second viewing, as an aspiring filmmaker I began to dissect the film. So let me confess that whatever is written below is just a different take that goes beyond the obvious entertainment that the film profusely provides.

The film preaches "Don't follow success; follow excellence"; but the film itself follows the success formula and ignores excellence. It shamelessly follows the Bollywood cliches (like the same education system which it complains against) and imparts bookish ideals at regular intervals to entertain those, who funnily and temporarily feel rejuvenated at realizing the ideal through the film. Like Rang de Bansathi, this film has the misleading-the-youth shade as well. Most people don't like studies, not because they are skilled at other things; but because they don't want to do anything. They just want to wander around without learning or doing anything. This film provides ample sunshine for such people to make hay.

Isn't it ironical that a lot of films that preach do not actually follow what they preach. A film that preaches peace, does it only after showcasing an entertainingly shot violent war scene. In most films, the hero winning over the wrong-doer happens only after a temptingly shot rape scene has entertained the front-bench-folks. More worse are those films that showcase sensuous bare-backed-ladies, while calling themselves conservatively traditional family dramas. What's even more crazy about these films is, they turn out to be the bigger block-busters at the ticket-window. With enough mediocrity that excites the Indian massses (including me), '3-Idiots' no doubt is an all-time block-buster.

But inspite of the film theading the success formula, there is one scene in the film which deserves to be called excellent. Rancho, having made some modifications, makes Joy Lobo's heli-camera work. He, along with Farhan and Raju, decide to surprise Joy Lobo with the working machine floating at his window. So, there is an intercut between them and the monitor which displays what the camera is capturing. The helicopter is made to fly across the hostel and everyone are excited to see the video on the monitor. Joy Lobo's room is on the 2nd floor. The helicopter is lifted to the first floor and we see a guy dancing in his breifs. Everyone, including the audience, laugh. The helicopter is lifted higher to Joy Lobo's window. The audience, like the characters in the film, are now tuned to the happy mood; just then, when the helicopter reaches Joy Lobo's window, we are cut back to the monitor to find Joy Lobo hanging from the ceiling of his room. The very next shot, we see the three heroes running as fast as they can to Joy Lobo's room. They see Joy Lobo's dead face above. But, we are only shown his hanging legs. And the focus shifts to the words on the wall: I quit. This scene, in terms of screenplay, editing, acting and background score, is the best scene to have been churned out in the recent Bollywood releases.

For me the excellent part of 3 Idiots is: Joy Lobo.

AVATAR: The Pride of Human Imagination

If there is anything that can capture human imagination to the best, it's -- cinema. If there is any cinema that clearly shows the ethereal beauty of human imagination, that's -- James Cameron's AVATAR. And if there is any line that can sum up the brilliance of this film...... then that bloody line is absolutely fake.

The story is about human greed that spreads beyond the limits of earth and tries to disrupt the placidity of a Heaven-like planet named Pandora. The story is also about human goodness that restores the flora and fauna of the deservingly beautiful world. Lastly, the story is specifically about a nice guy who feels crippled among the corrupted mankind and yearns to live among the pristine alien race.

James Cameron and Co deserve Heaven for making this movie. I don't know who can give them that. But, all I can do is..... add a few more dollars to their gross revenue, by watching this movie a few more times. Is anyone ready to join me in this divinely devilish delight?

MNIK teaser -- Pangs of Fanaticism

Sincerely, I felt it hard to appreciate the first teaser of the upcoming SRK film -- My Name is Khan. Probably because it isn't anything beyond what the director Karan Johar has been flaunting about for the past three years. There isn't anything that would excite me about the film, as the theme has been handled very recently in our own very Bollywood through films like New York and Kurbaan. Also, the film tends not to stick to the 911 incident; instead it wants to handle every major calamity that happened in the US and link it to the minority bashing. For me, that's the trace of a bad film. Had they stuck to 911 alone, it would have atleast been a sincere effort, though not a great one. And SRK, once again, seems to be a victim of insipid, one-sided, monotonous, melodramatic characterization.

Watch MNIK Teaser

The more I want to mock at SRK's arch-rival Aamir's upcoming film - 3 Idiots, the more I tend to fall in love with the teasers of that film. Aamir looks absolutely promising and there is a lot to expect from the film in terms of emotional depth. And to add, I am immensely impressed at the unique marketting strategy applied by the producers (Aamir's disguise drama).

And what on the earth has SRK been thinking when he walked out of 3 Idiots and Maniratnam's Raavan, to dedicate himself to this uninspiring theme and Karan Johar? And to add to my fury, his upcoming line up is very insipid -- A Farah Khan venture, An Anubhav Sinha sci-fi and Don2. So for another three years, the SRK fanatic in me, has to live disappointed. Such painful pangs of maintaining fanaticism!!!!

P.S. found this interesting article in a forum on religious indifference across the world: http://www.indianexpress.com/news/intolerance-is-a-twoway-street/553467/0

I wanna grow up once again....

... these are the exact words why I will watch this film, probably, a zillion times. Aamir, Raju Hirani, Maddy, Shantanu, VVC have done a great job according to the film (3 Idiots) teasers; but it's this very song (give me some sunshine) that thrills me despite how good/bad the film may turn out.

The deepest desire of a grown-up is, most of the times, to grow up once again. And as fate has it, it's among those unfulfilled desires that intensifies as the grown-up grows older. I am not sure whether it's because of not wanting to grow older or wanting to be young forever. Or it could be because of the realization that they could not accomplish a few things that need to be, during the young years.

As we grow mature, we gradually lose the luxury of doing a few things as freely and shamelessly as we could do while being immature. Somewhere down the memory lane, those free and shameless moments tickle the funny bone and if someone lacks such moments to recollect, he/she would end up sounding serious and mechanical (or so-called 'practical').

Weekend Plan: Being Funny

The funny thing about being funny is that, most times, the fun is derived by the entertained at the cost of the entertainer's embarrassment. Not many people have the courage and attitude to conceal that instinct of embarrassment, when laughed at. And out of those few, fewer folks have the humbleness not to counter the prank and stick to what they aimed to be: being funny.

Contrary to the modern generation's taste for smart humor, I somehow seem to be more inclined towards the 'being funny' kind of humor. There are technically two reasons for it... one, that I lack the intelligence for smart humor; and second, I feel the challenge of counter-prank heavier than the embarrassment of being laughed at. So I feel so much likeliness to the 'little tramp' character played by the greatest, in my dictionary of great actors: Mr Charlie Chaplin.

Never in any of the roles played by him, did I find him make fun of the audience/society which laughs at him while watching him being funny. Though this applies to most comedy actors, being fanatic is normal. And my fanaticism over Charlie Chaplin emphasizes my normalcy.

Today, out of nowhere, a few scenes from the movie 'City Lights' flashed across my mind and felt a sudden urge to watch the movie. Though it would take a couple days for Netflix to send the DVD, I decided to watch his other films online. That's the plan for this weekend: to laugh at 'being laughed' (myself).

Paa... Like Anjali

At the very outset, let me confess that the following is written not to criticize Balki's Paa, but just to compare how the structure of this story is comparable to Maniratnam's Anjali.

Like Anjali.... Paa is about an abnormal kid, Auro, who finally calls his parent affectionately before he dies. In Anjali, Anjali's last word before she dies is 'amma'. And in Paa, Auro's last word before he dies is... 'paa'.

Like Anjali.... Paa is the story of conflict between the parents of the kid, because of the kid.

Like Anjali.... Paa has children who are more mature and decent than normal kids.

Like Anjali.... Paa is a sensitive and sensible tear-jerker.

Like Anjali.... Paa has brilliant BGM by maestro Ilayaraja.

Like Anjali.... Paa has an awesome cinematography by PC Sriram.

Any more reasons required for Anjali fanatics to go, watch and love Paa? This is a highly recommended movie, folks!!!! Watch it.

Fluidity of Want.....

This week there was a go-live at work. And when things didn't go well, I had to stay awake for a couple of nights. And guess what? I wanted to sleep all the while. I prayed for the issues to get solved so that I can go to sleep. Even after I got some sleep the next day, I felt of sleeping on time later.

I began to wonder, why I was not able to sleep the previous month, when I was so conscious about getting some good sleep. And that's where the key lies..... being conscious of sleeping. The more conscious I got, the more insomniac I became. And this week, when I had work as priority on my mind, I wasn't conscious that I need to sleep; and thus, I slept. Of-course, there is the tiredness factor attached to. But I think consciousness is the main culprit.

Want.... is as fluid as water. The more we try to hold it hard, the quicker it flows out of our palms. The consciousness that it will flow out will actually make us clench our fist to hold it hard; and thereby we lose our want. So, as long as we are careful enough (make a crest so that the water stays in your hand), and keep our palm open, the water remains with us till we quench our thirst with it. Now, stop arguing about the natural process of evaporation!!!!

The Turning Point.

"What happened to your confidence, dude?" A good friend was asking me, a while ago. "Why are you sulking and self-pitying all of a sudden?" Putting a blank face before her, I wondered for a long time: Did I ever carry the self-confident look before? If yes, then why am I not even able to remember how I felt like during those days?

"What do you mean, all of a sudden!!" I chuckled. "I was like this all along!" I declared with a fake confidence. She looked at me with a concerned look. "Don't begin to get comfortable with your failures, Purnesh. You will lose yourself very soon."

Oooops. Now that's over my head. "What do you mean?"

"Your blog entries for the last couple of days are not about your failures in life."

"Then?"

"They are just a proof that you have embraced failure. You don't like to challenge your failure and step up, because you feel you are comfortable by embracing it.... by pretending to like it.... and sulking in it. It's easy and relaxing to say that you can't do something; and you have totally lost your ability to say that: you can."

Just then her extension began to ring and she took call; and I felt it's time to escape more of her lecture. I casually ambled across the aisle to my place, trying to ignore her words. But, my 'I CAN ignore her words' attitude was dominated by my 'I CAN'T ignore her words' attitude. And, as I blankly stared at my no-new-mails inbox, my screwed-up mind got disturbingly furious; and I began to think...............

As humans, we always have tendencies to put ourselves in comfort zone. It's our mind's mechanism to make peace with the world around. But, the issue is not with being in the comfort zone, but choosing the wrong zone as a comfortable one. A stable job, trust-worthy friends, a caring life-partner, a good house, a great ambition, etc are all shades of good comfort zones. The bad ones are innumerable; and failure (self-pity) is the darkest of all. Choosing failure as a comfort zone is undoubtedly the worst choice ever made by all the innocent souls, who lack friends like mine, to make them realize their folly.

/* Dedicated to all my friends who bear all my crappy-ness and hope that someday I will see the brighter side of life. Thanks, folks!!! */

Yours Faithfully: Based on true stories........

Once more....
Take One. The guy loves the girl. So he displays his honesty (yours faithfully) and tells her that he doesn't have a job yet; but he is sincerely trying for one. The girl rejects him and marries someone with a job; later, the 'devdas' gets a job.

Take Two. The guy loves the girl. So he hides the fact that he has committed murder, a few days back. He fakes that he works for an upcoming software firm. In due course, the girl falls in love with him. In a few more days, the love gets deeper and madder. They elope away and marry each other. A month later, the police catch the guy and put him behind the bars. The girl continues to love him (I know many women who consider their self-respect linked to being dedicated to the person whom they fell for; it's very much an ego problem).

Now, ignoring the simplicity with which the stories are narrated (mainly for dramatic effect), I wish to combine both the stories. And the resultant story is obvious. Why are we taught those simplistic moral science lessons from childhood? Had the first guy not been honest, and faked that he has a job, which he eventually would get, and then made the girl fall for him, it would have been a much healthier climax to the story.

Now, you folks may argue that, what if the girl gets angry on the guy for lying to her. My dear's, just check what happened in Take Two. Even if Take Two may not apply to all girls, my take is, a girl who cannot forgive her beloved for the simple lies that he told to get her, is not someone whom the guy should waste any more of his life (or lies) on.

So, my point is, the deserving-ness in the whole world is misplaced. Our fable tale moral science no longer works. Reminds me of Somerset Maugham's version of 'The Ant and the Grasshopper'.

Erich Segal's Love Story

Last night, when I picked up Erich Segal's Love Story from my bag-of-books, the memory of having turned the same pages five years ago flashed before me. It was quite an experience those days while reading this book. On the whole, I think I read this book more than five times: twice, fully from first page to last, and the rest was read like Tarantino's Pulp Fiction.

A simple story of a simpler girl and a rich guy, dwelling into their flirting, romance, love, the girl's terminal illness and the melodrama that lingers from there. The best part of any death story is the liveliness of the characters in it. Jennifer Cavelleri's quick-witted character haunted me, though not like a ghost, whenever I needed an imaginary girl-friend to make me laugh.

I was so very crazy about the book that I yearned to read more from Erich Segal and ended up buying his 'Oliver's Story' (sequel to Love Story) and 'Only Love'. And I stopped buying more. Years later, though I have read 'Doctors', Love Story remains as Erich Segal's masterpiece; and there can only be one masterpiece.

The Pursuit of Happiness

Happiness, for me, existed in: food, movies and women. I have learnt cooking. And I am learning how to make movies. But how on earth do I create women?

See, let me elaborate. If the curry is spicy, I can understand it as my excessive usage of ginger paste while cooking it. If the movie sucks, I can understand it as my lack of spontaneity while directing it. But if a woman irritates me, how on this bloody earth can I understand why she is behaving so?

My pursuit towards this third possibility of happiness has been brilliantly confusing and moderately understandable. One woman detests me because I avoided looking at her. Another detests me even more, because I looked at her. One hates me because I haven't spoken to her. Another hates because I spoke to her. One irritates me because I wasn't nice to her. Another gets irritated because I was nice to her. Isn't this all confusing? I mean, given the smart-arse status that I bear across my face, the destiny of confusion is inevitable. Isn't it?

Anyway, along my pursuit, I realized that the very same women (above mentioned) love me for something that I got shocked on realizing. They all love me for two shocking reasons: one, that I am dumb; and two, that I am concerned about them hating, detesting and irritating me over the course of our respective relationships (I think, this gives them a high that I have high-regarded their apparent bullshitting on me).

Now, stop giggling, because the last para isn't true. It's all just in my imagination. Yah! A very dumb imagination. And that's where my pursuit mostly borders along to put my mind at peace. An imagination, that however hard women hate me, that probably is their way of loving me.

Addicted to Think...............

It's like Shit. I am not sure of any better words to use to describe this feeling..... the feeling of not being able to sleep when I am free to, and not having the freedom to sleep when I am feeling to. Yawn.

The former as well-known is insomnia and the latter I would coin the term as anti-insomnia. These dizygotic 'twins' are, I think, misplaced along the time-line of my daily routine. How on earth can I align them properly? The more I force myself to sleep at night, I more late it would get for me fall asleep; and the more I force myself not to sleep at work, the more drowsy I feel all day.

It didn't take much thought to figure out the reason behind my sleeping disorder. The reason was a kind-of addiction. Addicted to Think. Now, Think-ing most of the times isn't as productive as it sounds. There must be some way to shut down this futile areas of Think-ing. So I began to Read fiction. Completing the easiest book (Chetan Bhagat) in a couple of nights, shifted my sleep by a few hours early.

Moving to the next book, probably an Erich Segal one, I feel a subtle confidence that I can handle the villainous 'twins' with heroic aplomb.

Sulk in Self-Pity...............

Take One. He looks. She looks back. He smiles. She smiles back. He asks her out. She plays a bit, but finally agrees. Over the course of an year, they know each other, they understand each other and decide to spend the rest of their lives with each other. Yah! Bits of love-hate game in between are inevitable.

Take Two. He looks. She looks back. He smiles. She smiles back. He asks her out. She plays a bit, but finally agrees.Over the course of an year, they know each other, they understand each other and decide to spend the rest of their lives with each other. But! All of a sudden, the girl marries a 'better' proposition.

Now, the above two takes are almost similar expect for the last part. How can a guy know/expect/predict the last part even before he asks her out? Any formulas or strategies to separate the fickle-minded from the normal girls? Or is it just a hit-n-trail method? If it is so, how far should one hit to come out unscathed?

Whatever, the simplest technique of self-defense is: to sulk in self-pity. No girl will even look at a guy who sulks in self-pity; and that's the best way to avoid heart-break!!!! But what if one gets addicted to sulking and self-pity-ing? Hmm.... have to think more about this............

I Couldn't......

She looked at me and I looked back into her eyes. She seemed to take a deeper look. And I was sure she would complain against me not having shaved for two weeks; or she would mock at my not-slept-for-10-days look; or she would hate something in me which I was never was aware of that I would be hated about! As I was contemplating in my mind about which option she would chose, she softly whispered 'I Love You' and gently kissed me.

I have wanted to marry her; but....... I couldn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly three years later, I wanted to write a screenplay for the kind of movie that I had in my mind; but I couldn't. I knew I can do that; I can write, but it was way to difficult than I thought it would be. I hated myself for not being able to do anything which I wanted to; I cursed the 'want' as such for mysteriously becoming difficult, exactly at the time when I proactively attempted to get it.

I tried vodka. One peg. One page got over. Two pegs. Another page went by. Wow. And the third peg......... I slept. When I woke up the next morning and read the two pages, I wished the pages on Microsoft Word were physical paper so that I could tear it into innumerable pieces.

I splashed water on my face several times, and looked at myself quite deep in the mirror. I was hoping I could find a few pages for my screenplay. But, fuck shit. Fuck that bloody shit!!!!! I look ugly. Damn Ugly. And I deserve to be hated by every gorgeous person on this beautiful planet. Sincerely, this awesome feeling of failure, probably mixed with oodles of self-pity, is giving me a higher high than my realization about my failure at writing. The destiny of 'I couldn't' is sounding comfortable than that of 'I can'.

I tried calling up a few friends and started....... yours truthfully and yours faithfully, just started, about my great realization; to which all of them, fuck them all, asked me who the fuck cares if I am not going to be writer; am I not earning enough and doing well as a software professional? I cursed them all, drank more pegs of vodka, Classic Smirnoff to be specific, splashed more water into my eyes and hated myself more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And out of that greatest hatred I felt about myself; I somehow seemed to have got the greatest realization of my life. The fact that I am doing well at something which I don't care about, is the very exact reason why I am unable to succeed at what I want to succeed at. The fact that I am earning well, which in turn is feeding my tummy to the fullest, is the absolute reason why I am not hungry enough to write.

So I wanted to fuck my job, burn all my money and growl at everyone. But........ I couldn't.

Get REAL!!!!!

I realize that I need to come out of my world of dreams.... or dreemz, the way I like to spell it; and it's high time that I get REAL. Come on!!! How long will I continue dreeming about what I want, without actually working on what I want? The reality lies in how and what I get out of what I want. Wow!!! I think I made the realization of my life at the right time; and I am absolutely feeling an absolute high about it. Wow!

But.... wait wait wait.... let me wait a second here..... It isn't that easy to get 'real'!!! So I need to work on it... I need to make a plan on how I should to get real. As I think of the various ways I can get real, it feels weird about the kind of reality we all live in. And adding to the several realizations of my life that I am making now, I realize one more realization: it's highly impossible to get real, without actually Dreeeming of getting real.

So, I declare my new DREEEEEEM: Get real!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!