Sons of Fortune

Nick wiped the last of his tears. Tears were never really part of his job description, but he told himself that everyone cries when they lose their home. Only, it pained more because it was his loved children who were doing it to him.

When the initial job pitch was made to Nick, he was all too eager to take it up because, in his dreams, Nick always wanted to work with children. He had the strong belief that children were the key to the success of mankind and whatever small part he could play in helping them, he would do it without expecting any return for himself. True to his word, he never did.

Nick walked into the staff quarters. His entire staff was currently asleep. After all, this was probably the only night they could have some well deserved rest after a work schedule that means working round the clock all through the year. Just outside the staff quarters, Nick could see the silhouettes of Rudolph and his friends, all of them busy with their dinner and looking forward to the night on the town. Come tomorrow, when everyone would ask what happened to their lovely home, Nick would not have an answer and that made him sick to the stomach.

Nick had assumed it was going right until some time back. But then, he started seeing things going awry all around. The final straw was the big hole right on top of their very home. But what hurt Nick most was that he could really remember everyone responsible for this right from their childhood, people he loved and cared about. Thinking this, Nick's desperation was slowly turning into anger. Every year, he started off with hope, only for it to be shattered by the same people whom he dedicated his life for. Adults, who once would do anything for him at the drop of a hat, were behaving like jerks who wouldn't want to share their candy even when there was enough and more for everyone. Nick remembered how he told everyone back home that things would be alright after Kyoto. But then, when everyone who agreed earlier disagreed, Nick couldn't help but wonder if these were the same children whom he once taught the values of sharing and co-existence. Nick had to make a decision now and he made a choice. He would not go out this year. No. Not for a bunch of children who would grow up to become bullies. It just wasn't worth it.

As he started walking back to his room, he heard his name being called from behind. It was Jess.
"Nick, I know what you are going through and I know that it isn't easy. But aren't you one who taught to keep personal differences aside for the common good ??".
"But Jess, I am at the point where I don't think I can do anything to help. It's over Jess."
"How could it be over Nick, how could it be ever over until He thinks it is over ??"
"Look at it for yourself Jess, Look around you. Do you even remember how this place looked like when we moved in ?? Don't you see how it looks now ?? Do you see that big hole right on top of our very home ?? Do you have any idea who did it ?? I remember every single one of them. I took care of them, now who takes care of us ??"
"Oh Nick, it was never about us. It was always about them, the children. Why don't you see it ??"
"A despicable species that destroys the home of other species to make one for itself without any guilt or remorse, and you expect me to help them. No Jess, not anymore. It just isn't worth it. It never was and it never will be".
Jess bit her lower lip and suppressed a tear. She failed miserably.

She held his hand and said:
"Nick, during the toughest of times, there is only one thing that keeps people going. Hope. Mortals can lose it. But you, aren't you hope itself ?"
Nick stared at Jess for a second. He had made his decision.

In all his years of service, Nick had always left for work with a happy heart and lot of hope. He was not going to let this year be any different. Maybe, the kids this year were good. Maybe they were great. Maybe, they would do something to reverse everything and set things the way they are meant to be. Maybe, this would be the promised generation that He always spoke about. Nick looked at Rudolph and his friends, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen, all decked up for a ready for the ride around the world. He winked at them from behind his glasses. They could all see his smile from behind his beard and nodded. Nick donned his red suit, tugged the rein-deers and off he went into the wintry sky for yet another year of hope and promise.

"Ho. Ho. Ho."

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Men In Magenta

The message from South Africa is loud and clear. If the Indian team doesn't pull up it's socks soon, Cricket is soon going the Hockey way. But do we even have the right team ?? Are we even looking at the future ?? This is an attempt to pick up an all-time Indian eleven that would beat anyone, anytime, anywhere and any day.

1. Sujith Somasundar
Undoubtedly, India's best opener. Sujith Somasundar played two matches for India against South Africa and Australia, but endeared himself to all of us by staying true to the Gully Cricket maxim : If you are facing a ferocious bowler, the best stroke is to get out of the way of the ball by moving few feet away from the leg stump and swish at the ball madly. If it meets, it goes for runs. If it doesn't, the stumps go for a ride. Either way, there is little or no damage to the limbs. Only, in Gully Cricket, we don't have gloves and pads which Sujith was undoubtedly provided with. To be fair to him, the bowler was Allan Donald and the only boundary he scored was a top edge of a bouncer which beat the slips and the 'keeper to the boundary.

2. Vikram Rathour
The Swashbuckling Somasundar has to be paired with Red-hot Rathour. Great batsmen mesmerize the bowler and the watching audience. Greater batsmen like Rathour, conversely, look constantly mesmerized. The only other individual I can think of, who is constantly 'mesmerized' and red in the eye is Vijayakanth. However, It probably is not worth mentioning that the critics call it 'The Sleep Look' and the locals call it 'The Doped Look'. Rathore managed to crack two half centuries in his one day career, but he did it at his own sleepy pace so much so that even the highlight tapes had to be fast forwarded. He returned back to domestic cricket and yawned his way to some more sleepy records.

3. Praveen Amre
If there is one set of people who are glad Amre isn't playing any more, it would be the ground staff handling the pitch microphones. Everytime Amre used to bat, it wasn't a competition between Bat and Ball, but one between Bat and Popping Crease. Amre used to hit it so hard that that had he played a longer innings in Sharjah, Petroleum would have been a natural by-product. Amre hit a career best 84 in a winning cause against SA in SA and also scored a century on debut in Durban. He had a promising career in domestic cricket, both in India and in RSA. But for most of his career, he became pretty occupied in his battle with the Popping Crease. Eventually, the Crease won.

4. Amay Khurasia
By a show of hands, tell me how many of you remember Amay Khurasia ever played for India. Yes, he did play ODIs for India, 12 of them to be exact. To his credit, he debuted with a 50, buf followed it up with a string of scores that could be comfortably represented by an earthling's fingers. Since the part of "String of single digit scores followed by a brilliant career" has already been taken by Marvan Atapattu, Khurasia returned to flog lesser privileged bowlers from Himachal Pradesh and Services on flat tracks.

5. Hrishikesh Kanitkar
Perhaps Kanitkar's singular moment as part of cricket history would have been the fact that he was at the crease when India won that historic match against Pakistan in fading light at Dhaka. One would be hard put to forget Ganguly's wonderful century and Robin Singh's match saving 80-odd in that match. But once you have done that, Hrishikesh would be a match winner. He followed it up with a 50 against Aus in India, but then, in his 30 remaining innings, hardly crossed 20. Understandably, even a Kalimark contract never came.

6. Atul Bedade
Tamil news papers have this habit of making a deal out of just about anything. Atul Bedade happened to be one. On a boring evening, sitting outside our favorite tea shop, we see Dinamalar proudly proclaiming Atul Bedade as the crown prince of Indian Cricket and how he leaves audience breathless with his massive sixes. That made a group of teenagers in Madurai sit and watch the few matches that he played. After a few swear words at the Dinamalar management and a lengthy string of below par performances where Bedade himself was the only object to cross the boundary rope regularly, the teenagers and Atul Bedade agreed for a mutual settlement. Bedade returned to the domestic scene and everyone lived happily ever after.

7. Reetinder Sodhi
Reetinder Sodhi, along with a lesser popular left hander by the name Yuvraj Singh, swept the India U-19 scene when we won the U-19 WC. India were running short of expert all rounders and I prodigiously predicted that everyone just had to wait and watch Sodhi become the next Kapil. Later, they reminded me that I also predicted that Ajit Agarkar would be the Man of The Series in the 1999 WC in England which India would oh-so-easily win. Bummer.

8. Parthiv Patel
It is public knowledge that Parthiv Patel hails from Gujarat. But the current conclusion is that he hails from Anand, which appears to offer an explanation to his butter fingers. Fast tracked into the Indian side before he could play a first class match, Patel still sports a better average on most of the folks mentioned above, but he was so enthralled being before the stumps that he apparently misplaced his priorities behind the stumps. Ask a certain Kumble.

9. Narendar Hirwani
It was Pongal (The Harvest Festival down south) time in Chennai. India were playing the (then) mighty West Indians who thrashed us in Delhi. The last test of the series unfolded in Madras and it was a riot. The WI batsman walked in, ran into Hirwani, scratched their heads and then walked back. 16 wickets for 130 odd runs and India squared the series. Hirwani then plundered the Kiwis when they played us in India. The selectors, in all their wisdom, sent him on a trip to WI, England and New Zealand aka "Graveyard of Indian Spinners Who Are Grown On a Diet of Doctored Dust Bowls". Game Over.

10. Paras Mhambrey
The 1996 series saw two of India's greats debut. S Ganguly and R Dravid. Somewhere in between was Paras Mhambrey's entry _and_ exit. Knowing that the rules for wides in Test Cricket were a bit lenient, Mhambrey took full advantage of it and bowled just about everywhere he could. After he had had his fill pitching the ball in every conceivable position, the selectors politely requested him to get back to Bombay. Thankfully for the cricketing fraternity, Paras obliged.

11. David Johnson
A sling shot action looks really good. Take for example Jeff Thompson. Only, Jeff slings it into the batsman. David thought otherwise. His stock delivery used to pitch miles away from the right hander and inexplicably swing towards the slip. This trick, unbeknownst to the casual cricket observer, completely confounded the batsman, the wicket keeper, the slip fielder and the umpire. Proof: A mad swing by the madder Slater and an acrobatic catch by Azharuddin for Johnson's freaky first test wicket. The video is now a hot favorite for the "How not to bowl" and "How not to bat" classes in cricket academies.

Worthy Mentions
Sadagopan "I look good on TV hosting comedy shows" Ramesh
Debasis "Am I a fast bowler bowling spin or a spin bowler bowling fast" Mohanty
Deep Das "Geographical proximity to the captain and the board president helps" Gupta
Harvinder "Inventor of the hybrid Short-Yorker which pitches like a short-pitched delivery and rises like a yorker" Singh
Dodda "Bowling swalpa chikka(l)" Ganesh

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

A Few Good Salesmen

All the foreign documentary makers who have stereotyped India as a country of snake-charmers and cows need to be given a second chance. They can be offered a trip to this road on an auspicious day, and assuming they make it out alive, be asked to re-evaulate their options.
Excerpt from "Welcome to Death Valley a.k.a North Usman Road".

A big poster of a young lady with lots of love for her father in her eyes overlooks the entrance into one of the leading Jewellery shops. It reads "If your daughter doesn't deserve a platinum ring, who else does ??". Within no time, a whole line of fathers with lots of lover for their daughter queues up. Clearly, its not just the mega-serials that tap our sentiments.
Excerpts from "Mega Serials and Their Hidden Agenda"

When Lady A is thinking Parampara Pattu is probably the way to go, Lady B suggests Swayamvara Pattu. Lady C disagrees because Samudhrika Pattu clearly beats them hands down. However, according to the Lady D, that is because they haven't seen Vivaaha Pattu. Somewhere among all this, the store owners laugh their way to the bank and the original weaver from Kancheepuram who made all the four sarees is wondering what all the fuss is about.
Excerpt from "Nobody's Fool"

"This is not the Yellow color that I wanted".
"The Magenta would have been great if it had the border of the Teal one".
"I saw a beautiful saree when I got married in 1978. Do you have the same design for my daughter ??"
The Salesmen could answer "Errmm, there is only _one_ yellow according to the Rainbow", "We don't have that because it would suck" or "The only thing that has stayed the same since 1978 is the Ambassador and we can't give you that" respectively. But he can as well kiss his job Good Bye.
Excerpt from "The Thriving Art of Salesmanship and The Dying Salesman"

"I want this problem fixed".
"I want the feature that Solaris has in this operating system"
"We badly need a solution"
The software fraternity answers "Upgrade to the new release", "Thst is Solaris and this is not" and "You are not big enough for us to spend our time on you" respectively.
Excerpts from "1001 Famous Excuses for Software Folks"

Clearly the software mafia (includes Directors, Managers, Leads, Engineers, Response Center - the works) is the biggest whiner in the history of God's creation. Consider any one listed above from the software fraternity. Workplace is air conditioned round the clock, Free internet, At times free grub, Yearly raises as a right, Free petrol for the select few, Free car for the select few and a probably the best introduction into the marriage market. All this and they barely have to sell anything. Sofware Folks, get a life. Saree Salesmen, I bend my knee and bow my head to thee.
Excerpts from "The Life and Death of Saree Salesmen."

Women always pick the 'n'th saree where 'n' is a complex number that is a derivative of the table's strength to withhold sarees before giving in, the jealous look on the neighboring women's eyes and the strength of the pre-planned collective gasp of amazement let by every salesmen in the floor on cue when they think enough is enough. Popular criteria like a bored and dejected male companion, proximity to lunch time, the last train back home are myths.
Excerpt from "Da Saree Code"

On an average, it takes 72 women hours for a benchmark shopper (Read: Case where there are no visible tears in the eyes of the salesmen and the companion) to buy three sarees. It takes 15 women minutes for a benchmark shopper to buy a Veshti for the male companion. Reason: _Each_ shop has a _zillion_ varieties of sarees. All shops have _the same two_ varieties of veshtis.
Excerpts from "The Dominant Sex Alright, But Which One ??"

If a Double-Sided Saree costs 68000 rupees, wouldn't it be prudent to buy two sarees for 34000 each since
a) one cannot wear both the sarees at the same time
b) two people can wear two sarees while it might be a bit difficult to do it in a double sided saree without breaking the Laws of Physics.
Of course, there is a basic assumption that 68000 bucks for two sarees is within cardiac-arrest levels of the man.
Excerpt from "Favorite Last Questions By Men"

Bold men have tried to force their wish on the saree selection process, but have been rebutted with the unwinnable argument "The saree happens to be the _only_ thing that I like in this whole marriage. Do you want to disappoint me on that too ??"
Excerpt from "Championship Point"

Encouraging the favorite pastime of men (constant complaining for no apparent reason), Keeping million households alive by their wants, Keeping the economy of otherwise struggling areas like Kancheepuram unlike their male counterparts who are bent upon contributing to filthy rich money barons like ITC, UB and the likes, Yep, that demands a standing ovation from all Men (disgruntled or otherwise) to all you Women out there. Go Girl.

Andhar balti (Sommersault) in the end I agree, but undeniably true.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Our Story

Conceding that this blog is inspired by the genre-defining "Pudhu Pettai" would be an embarassment. Let us say the truth lies somewhere closer to the fact that I am no good at Science Fiction stories. With studios churning out epic after epic with an ever-increasing body count and gallons of ketchup-blood, unsurprisingly, I decided to narrate one of the bloodiest encounters from my own personal life.

A rainy evening in Madurai. 4 teenagers standing around a friend of theirs, all of them seemingly agitated. The camera swoops in on them from the roof of the nearest building and freezes on each of the guys with a voice over.
Voice Over: The guy in the center, breathing like a 1770s locomotive, is Veerasamy a.k.a Veera. Veera is a curious kid with an interesting disposition. If he wanted to know how the color Green would look like, he wouldn't hesitate to kick Dr. Bruce Banner in the face. The guy next to him is Anbu. Anbu aspires to be a terror to any batsman on the field, but in reality is a terror only to the parents of a teenage girl who lives next door. The third guy is Kannan. Kannan is one of the biggest optimists anyone has known. He watches every Vijayakanth movie on the day of the release hoping that atleast this one would be good. That lean thing between Guy #3 and Guy #2 is definitely not an electric wire. That is Muthu a.k.a Baasha. The undisputed leader of the band and yes, a live wire. That fat thing right next to Muthu is not a sack of rice. That is Arunthur. He is not worth describing.

The camera now shows Veera up close, heaving. Cuts to a black-and-white sequence in a hand-held camera of a fight between two teams playing a cricket match. Veera heaves. Cut to a b&w sequence: the umpire declaring our team as winners and us, particularly Veera, laughing at the losers who swear they wouldn't let us play the Final if we ever get there. Veera heaves again. Cut to a b.w.s: Veera, on his way to the Final, runs into said team and rubs it in. Veera continues to heave. Cut to a b.w.s: Veera, on the way back home, gets way laid in a dark alley by guys equipped with dangerous weapons. Veera doesn't appear to stop heaving.

The camera now swivels around the rest of the gang. Each one showing a distinct facial expression that can be caused either by indigestion or extreme rage.
"When ??"
"8 PM"
"Where ??"
"5th Ave and 14th Street"
A nod of the head and the message is understood. We are going to hit back. They don't mess with us. Heck, Nobody messes with us. With no words spoken everyone hurries back home. When everyone is back and ready to leave, it hits Arunthur that folks didn't go home just to change. Arunthur commits the biggest blunder that hitman ever can. He forgot to pick his tools.

"Be right back", says Arunthur and runs home. His first weapon of choice is always the sickle which the maid uses to cut thorny bushes. As he lifts it high up seeing the glint reflect on his face, Cut to b.w.s. with h.h. camera and shaky effect : A much younger Arunthur coming home after watching Devar Magan, seeing the sickle lying around, trying to imitate the scene where Kamal picks one from behind, drawing a straight bloody line from the coccyx uptil the neck, dropping the sickle, suppressing a scream and running to the shower. No, not a sickle. Not too handy. It was then that Arunthur finds his Excalibur.

Cut to the rendezvous point and everyone notices a movement in the darkness. Arunthur, spurred by his new found courage, takes a step forward. Veera puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him.
"Never enter the dark. That is where they have people hidden in vehicles with weapons", says Veera, scanning the darkness with his eyes. Arunthur's courage takes the next flight to Timbuctoo on a one-way ticket. People hidden in vehicles ?? Who are we dealing with here exactly ??

"Ahoy. Is that you guys ??", screamed Muthu.
"Yes", came a strong voice back.
"Come out from the darkness. We want to see you", Muthu screams back.
A beat.
"No, you guys come here", this time there was a visible twitch.
Arunthur and folks look at each other.
"No, you guys come out".
Silence.
"No, you guys come here".
After some heavy persuasion and prolonged screams of "You first", both the gangs decide to take a few steps forward and meet in semi-darkness which is exactly when the lightning cracks, showing us a glimpse of the opponen't contingnet. Clearly outnumbering us 1 to 2. Muthu and Veera walk up to meet two from the other gang while Arunthur is now hanging at the tail end of the pack with the others, trying to remember how he walked into this.

Everytime Veera screams at the top of his voice pointing fingers at the opponents, Arunthur winces when they are going to scream to the mercenaries hidden in the dark. "Try to look least bothered. Don't let them see you bleeding. It's okay to be scared, but don't show it", Arunthur tells himself. As the animated discussion with over-exaggerated movement of limbs goes on in the middle, Arunthur looks from end to end for that hidden vehicle and it's illustrated occupants and mentally finalises the escape routes for him and his friends if and when the opponents give the "Go Ahead" signal (Read: Running for dear life with Army of men yelling expletives chasing). At the end of the discussion, the signal comes. Only it was Muthu waving for the rest of the gang to join in. A truce had been achieved. But what happens next takes everyone by surprise. The opponents want to apologise to Veera. Game, Set and Match - Us. No chases, no weapons, no blood and the War has been won.

Walking back home, smarting over this political victory, Arunthur slowly wipes off the sweat from the back of his neck when no one is looking. Veera suddenly stops all of them.
"Everyone did well, but Arunthur, you were awesome"
"Me ?? Eh .. Really ?? Umm, Why .. exactly ??"
"You know that careless look in your eyes, scanning the area for surprises and not to mention, your size. That definitely put them on the backfoot"
Arunthur has made his bones. Arunthur is now a force to reckon. The next time anyone is in trouble, Arunthur is going in and will do his thing (careless look, hand gestures, looking end to end) and scare the crap out of mobsters. Arunthur might even wear a tuxedo and make offers that people cannot refuse.

"Actually, it was nothing really. With my tool in hand, I don't think I will ever be scared".
"Tool ?? What tool ??"
"This", says Arunthur, showing his Excalibur. A letter opener. Even if the sharpness didn't get them, the rust would have.
"Sheesh, you brought something, this, for what ??"
"I don't know. What did you guys bring ??"
"Nothing".
"What ?? Nothing ?? But all you guys went home !!"
"I went to wear my belt", quips one.
"I went to change my slippers", chirps the other.
"I had had heavy lunch in the afternoon", confesses the third. Arunthur now knows it wasn't anger on his face in the introductory frame with the voice over.
"Seriously, you can't cut even wet paper with this letter opener" and everyone laughs.

Arunthur contemplates a career in mountain climbing and diving head first from there.

From the end credits:

- The "opponent gang" that had around eight or nine people, all of them severly malnourished.
- The dangerous weapons they used to hurt Veera are widely known as hands and legs.
- The word "Tool" does not convey the punch the word "poruL" conveys in Thamizh. Nope. Never in a hundred years.
- It didn't rain that evening. The wet look was included to give Arunthur and his friends some authenticity.
- Arunthur only scratched a portion of his back trying to take the sickle from his back. But more blood means more realistic and hard hitting, and by effect, cult classic.
- 5th Ave and 14th Street are probably in NewYork. In Madurai, you have Keezha Maasi Veedi and Azhagar Kovil Road. The real incident happened near some nameless alley opposite Bhai Kadai.
- A little "extra-fitting" to an average story never hurt.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Scores Say "See"

this Scorsese blockbuster and undoubtedly, am one of them. If you are really expecting an impartial review from someone who used to check IMDB on a daily basis over the last year to see what's up with this movie, all that I can say is that my heart, well and truly, goes out for you.

Before I get into the review, do be informed that there are spoilers aplenty. A spoiler is anything that reveals information about a movie which could spoil the viewing pleasure. So, if you are one of those eccentrics who barks at your friends even for spilling inconsequential information, leave now or hold your peace.

With the movie being a remake of "Infernal Affairs", a movie I thoroughly enjoyed, comparisons to the original are inevitable and more often than not, the remake is conveniently thrashed concluding that it would never match it's original. "The Departed" begs to differ. Although I wouldn't say that it beats the original, it clearly stands up on it's own merit. Before I start on what worked, let me get the "What Didn't Work" part done.

Why the "rat on the railing" scene ?? Shouldn't those directorial touches pass you by instead of trying to jump and strangle you ??

The equivalent of "344 Wash Ave" in the original was iconic. The DiCaprio/Sheen sequence and the DiCaprio/Damon sequence pales in comparison to the Leung/Wong and Leung/Lau scenes from the original. In the original, the building was a character. In the remake, the building is, ermm, a building.

A plot hole to drive a hovercraft in : Leung had to call Lau to the building because the only person who knew his real identity, his best friend and mentor - Wong - had been killed there trying to protect Leung's identity. He was at a dead end and his reaction is understandable. DiCaprio, on the other hand, only had to sit at home and watch re-runs of Seinfeld waiting for Wahlberg to return.

Costigan vs Chan - A desperate, angry Chan over a neurotic, angry Costigan.
Sullivan vs Ming - A conflicting, but somewhat sympathetic Ming over an opportunistic, dislikeable Sullivan.
Advantage Infernal Affairs.

Now for what works:

Jack Nicholson - I forgive you for doing "Anger Management". You still have to beat "A Few Good Men" and "The Shining" before you retire.

Matt Damon - Sullivan is probably second only to Ripley.

DiCaprio vs Leung - An absolutely brilliant performance by DiCaprio, but a powerfully moving one by Leung. Let us just call it a tie.

"With a loaded gun at your head, What is the difference ??"
"I am the one who is doing his job. You must be the other guy"
"Cranberry Juice ??"
"One of us had to die. With me, it tends to be the other guy"
William Monahan, I am going to wait for your next movie.

The music score with Rolling Stones (Gimme Shelter), Roger Waters (not exactly the best rendition of "Comfortably Numb", but still) and Dropkick Murphys (Shipping up to Boston). Awesome.

Watching Scorsese get back to a genre which has his stamp all over it. I now know how people would have felt watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

I Love It - I Love It Not

Some great performances by bowlers after having to watch them get massacred all around the world. Ntini gets a five-for last night. A total of 250 runs scored for around 16 wickets in 80 overs few days back. Does anyone remember the joke that was 860 runs in less than 100 overs ?? Forget the dustbowls and enjoy watching batsman shiver when Bond and Ntini run upto the crease. Just implement the two-bouncers rule and get the C back in Cricket. Good. Finger-licking Good.

The splurge of One Day cricket being played. Hail to everyone who calls it Pyjama Cricket. With Innerwear Cricket (20/20 for the uninitiated) just around the corner, soon everyone is going to forget how to fend a rising delivery. Bad. Mind-numbingly bad.

Surprises, and a good number of them. Perennial dark horses New Zealand showing their team is far greater than the sum of it's individuals. An old and considered-dead dynasty called West Indies cricket resuscitating itself back to life. Renowned chokers SA preparing for a slug fest against Aus to rekindle some old rivalries. Good. Fist pumping good.

Which smart aleck thought of this format ?? A six-match parade of mediocre cricket capped off with the biggest of them all, Zimbabwe Vs Bangladesh. [ For Football fans: Andorra vs Liechenstein For NFL fans: Texans vs Raiders ] Who makes these decisions anyway ?? Bad. Are-you-out-of-your-minds Bad.

No dead rubbers towards the end of the round robin stages with most matches being a virtual Quarter-Final or atleast with playoff (if I could use that word ;-)) implications. Good. Thank-goodness-for-that Good.

The World cup is six months away. The World cup. The biggest prize in ODIs. Just six months away. What business on earth is a tournament called the mini world cup doing this point of the year ?? Ah, the bottomless coffers of the cricket boards. Bad. Greedy-dirty-swines Bad.

At the ristk of speaking too soon, the Australian cricket team biting dust. Good. Heart warmingly good.

The blue billion ads with Shah Rukh Khan and Sourav Ganguly. Bad. Singularly Bad.

Probably the strongest wake up call to the Indian team before the World Cup. The boot is polished and shined to kick out complacent batsmen like Virender "Footwork is for Michael Jackson" Sehwag, Suresh "I field like nuts and I bat for peanuts" Raina, Mohammad "Heck, First I need a place to bat" Kaif, Irfan "Am I a batsman or a bowler or both or neither" Pathan and Yuvraj "I like to relax for 15 matches after a century" Singh. Good. Billion times Good.

Extraaaaa Innings. How does it feel to be a Yorkshireman or a Southern Australian and listen to a sitting Member of Pariliament who is hell bent on inventing ridiculous idioms in your mother tongue at the drop of a turban ("You have to break an egg to make an omlette. You have to break out of your shell to score runs")and intellectually stimulating questions like "If India play well, they would win. Wouldn't they ??" from an afternoon soap opera queen wearing strapless tops ?? Bad. Barfing Bad.

Empty stadiums. The average Indian cricket sports fan is known for his globalalised knowledge in cricket. S/he never used to care who played whom as long as it was a worthwhile matchup. May his/her soul rest in peace. If India fails to make it to the Semis, the coffer-totting cricket boards and the the sponsors can buy a khadi-kraft towel and cover their heads. Bad, for the disappearing love of sports and Good, for the sucker-punch to the greedy cricket boards.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Few More Good Men

Talking about movie duos, some remember popular icons like Amitabh Bachan and Jaya Bhaduri while others remember under-rated pairs like Sivakumar and Saritha. There is another unclassified lot which remembers Satyaraj and Nameetha. This blog is not about any of them, but tries to acknowledge a few other stellar pairs which don't make omlettes around the other's navel.

5. Dicaprio and Scorsese

I can see the pro-scorsese lobby hinting that there is a typo and the name of the actor is actually spelt D-e-N-i-r-o. I perfectly understand. "Raging Bull", "Cape Fear", "Taxi Driver", "Casino", "Mean Streets", "Good Fellas", "King of Comedy", "New York, New York". Just how could one justify leaving out this celebrated pair from _any_ movie related blog ?? Hmm, maybe by the fact that, in reality, the author of the blog is a charlatan who has just seen only one of the aforesaid works ?? What DeNiro was in the early 80s, DiCaprio is becoming in the 2000s. With performances in "Gangs of New York" and "The Aviator" breaking him out of his candy-boy image he acquired from that movie with a big ship and a bigger iceberg, DiCaprio has definitely broken into the big league. The new Scorsese-DiCaprio movie, "The Departed", has been critically acclaimed (like many other Scorsese movies) and has also been a commercial success (unlike many other Scorsese movies). DiCaprio and Scorsese have already announced their new project, a bio-pic on Ted Roosevelt. The DiCaprio-Scorsese combine might not have achieved what the DeNiro-Scorsese pairing achieved, but it certainly looks good to get there someday.

4. Alfred Hitchcock and James Stewart

Alfred Hitchcock is a man who could make a nail-biting thriller with a cup and saucer set. Such is the immense talent of the man that he made people hesitate even before hitting the shower. When he combines with the everyday-man persona of James Stewart, the movies become startlingly life-like that it could actually happen to you. Their resume reads the under-appreciated "Rope", the slightly-over-the-top "Man Who Knew Too Much" and the classic-for-the-ages "Vertigo". At this point, it is well worth a shot to put forth Cary Grant as Hitchcock's best leading man (North by Northwest, To Catch A Thief). But James Stewart pulls one back with what is probably one of their best works in that gem of a movie called "Rear Window". Grab it first and watch it now.

3. Bhimsingh and Sivaji Ganesan

Whoever says Sivaji Ganesan hammed his way through his movies would probably also say that Charles Babbage was a worthless scientist because he didn't invent the Pentium Chip. Sivaji has had great movies with just about any director, a nod to his versatility. BR Panthulu stakes his claim as probably the best director to have worked with Sivaji. See for yourself : VeerapaaNdiya Kattabomman, Sabaash Meena, Kappalottiya Thamizhan and KarNan. Two biopics, A mythological costume drama and a light-hearted comedy to bring out different facets of the actor that is Sivaji. But with due respect to Panthulu, Bhimsingh beats him at the post with his contemporary, serious social movies. Be it a cripple who longs for acceptance in "Baaga Pirivinai" or a brother who defined the love for his sister in "Paasa Malar" or a disappointed husband who never stops trying in "Padithal Mattum Podhuma", Bhimsingh and Sivaji brought the movies closer to home than ever before.
Note : I have not even mentioned other classics like "Paalum Pazhamum", "Paarthal Pasi Theerum", "Padikkadha Medhai" and "Paava Mannippu".

2. Sergio Leone and Clint Eastwood

An actor/director combination which has been forced to work with each other for a bunch of listless sequels are available by the dozen. Mel Gibson and Richard Donner come to my mind immediately. What Leone and Eastwood did was to make the three movies great enough to be stand-alone movies despite being sequels of a sort. (Nitpickers: Yes, "Good,Bad and The Ugly" is technically a prequel.). For generations of people who have seen their famous super stars deliver a performance of infinite style with limited or no dialogue, The Man With No Name might not come out as someone new. But to imagine that even today the Simbhus and the Vijays rely on what Clint Eastwood did 40 years back speaks for itself. The barren landscape, the steely eastwood and some inventive camera work makes this duo one of the best. With a heavy heart, Steven Spilerberg and Harrison Ford, who combined to make what is possibly the best trilogy to date, take a bow and enter my "All Time Trilogies List" or some such.

1. Tim Burton and Johnny Depp

True they have made only four movies (excluding "Corpse Bride") unlike Chuck and Aaron Norris who have doled them out by the score. True Tim Burton at times makes movie that are so hard to understand. True that Tim Burton has made some great movies with other actors (Michael Keaton, for example). True that Johnny Depp has made other great movies with many other directors. But for the sheer amount of visual enjoyment that the three movies have given me, be it the backdrop or the performances and the colosally varied plots they have, I vote for Burton-Depp as the most entertaining Director-Actor combine that I have ever seen. While you can pin most of the actor-director combines under one broad head, Burton and Depp beg to differ with a dark fairy tale, a failed director's bio-pic, a children's joy ride and a ghoulish thriller. Ranks one in my book definitely.

Burton is no stranger to challenge the limits on visual creativity. His Batman movies stand tribute to that. Hence it is not a surprise when Tim Burton brings his own unique vision to the screen - be it a self-centered american suburb or the 1950s Hollywood or a mysterious chocolate factory or a turn-of-the-century village in upstate New York. Ably complementing this visual brilliance is Depp in his roles as a misunderstood machine-man, a complicated director, an eccentric inventor and an honest, resourceful but bumbling cop. Stand-out movie-fare.

Disclaimers, Other honorable mentions and Plain Lame Excuses:

I notice that hardcore movie fans still cannot believe that they didn't see Akira Kurosawa & Toshiro Mifune (Yojimbo, Sanjuro), arguably one of the greatest pairs to have ever graced filmdom, get a single mention. Hindi movie fans might find it hard not to see Prakash Mehra & Amitabh Bachan (Zanjeer, Muqqadar Ka Sikkandar, Sharabi) in this list. PLE #1: I have did my homework and collected Kurosawa-Mifune DVDs. Just give me some more time. PLE #2: My knowledge of Hindi movies is second only to my knowledge of Organic Chemistry. Next to nothing.

Back home, SP Muthuraman & Rajinikanth have churned out such commercial hits like "Nallavanukku Nallavan", "Guru Sishyan" and the master-kung-fu-master-teach-me-kung-fu inspired "Paayum Puli" while the yester-year combination of K Balachander-Nagesh have some timeless classics in "Neer Kumizhi", "Anubhavi Raja Anubhavi", "Edhir NeechaL", "Bama Vijayam" and "Major Chandrakant". K Balachander also has his share of classics with Kamal Hassan in "AvargaL", "Apoorva RagangaL", "VaRumayin Niram Sivappu" and "Unnal Mudiyum Thambi".

For all card carrying members of the pacifist group "Equality to women in the blogosphere, or else...", Saritha (Achamillai Achamillai, Thanneer Thanneer) and Sowkar Janaki (Iru KodugaL, Edhir Neechal") have had some memorable performances with K Balachander while Savithri has a few with BhimSingh (Paasamalar, Padithal Mattum Podhuma, Paarthal Pasi Theerum). So, there.

If you are planning to fast unto infinity because I missed your greatest movie duo of all time, the Klueless Karan Johar/Shah Rukh Khan combination or the Self-indulgent Selva Raghavan/Dhanush combination, do accept my best wishes for a resounding success in your attempt.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Wham, Bam and Thank You Mr. Defensive End

Few days back I read a post by my friend about his trip to New York in which he describes his distaste for American Football (in his own words, "Fraud Football"). The First Critic screams back at me for filling up a substantial portion of the mail covering the current state of the Steelers after their loss against the Jags on Monday Night Football. My mom thinks watching burly men run around in tights and hit each other's helmets is singulary resonspible for my periodic screaming at everyone. In essence, there seems to be a complete dislike for American Football in the vicinity. Considering the amount of time I spend daily watching/reading/playing it is substantial, there has to be a way for me to justify it. Ergo, this blog.

I am not going to deny the fact that American Football has it's own disadvantages. Their downright reliance on statistics and records for one. "X becomes the first player in the history of the NFL to have scored a 10 yard run on a 3-and-out situation against the Chicago Bears in a Monday Night Football game while trailing by 10 points or more in an away game". This is something similar to saying "Harbhajan Singh becomes the first player in history to score a boundary of the third ball of McGrath's 9th over when India is chasing a score of 224 in 50 overs at Perth". Frankly, who even cares ??

The winner of the Super Bowl is the World Champion. Clap Clap. Hear Hear. Applause Applause. Only, the NFL has 32 teams from the length of breadth of a single country called the United States of America. Even the winners of MLB and NBA are World Champions, but atleast they have one team (Toronto Blue Jays and Toronto Raptors respectively) from outside of the US (although many still think "Canada ?? Isn't that our far-northern protectorate ??").

But all this shouldn't take the shine out of the game or the organisation that runs it, the NFL.

For starters, the regular season and its scheduling. The NFL schedules its games in such a way that any given team X would have played all the other teams in the league in a phased manner, atleast once at home and once on the road, within a block of 8 years. No cases of England playing Australia every two years while the Zimbabweans tend their farms and chicken waiting for their next tri-series with the mighty kenyans and the invincible Bangladeshis.

If you are strategically inclined, then American Football is for you. The Offense can Rush/Pass, using a Play Action/ Draw/ Screen/ Reverse/ Double Reverse by giving the ball to the Half-back/Full-back/Wide Receiver/Tight End. At times, the QB himself does the scramble. Not to be outdone, the defense can either choose to Blitz the QB/run a Man Coverage covering the Wide Receivers/run a Zone Coverage for Pass Protection. All this happens for a single play, play after play. If some half-baked NFL fan can sound off so much, imagine the possiblities when two experienced head coaches like Bill Belichic and Bill Parcells go head to head.

Unlike Football (where a handful of players can rest at any given time) or Cricket (where only a handful of players play at any given time), American Football has all the 22 players on the field performing a certain function. Run, Blitz, Protect, Pass, Scramble, Tackle, Sack, Intercept, Fumble, Return, Punt, Block.

To all the Football (Round Ball, 11 players, Remove upper vest on scoring a goal) fans : Have you seen what European Football got reduced to ?? ESPN Star proudly annouces a program which is about "the clubs, the players, their girl friends, their gossips". Sad.

The NFL has a strict substance abuse policy. It would have been "Good Bye Warney" a long time ago.

The NFL has a strict salary cap policy. No Abramovich-ish supermarket-of-a-football-team here.

It appears to be entirely normal to headbutt someone in the chest even if they had not insulted anyone in the immediate family.

Thanks to it's relative unpopularity in India over other games, one doesn't have to put up with
a) a billion experts who have a say on just about anything that happens on the field and seem to know just the right way to run the national team
b) a horde of players asking me to drink/wear/use/drive/eat/invest in/buy something which I have no need for.
c) a dozen tv news channels running a dozen programs with a dozen no-good retired players saying nothing new.
As an added bonus, it gives me that pseudo "hey this guy knows his game" look despite having watched less than 20 games in my whole life.

Lastly, the game is still pristine and untouched by the hands of thamizh movie producers. No rip roaring sequences of "Jeyam" Ravi/"Thimiru" Vishaal/"Manmadhan" Simbu making that game winning touchdown to save the day. Atleast, not yet. Gulp.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Another Week, Another Adieu

But this time it's not a teary one for me like the last week because it is only Michael Schumacher who decided to hang his boots. While more than half of the motorsport fandom mourns his departure, I am going to try and break a few myths about the one man whom I have seen only once, from behind a wired fence, but gone onto detest like never before.



A disclaimer before you proceed further. What you are going to read might hurt. A burning desire to take the nearest sharp object and land up at my door is imminent. Your vocabulary of swear words will be refreshed. Your pillow will go out of shape. An itch to leave an anonymous comment will develop. Before you do all this more:

- If you are one of those fan boys who started watching Formula 1 after or from the 2000 season, just keep watching your race recordings of M Schumacher. I couldn't care less for your opinion on Formula 1, my blog or life in general.

- If you started watching Formula from the 98 season, tell me what made you to follow M Schumacher of all people. I started at the same time and I couldn't bring myself to.

- If you started watching Formula 1 from even before (Senna, Prost and the likes), Yes, do leave your comments with your names. I would much appreciate it.

- If your Formula 1 days started even before, (Villeneuve Sr and the likes), I bow to thee and thy superior knowledge. Maybe you have a valid point about M Schumacher which I cannot see.

Schumacher is the best driver to have ever driven a Formula 1 car

Virender Sehwag scored a century on debut, hence he is greater than The Don. Did I hear you laughing your head off ?? Precisely what I do when one from the "MS for life" club spouts such fundaes. Shall we have a consensus on how it is impossible to compare two people from two different ages ?? Brabham and Senna and Mansell drove in an age which was devoid of so many technical advancements that are available now. Heck, Schumacher is not the best driver to have ever driven a Formula 1 car in his own age, forget all-time great.

Give MS a Minardi, and still he will be a World Champion
I got three numbers for you. 1998. 1999. 2005. Give MS an all-conquering Ferrari and he still cannot win. End of arguement.

MS is the rain master.
Brazil 2003 - MS parks his car a few laps before the race.
Spa 1998 - MS drives on the racing line and extends it to the back of Coulthard's Mclaren.
Hungary 2006 - Tries one overtaking too many and breaks his nose, I mean the car's.
Australia 2005 - As his wont, MS ends his race with Heidfeld's.

Rain Master ?? Bah.

Further, proof that Schumacher can't see well in the dark. Monaco 2004.
Proof that Schumacher can't see well in broad daylight. Shanghai 2005.
Ergo, Schumacher is blind.

MS resurrected Ferrari. If Ferrari is a champion, it is because of MS

Another favorite rant of mis-informed fan boys. If MS is a sea-anemone, then Ferrari is the clown fish. People who have seen MS drive for ferrari in the late 90s swear by his talent and sheer will and I completely agree that it was his resolve that brought Ferrari from the mid-pack to the forefront. But then, there came a point, in the early 2000s where the Ferrari dominance over the rest of the pack gave MS an unassailable lead over his rivals.

Take for example the careers of MS's team mates. Eddie Irvine. People who probably saw him in the Jaguar first would be hard pressed to believe that at one point of time he was a championship contender with Ferrari. Heck, wikipedia reports that had the current scoring system been used then, Irvine would have been World champion in 1999. In 2000, he made the move to Jaguar. He disappeared. Did he actually lose his talent overnight from runner up to nobody ??

Rubens Barrichello consistently finished second to MS in the championship ratings when he was with Ferrari. With Honda, he is competing against Christian Klien and Mark Kubica. Did some ET just steal his talents ??

An year back, all that Felipe Massa did was to whine after every race. This year, our man wins races, blocks alonso and talks about how winning is the only thing that matters for him. So, did he just load a "Champion Driver" program like in the Matrix ??

In short for the impatient, three drivers who seemed to challenge for the world title, are/were reduced to also-rans out of Ferrari. Unless MS comes out and proves he isn't one, (which he would so conveniently avoid with a tearful, heart-breaking farewell speech in Brazil), all that the fanboys can do is to speculate. And before you start, V Rossi did just that.

MS's honesty and commitment leaves me speechless

Believe me, it leaves me speechless too.

In Adelaide '94, MS tries to tell Damon Hill a secret and in the process takes his car out along with his own. If Damon Hill had retained his position, he would have been the champion.

In Jerez '97, MS tries to tell Jacques Villeneuve the same secret, however the FIA decides that he has shared one too many secrets and strips him off his points. Incidentally, had JV been taken out, guess who would have been the champion ??

In Monaco '06, MS inexplicably tries to tell the very same secret to the residents of the principality. The FIA docks him 20 places.

Despite the FIA scheming to stop his wins, MS comes out as a champion every time

Seriously, I lost count of the number of times when an FIA ruling had explicitly suited MS. I am not going to point out the stewards from Italy (from where Ferrari comes from) gave Alonso a penalty which Renault clearly showed was wrong by TV replays. How about the incident at Hockenheim in 2003 when the stewards pushed him back on trace while almost everyone else is asked to leave the car ?? The fact that Hockenheim is in Germany is probably irrelevant.

Renault's mass dampers are off despite stewards ruling it fair. BMW-Williams get accused for having a car with incompatible wheel base. But for some reason, the Ferrari flexi wings and the coolants take their own sweet time to be resolved. You tell me.

Michael Schumacher is a self-made man

Pray tell me if there is a small foot note for the tactical genius of Brawn and Todt somewhere in the biography of Michael Schumacher. Brawn is the guy who once got MS up in first after a fourth routine pitstop. Yes, a fourth pitstop which was routine, you read it right. Todt is the guy who did this small matter of giving MS a car that hardly developed a problem since Hockenheim 2001. Ah, never mind them small fish.

You are plain jealous of Michael Schumacher

I never had any qualms agreeing to the fact that MS is one of the best drivers to have ever driven a F1 car. The 2000 season, a testimony to the fact that one can never underestimate MS and his will to win. The 2003 season where he came back to win after a mishap in the family. MS's cool composure when the back end of his car on fire, and what more, going on to win the race. MS's qualifying lap times which are down until the final few seconds, and then, as the curtains are coming down, in comes a fast lap which is so appropriately described "Michael Magic". People who have been following MS's career from the Jordan days remain unswayed from his fandom, courtesy: his unquestionable talent. To get a good team become a great team shows his self belief and skills. But the problem comes when everyone seems to forget that The Big Red Machine was _the_ important cog in MS's winning wheel. MS this, MS that and a minor thank you to the fantastic pitcrew which gets him out of the pits mere seconds before the challenger. Oh well, what is so difficult in tightening up the screws ??

MS is the seven time World Champion. Now, beat that.

Yes, he has the numbers. I am sure he would win it this year and retire as perhaps the only 8 time Formula 1 world champion for the next zillion years. But then, there is more than just the statistics of Championships that defines a champion in my book. Valentino Rossi is a champion, his winning does not depend on the bike. Lance Armstrong is a champion, he fought against heavy odds both on and off the field. Rahul Dravid is a champion, he doesn't whine everytime he loses. Tom Brady is a champion, he was thrown into the fire and he came out trumps. Gail Devers is a champion, she didn't run behind Vola Patolidou threatening after failing due to a fault of her own. Mika Hakkinen is a champion, he was gracious in victory and defeat. Carl Lewis is a champion, he never cheated. Vishwanathan Anand is a champion, humility is a trait he knows. What Michael Schumacher could ever be is an Eight time winner of the Drivers' Championship in Formula 1 at best. Period.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

A(tta)Gassi

I don't know why I started following you, maybe because you didn't have too many fans in my friends circle in the early 1990s. Maybe because you were the underdog then. Or it was just the hair.

People talk for hours over the aces sent down by the Ivanisevics and Samprases, ask them about your stellar service returns - that whirring forehand flying inches away from the side line or that blistering double-fisted backhand that goes unanswered - and they start talking about last night's mega serial.

Now then, what's with you and five setters ?? Lose one, lose two, come back and win all three. Do you ever get tired of winning five setters ?? It probably gives you thrills, but it makes us lose sleep.

For an entire generation that wasn't old enough to witness the famed Connors-McEnroe rivalry, you gave the Sampras-Agassi upgrade. No one could possibly complain.

When you entered the tennis world, all clad in multi-colored apparel and gold earrings , most of them would have thought that you were one of those showmen who would probably do well in Las Vegas, not on the gruelling tennis courts. You won Grand Slams on all the four courts which many of those famed Wizards could only dream of.

You didn't win the wimbledon like Sampras did.
You are not perfect like Federer.
You never dominated the field like Lendl.
You weren't acrobatic like Becker.
You are not even the greatest tennis player in your own house.

But You made us scream in joy in 92.
You hit gold in 96.
You made us give it back to all those naysayers in 1999.
You gave us that rare moment in 2005.

Agassi. You legend.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Cauliflower Manchurian

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MGRstill rules the "By-pass Buses" segment. What are the odds of you having to watch "Ulagam Sutrum Vaaliban" (Travelling Youth - Ashokan as Evil Scientist and RS Manohar as Head Henchman With Scar On Left Cheek), "Engal Thangam" (Our Gold - Ashokan as Evil Landlord and RS Manohar as Head Henchman With Scar On Right Cheek) and Rickshawkaran("Rickshaw Driver" - Ashokan as Evil Businessman and RS Manohar as Head Henchman With Scar On One Of Them Cheeks ) on three different buses successively ??

In Rickshawkaran, Manjula is handed down a severe punishment by her principal, is forced to appear before the college management committee and is almost thrown out of college - all because there is a picture of her and her boyfriend (MGR) taken in a beach and this has brought disrepute to the college. I recommend this principal be transferred to DPS, Delhi.

Sleeping with your cheek on the glass window in a crowded bus - Good.
Waking up in the middle of the night and be able to read the lettering on a tanker lorry carrying fuel that is inches away - Bad.
By-pass riders do not just by-pass the inner roads, they by-pass your next 40+ years on Earth.

It took me 45 minutes to guess the name of the river that runs through a town called KaveriPattanam. A clear sign of age catching up with me.

Thiruvalluvar, Pisirandhayar, Avvaiyar, Ilangovadigal and their likes would do good to stay where they are and control their urge to visit their native land. How would you feel if an old uncle you hated kept mistaking you for your aunt because you look like her when she was young ?? If the answer is anywhere in the vicinity of "disappointed", try remembering that ல is not ள. And ள is most definitely not ழ். Same goes for the ன, ண and ந family too. The state of ர் and ற isn't far behind either. These are _not_ interchangeable even if they sound similar, just like you and your aunt are not because you look similar. No. Why don't we all just continue our stellar job at destroying the written english language with our "hv"s, "2morrow"s and "4 me"s and let Thamizh die it's natural death ?? தமிழுக்கு வன்தனை செய்யாவிடினும், நின்தனை செய்யாதிருத்தல் நலம்.
ps: Any error is attributed to the style sheet and the style sheet only.

A rare celestial event went unnoticed on sunday. I managed to cross the (in)famous Bommanahalli traffic crossing without having to rest both of my feet on the ground once (And yes, smart aleck, I was riding a two wheeler). Can you believe that ?? The Bommanahalli circle without vechicles ?? The Bommanahalli circle, which is the Bermuda Triangle of Bangalore where just about every running vehicle gets sucked into, empty of them ?? Miracles do happen when you least expect them. All you people who work (or worked) in Electronic City or Garvebhavipalya are either shedding copious tears of joy / holding the hand of the person next to you and leaning on their shoulder with a glint of hope in your eyes / lighting candles with a big smile like in the airtel ad / other generic inspirational gestures. Wake up, It's not going to happen again in the next million years.

Thamizhnadu has its share of funny sounding towns. Take for example Vaadipatti (Come Here Town) and Thaadikombu (Bearded Stick) near Vaadipatti. That isn't all. There is a town called Gobi (Cauliflower in Hindi) near Erode. Nope, it's not over, on the way to Gobi, I see this town called OthaKudhirai (Lonely Horse) near Gobi. Before I could go "Eh, what ??", I cross this next town called KavundhaBaadi (Upturned Body ??). I decided not to pursue it further.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Terra Farming

"Doctor, care to explain ??" asked the stern voice of Lord Cas Te of The Board, looking at my design of the new Self Destructors (Models 22X and 22Y ).

I took a deep breath and looked at the models. Extremely supple dipods with a capacity to expand exponentially under short notice. Ergonomically designed for maximum productivity. I couldn't find a flaw. But Lord Cas had a point. He was still miffed at my failure last time. But let us just wait a second and look at you. You, the reader, blinking like a captain caught in a radio-active ionic storm with a cargo of nano-atoms. You people from the past, so primitive. Let me jog you back a few millenia and refresh your memory.

The Board. A body containing the most powerful men in the planet. A group of individuals who have made life possible after the population implosion of the 860's. A group that had turned around the fortunes of this planet when almost everyone else had given up or just died.

With the teeming millions literally trampling on each other, it was The Board that came up with an intuitive solution. Terra Farming. Considering the infinite size of the universe and the invention of economical space travel, Terra Farming was expected to address the expansion problems. Once the survey vehicles find planets that are big enough to accomodate substantial portions of colonies, the job of the Cleansers would be to find a way to make the planet inhabitable. While a majority of the Cleansers community developed solutions that left the planet wholly uninhabitable after Cleansing, I came up with a solution that swept the industry by storm. Self-Destructors. Or SDs as everyone else started calling them. The process was fairly simple. Understand the terrain. Design an SD. Deploy it. Wait for inhabitational levels on the planet. Let the SDs self destruct. Voila, A whole, fresh planet ready for colonising without any of the harmful biological agents that left behind. With my innovativeness and resourcefulness, The Board was able to reap planet after planet and establish settlements. Until now.

Recently, The Board's survey vehicles that scan the outer rim of the galaxy had found a planet large enough to handle the population explosion for the next million years. I had jumped at the opportunity, but only to fail. Terra Incognito was entirely uninhabitable, but it didn't pose problems of radioactive gases like Deepstar IV or an excessively salty atmosphere like Abyss XL. It was just filled with waste. Tonnes of it. On it. Inside it. Around it. It seemed to be a fairly docile planet which prompted me to design the Quadropod model of SDs (Models JP1 to JP9) which were best suited for this. The solution was straight forward. The Quadropds would clear the planet of the huge quantities of waste by eating it (bravo, bravo) and then self-destruct (hear, hear). Only, not.

"Certainly, My Lordships. At the stroke of dawn, we are going to deploy our two models into Terra Incognito. These models are programmed to consume just about anything and everything Terra Incognito has to offer. I had equipped them with the usual CG chips that worked for us in the planet of Oceanus. As you all know these chips would find and create new needs for the models to devour just about every kind of geological waste that the planet has. This would complete Mission I of our Cleansing, making Terra Incognito inhabitable for our people by clearing out the planet's debris on, around and inside of it."

"The last time you made models that looked visibly different from each other, so that they would fight for supremacy and self-destruct after the Cleansing is done. After deployment, the models became friendly despite all your assurances that they would finish each other off. It took some nano-missiles for The Board and some gimmicking by you to clear that mess up. This time, you show me just two models with absolutely minimal difference that we can't distinguish one from the other and you expect them to finish each other off ??"

Ah, my moment of triumph comes now. It is always a pleasure to be asked to show your genius on demand like an art gallery rather than just displaying it for everyone to see like an street magician.

"Gentlemen, I present to you, RG I. I am going to add RG I into the genetic structure of both these mdoels. Once fully developed, RG I would exhibit traits of aggression and irrationality that would finish them off without any external intervention"

"The JP models had a very small brain which you said would make them terribly slow to think and decide, not know right from wrong and hence become extinct. As far as I remember it didn't work at all. This time you have given them almost 100 times as much brain power as before. Don't you think these models would be sentient enough to avoid such an aggresive gene and develop an antibody against it ??", asked Lord T Eror Ism.

A second chance to prove my worth. Keep them coming, you all. I am loving this.

"That is where you are all going to appreciate my touch. RG I is not a gene sequence that exhibits mindless violence and insensibility at the outset. It in fact is designed to exhibit the exact opposite. RG I would invoke the senses of oneness and camaraderie as a smokescreen and indirectly touch the genes of deep hatred and hypocrisy. It would entwine with the SDs so much that they would protect it overzealously. The SDs would never know that they were all capable of such deeds and it would all be done before they even knew it. Once the planet is cleared of all wastes, we can remotely enable the RG I gene in the body and the SDs would be reduced to destroying themselves, all the while considering them as sentient beings with higher levels of responsibility."

"Doctor, do you think it would work ??"

"Believe me my Lords when I say this. This model can be extremely resilient. But I don't think it can beat RG I. Not now. Not in a million years. Not ever."

"Splendid Doctor. Splendid. I have to say The Board is impressed at your craft. We just have a small question. We all know your hyper successful CG chips were named after your great-grandmother Cons Umer Ism. What is with the unusual name for this gene ??"

"Nothing much, your Lordships. Just a mask of respect to my great-grand father, the late Re Li Gion".

The standing ovation and the applause continued till I left the great hall.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

This Just In

Hotel barons the world over are huddled together to fight this new phenomenon at their hotels which lacks any kind of sophisitication and that suave 'thing' but somehow manages to sneak in, courtesy his corporate sponsor.

Sorry brother, We are here and here to stay.

Receptionists at said hotel recoil at the mention of said phenomenon which carries assorted eatable items (viz. Cold Coffee, Banana Cake) in a transparent plastic cover when they are readily available in the same room.

With a price tag that would buy the kauravas and their extended family dinner for a single day, if I may add.


Porters at said hotel are perplexed by the phenomenon who has seemingly forgotten the art of generous tipping.

I carry my own luggage, is that so difficult to understand ??

Room servicemen are rooted to their feet about how this phenomenon manages to stay away from anything and everything that has a charge in the room, but always manages to finish the complimentary water bottles.

The watch word here is "complimentary"

Workmen at the Kortumalai Pillayar Restaurant are wondering at how this phenomenon walks more than a kilo meter for dinner when said hotel has not one, not two but five restaurants.

Onion uthappam with two chutneys and regular sambar. Even ten kilo metres wouldn't stand a chance.

Anthropologists world over are astounded at discovering that watching an episode of "Metti Oli" all alone on a sunday afternoon in a foreign land on a 42" plasma TV isn't the worst form of torture.

Actually, it has been updated to watching two back-to-back episodes.

Fashion gurus are flabbergasted at this new style of power dressing which includes a semi-formal shoe, a formal pant and a round neck t-shirt.

Trust me, I thought the laundry price tag was some jewellery advertisement

Wall street is worried at the sudden increase in demand for cabbage and appalam from South East Asia.

When everything on the menu involves something bovine or poultry or some squishy looking thing that gives you nightmares, what do you expect ??

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Lightning Strikes Twice

Dear Mr. Murphy,

Hope you doing well. In fact, am positive you are doing well. Because I am not. Where do I start ?? Maybe with the fact that you plotted the receipt of my invitation letter on a Friday afternoon ?? Yes, that meant I can get it across to the travel desk only on monday.

On monday, you ensured that I looked my worst (ah, just a figure of speech. my last "looking best" was in 1980 when I was taken to a studio for a portrait). You also ensured that there was a crazy rule in the embassy which required me to have a visa picture with a white background - which means that I cannot use my standard, digitally-enhanced, homo-sapien look-alike photo that I usually give. You strategically increase the temperature that day to ensure that there are no significant differences between my face and a kuwaiti oil well. You make me lazy enough not to shave, but active enough to pick up the reddest shirt that mankind has ever designed. The staff at the embassy would have been wondering if this was a request to "donate generously for my cardiovascular operation on my left toe" or "to intimate all nearby police stations on sight and stay a few hundred metres away at all costs".

You delay the visa by a day quoting "late receipt". You delay it by another day quoting "high inflow". You delay it for yet another day quoting "in transit". Just when I was about to use that as an excuse, you send it across to me in pristine condition, guess when, on a friday evening - yes, after elvis had left the building. You make the travel desk folks set a time of 11am on saturday to receive the passport. You make me decide in favor of staying back at office over night instead of having to make two trips to office. You make the travel desk folks give me my passport after four excruciating hours of wait where I almost ate a biscuit packet including the cover. Just as I collect all my documents and head out you tap me on my back and say four letters. E. C. N. R. I hear three more words. B.A.M. I also uttered a four letter word which rhymes closely with duck.

Hungrier than King Kong, I lug my bag around and walk out and you throw open the water taps of heaven. When I dare to take it head on, you open it up even further. I give up and run back into office. You slow it down because the fun is just about starting. I fall for it and you catch me at a traffic signal where the wait time is 130 seconds. This time, you just open up all the valves. I go home wet wanting to get some work done and you chuckle at me saying I left the power cord at work. I remind of you the battery and you remind me that I drained it already at work, thanks to my laziness to bend down and fix the loose plug.

I still have monday to get my ECNR. You still have time to suddenly declare a national holiday and close out the passport office for a week. I am not carrying any formal wear. You can suddenly make it a country wide practice there. My laptop is slightly older, you can safely crash the hard disk. I would be going out in the open today, you can throw down a lightning and finish it off once for all. Ah, you wouldn't do that, would you ?? Who would kill their favorite poster boy ??

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

English Tuitions

Practical Joke : noun - A mischievous trick played on a person, especially one that causes the victim to experience embarrassment, indignity, or discomfort.

is what the Bartender did when we begged him to change the music played from a mind-numbing trance number to something else. He promptly changed to "Jhalak Dhiklaaja" remix by Himmesh Reshmaiyya. Thanks to Beckham, Baawa and Rumkumar (sic), I escaped Death by Dismal Music.

Doomsday : noun - Judgment Day.

would be the day when orkut, a social networking site where single wo/men find themselves "kewl, hawt or bindaas" and want to "make fraandship" because the person is question has a "beautiful name and face", is banned at work. A walk down the aisle for coffee and all I can see is multitudes of screens showing the same bluish background of orkut with pictures of people taken in standard set pieces (Statue of Liberty, Snow in New Jersey, Times Square, ) with standard hobbies (read books, watch movies, listen to music) and standard testimonials (cho chweet, great guy, best buddy).

Perennial : adjective - Lasting an indefinitely long time

Underperformers and the next word that comes to your mind is the Spanish Football team. True to their billing, they lost their match to a french team that wouldn't be out of place in a charity veteran's tournament. With Torres, Villa and Xabi, they can only go higher. All this makes the job easier for overhyped Brazil (Yes, you read it right. Over Hyped). Germany, with 11 players on a field and few thousands off it, would scrape through Argentina making it even easier for Brazil. England would beat a Deco/Cristiano/Costinha-less Portugal with a clumsy Crouch header in the dying minutes, again helping out brazil. Italy would feign yet another dive and win against Ukraine while Brazil would kick the crap out of France as a revenge for 98. Germany would peak against Italy while Brazil would whizz past England. By the time of the final, Germany would have lost steam and a lacklustre Brazil would win again. Half of the world will go "I told you so" and we will get back to our daily lives. Duh.

Heartburn : noun - A burning sensation, usually centered in the middle of the chest near the sternum, caused by the reflux of acidic stomach fluids that enter the lower end of the esophagus. Also called acid reflux, cardialgia, pyrosis.

is slightly similar in sensation to the pain that anxious parents go through after watching this new songathon from the increasingly innovative Sun Music. As some hopeless song blares in the background, the foreground is alive with SMS messages, 10 out of 20 are a "I luv uuuuuu soooooooo much Sindhu/Pooja/Ilavarasi/" with the other 10 being "miss u 2 Dhanasekar/Ravikumar/Senthil Murugan". Mind you, nothing against people in love or PDA, but an error-ridden SMS on a braindead program on an also-ran television channel ?? Sun TeeVee, I bow to thee.

Tactless : adj - Lacking or exhibiting a lack of tact; bluntly inconsiderate or indiscreet.

are those Interior Decorators at Westside Garuda Mall who put the Women's Lingerie section right outside the trial room. Stand there and get burnt by fiery glares from other women. Move out feeling odd and fail to nod your head when the missus comes out wearing her new stock looking for your approval, and get burnt by the woman. Darned if you do, Darned if you don't.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Home, Home Again

Dhoni takes over from Sachin, Aishwarya, Aamir and Shahrukh and sells almost everything, including Mysore Sandal Soap.

The centuries-old plan of going straight and taking a left/right at the upcoming sharkal (circle, for people who are weak in english) is the best way to get from Point A to Point B. No mapquest, no google maps and no GPS.

The success or failure of your trip depends on the number of chocolates you bring from the US.

There is a laughing club in my complex with members older than independent India. I am not sure if its a good idea to hold their daily classes adjacent to the jogging track where people of different dimensions huff and puff their way to fat reduction. I dread the day I am going to join them.

Traffic still seems to be a game of mutual trust where a honk could mean anywhere between "you trying to fit in your monster tempo into that miniscule space between me and and the other biker ?? get a life, you evil-minded tempo-driver" to "groan".

A scene from yesterday's "Thaga Thaga Thaga Thaga Thanga Vettai"
A disproportionate Ramya Krishnan: "The pandavas were how many in number ??"
Kid with big, uneasy smile who would sing 'Kalyanandhan Katikkitu odi polama' without missing a beat: (looks at the ceiling for divine intervention)
ADRK: "Who was the king who vowed that he would never lie ??"
Another KWBUSWWSKKOPWMAB: (this one has a change of tactics and looks at the flooring now, again looking for divine intervention)
The future is bright. Its exploding right in front of our eyes into smithereens.

That lady from Koothupattarai still gets roles where she cries over the death/accident/arrest/other social calamity of her son/daughter. Her impressive track record contains glycerine-guzzling roles from Muthalvan (as Arjun's mom who floods the streets when the house is demolished), Ramana (as the mother of Unidentified Detainee and his High School going Sister) and Sudeshi (as mother of young school boy who gets killed by atrocious school teacher and his high maintenance wife). Forgetting how to laugh is an occupational hazard in her line of work.

Its great to go home and have piping hot food ready to be served. No more soul-searching questions of what to cook today so that it would hold up till day after tomorrow. No more fear of gruesome death by food poisoning.

The flyover connecting double road and richmond road still holds the record for being the only flyover in the world which has a makeshift traffic signal (a wiry cop running between buses with a stop sign in one hand and his life in the other). The flyover in Bannerghatta road beats Sudoku for a challenging puzzle. In a twist of fate, the airport road flyover looks to take more time to be operational than the completeion of the new international airport. Welcome to Bangalore where a flyover is a subtle hint for you to actually try and fly over.

I played a small game of wink-wink-grin-grin with a 3 year old kid in my apartment complex. I also did kichu-kichu in the dimples of that kid. All this without the fear of being reported to the police.

Its not essentially a bad thing to come back from the US without having any concrete plans of going back again. Really.

The number of people who realise that going to the US has absolutely nothing to do with individual talent or excellence goes up by atleast 1.

JP Nagar perumal kovil puliyodarai rocks. Sue me for being corny.

"Dent."
"Ah, Yes Truman"
"Do you know the story of a young prince by the name Rama who left his home for 14 years ??"
"Ah, yes"
"He came back after building the first trans-oceanic bridge known to man, fought a great warrior and finally flew back in a chariot tugged by swans"
"Ah, yeah"
"You, on the other hand left home for just 14 months and all that you did was to eat junk food, download megabytes of songs, watch NFL and finally flew back in economy class"
"Ah, yes."
"Does that put things in perspective ??"
"Yes. So ..."
"So, shut up".

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Heed The Omen

"Also it causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell who does not have the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of his name. This calls for wisdom: let anyone with the understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a person. Its number is six hundred and sixty-six."

- Revelation 13:16-18

"Woe to you, Oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath, because he knows the time is short. Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the
beast for it is a human number, its number is Six hundred and sixty six."

- Iron Maiden, "Number of The Beast"

When the Jews return to Zion
And a comet rips the sky
And the Holy Roman Empire rises,
Then You and I must die.
From the eternal sea he rises,
Creating armies on either shore,
Turning man against his brother
Til man exists no more.

- Father Brennan, "The Omen" [1976]

"The beast shalt unfurl an array of acts resulting in mind-numbing boredom for all and sundry. It shalt annoy people all around him one at a time. It shalt unleash unspeakable acts of vexation. It shalt make people question the meaning of their lives. Earth hath not seen such pain before nor shalt it see if aft. At midnight, on the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year of the new millenium, It shall descend from the sky.".

- The Book of Imbeciles Rubicond 1:4

"Is it true ??"
"Yes."
"Is he coming ??"
"Yes."
"Thank God".

- Two unsuspecting parents in an apartment in The City of Boiled Beans.

"Lufthansa Flight #754 from Frankfurt is on time and expected to arrive shortly"

- PA Announcement, Airport of aforesaid city 5th June 2006, 11:50pm

Heed the omen. You have been warned.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

(Aradha)Pazhaya Pettai - Archaic Dominion

Dearest Selvaraghavan,

Thanks for offering to listen to my questions about your newest trendsetter "Pudhupettai". Its not even 30 minutes since I came out of the theater and I am still spellbound. I just don't have any words to describe it. Or wait, maybe I have one. Just one. I don't know if it would do justice to your achievement, but let me try. One word. Feces.

How do you manage to make movie after movie with the exact same template ?? Let me explain. All your movies open with a song where the hero or a lead character indulges in acts you wouldn't want your own son to indulge in, later you somehow manage to defend all his outrageous acts by squarely blaming a) his parents b) his friends or c) the society at large. Then, you bring in a lead lady who just sneezes a few times and the guy who was Idi Amin till yesterday is transformed into Oscar Schindler. Do you actually know there are *other* ways to write a movie ?? How about a realistic movie about a granny, a crow and a urad dal cake for starters ??

You copied the assasination sequence from Coppola. You copied the one-screen-multiple-pane technique from De Palma. You copied the court room scene, again, from Ford Coppola. You copied the black-and-white-sequences-with-blood-being-the-only-color from Rodriguez. You copied the hero-slays-an-army-of-assasins from Tarantino. You copied the end-credits-says-fate-of-everyone technique from Lucas. Don't you have any shame ?? I agree, a person who made movies like "7G Rainbow Colony" cannot afford to have a quality like that, but I ask again, Don't you have any shame ??

We understand you love your brother, so much so that you cast him in the role of a fearless Don. But what we fail too understand is how you could possibly approve a scene where the Don is wearing only a cut banian when the Don under question has a physique that would put Vadivel of yesteryears to shame ?? I agree, physical prowess has nothing to do with being a Don, I have known a few in Madurai. But dhanush ??

Do you really believe using swear words that are beeped out make your movie into a "realistic and hard-hitting" movie ?? For the record, No. They do not. The only thing that it helps is to offer us newer ways of releiving our frustration after the movie is over.

This post is not organised. It is heavily cluttered and is a pain to read. It has absolutely no sense of order and ends up gibbering arbitrary amount of data as it feels fit. This post is so disjoint that it challenges the intelligence of someone who does not register a valid value in the IQ meter. Precisely. I am glad you and I have the same opinion about each other's works.

A hero does not have to shout the roof down to prove his point. A mere look would just do. Ask your brother to check with his father-in-law.

Yes, love is blind. We all agree. But when your girl friend can't act for nuts, you should stop with making some home-made movies for her birthday and leave it at that.

There was a couple in the theatre who earn in dollars, but are stingy enough not to afford to a baby sitter and brought their young kid inside the theatre and spoilt the movie for us, them, the kid and the rest of the audience. Yes, it would be difficult to believe that someone can spoil this movie further, but you just have my word for it.

You cannot make a convincing gangster movie, you are not Ram Gopal Verma. You cannot make genuinely funny faux-pas sequences, you are not Mani Rathnam. You cannot make a mass entertainer, you are not Dharani. You cannot innovatively picturise songs, you are not Shankar. You cannot make a movie that will make us think about things that we never thought about, you are not Kamal. Your heroes do not elicit even a shade of sympathy from any self-respecting human being, you are not Bala. You cannot have violence in your movie and make it non-gratituous, you are not Spielberg. You cannot make a movie that will hold the audience for 3 hours, you are not Peter Jackson. What are you exactly ??

Point to ponder: There is a consesus that you are over-rated. But after this movie, where all the good sequences are shamelessly lifted from other works, do you even deserve a rating at all ??

After 3 hours of non-stop nonsense, you cram in heavy messages within 5 minutes and expect us all to wipe our tears and give you a standing ovation. Such films are called "News Reels" which run *before* the main feature starts. I see a promising career for you there.

The climax. A fitting finale to the 180 minutes of pain we endured.

You get Kamal to sing an awesome song. You cut it in half. You get the good looking sneha to do a role, and you give her poor screen time. You get the flavor-of-the-day Yuvan Shankar to do the musical score and you just spew like it confetti all over the movie. You claim to sculpt a movie for two years and you give us this. Dont get me wrong, I am not saying "You disappointed us Selva". You never promised anything with your previous trash. But for all the talk about reconstructing Thamizh movies, your way of making movies are no different from your dad's - stereotypical and hopelessly boring.

I paid $10 for this trash. Do you know how hard a middle-aged man has to work to make two ends meet ?? I need a refund. I will also agree for a settlement if you promise to make no more movies. After all, What is $10 when it comes to saving your bretheren ??

And yes, The theatre didn't have hand towels. You are probably not directly responsible for that, but I am in such a mood today that I could even hold you responsible for The Big Bang.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

No More Anagrams

Jean Reno : I am sure most of you, on encountering a hot-headed french inspector in the book, decided that it had to be Jean Reno. Even Ronnie Howard told me he wrote the character of Bezu Fache with me in mind. That's why I tried to bring the much-hated Bezu Fache alive on screen right from the word "Go". Half-way through the movie, you would see me scratching my chin at regular intervals trying to find the whereabouts of Langdon. Nope, I was actually wondering how I said okay to this role. Towards the end, I am as glad you are that it is all over.

Paul Bettany : Now, accept it. For a second, you would end up wondering if it is Silas playing himself in the opening sequence. I, with my naturally gifted complexion that the role demands, fit in neatly with my torture instruments (or instruments of chastening, you prude). I even held the movie together with my cold depiction of the murderous-yet-pious Silas. Just when you think Ron had nailed this one, I got reminded of that brilliant scene from a south indian movie called "Nayagan". Don't believe me ?? See it for yourself. But don't laugh out loud. It is meant to be a serious scene.

Sir Ian Mckellen : Gandalf. Magneto. And now I am slated to play an eccentric british bounty hunter. The possibilities are endless. And so they look when I make my entry. But then, as a rule, every character in this movie should spin around himself/herself and drive all the viewers crazy. Didn't I just do that ??

Hans Zimmer : For all the fans out there who thought Leigh Teabing was the biggest villain of the movie, think again. My music, which is supposed to breathe life into a movie, sucks whatever life remains from this half-dead script. Come on, you can't all be so theatrical. Now does the music really have to reach a crescendo when some major turning point occurs ?? All thats passe. Be it Robert and Sophie running for dear life in London, or Langdon breaking the secret to Sophie towards the end, or Silas lurking around Chateville - I have some jaw-dropping music for the occasion - good, old, plain elevator music.

Akiva Goldsman: Now listen, I agree that the screenplay was insipid. What were you expecting ?? Indiana Jones ?? I see you are bugged with the way half the movie runs on subtitles. Hey, the movie happens in France, okay ?? I also understand you are pissed with some absolutely ridiculous dialogues, but come on, this is a pop corn thriller. What ?? You are now irritated with the fact that there was little or no action in the movie that was there in the book ?? Oh give me a break, this is a contemporary thriller. They are meant to be like that. You thought the book was far better ?? Hey, I am not Spielberg to make a monster movie out of an above-average novel. But then, dont suspect my credentials okay. I have "A Time to Kill" and "A Beautiful Mind" to my credit. You all think this is a surefire winner then. You are sure nothing can go wrong with the screen play. After watcing the movie and looking up my filmography, you see that I also have "I, Robot" and "Batman & Robin" to my credits. Fooled you, hehehe.

Ron Howard: I want to make an action movie like "Backdraft". No, no, I want to make a thriller movie like "Ransom". Nah, I want to make a movie with strong characters like "Apollo 13". Or maybe, I will just make a nice documentary. Or wait a second, I have Tom Hanks' dates. Brian Grazer got me the rights for "The Da Vinci Code". I have never been to the Louvre. The wife wants to buy something from Harrod's. Maybe I can finish all the above and get a paycheck from Sony ?? What I lost with a below-par script, I will make it up with some fascinating CGI superimposing flashback sequences into present day. I will also get some grainy look which would make it look more authentic. Utterly inappropriate did you say ?? Hey, its not my money. Its Sony's. Man, Now, That's what I call a brainwave.

Audrey Tautou: I am cute. I am gorgeous. I am 22 and I am french. And just when you brace yourself for one thing that went right in the movie, I start acting. Or, I start trying to act. In an attempt to get an authentic french actress to play the role, they picked me. What they forgot to remember was my english accent was also authentically french. Sometimes when I speak, the audience were left wondering why there were no subtitles for me when all the other french-speaking parts had them. Bozo, that was me talking in English. Now tell me, did I do justice to the role or not ?? In particular, the scene where I show all my anguish and sorrow and despair at my grandfather's killer. Did you hear Oscar bells ringing or was that you insensitive freaks guffawing ??

Tom Hanks : Folks, I am a simpleton called Forrest Gump. I am a humane jail warden called Paul Edgecomb. I am a relentless cop called Carl Hanratty. I am a cold-hearted-killer/loving-father called Michael Sullivan. I am a hotshot cowboy called Woody. I am not NOT a Harvard Symbologist called Robert Langdon. I repeat, I am NOT. Robert Langdon is Harrison Ford in a tweed suit. Russell Crowe can be HF in a TS. Hugh Jackman can be HF in a TS. John Cusack be a HF in a TS. I can be a middle-aged man who said okay to an interesting thriller and lost the plot half-way through and phoned-in my performance.

Dan Brown: Hey guys, I got something interesting
The Ensemble (in chorus): What ??
Dan Brown: The title for this blog. It's an anagram about the movie.
The Ensemble(in chorus): And what is that ??
Dan Brown: O Man, Maga Snorer.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Good Samaritan

Battle Ship "Death Star". 43 Light Years from Ganymede

Palpatine was happy. Extremely happy. This was the best moment in his professional career and he was thoroughly enjoying every moment of it. He had planned for this since the last two millenia and today was the day he was going to reap the benefits of that. Once he goes back home, he will become Supreme Chancellor of Titania and the whole planet will sway to his will. Heck, if he was lucky, the Queen would even marry him and he could even become The High Emperor.

The Queen. That reminded him.
"Commander Palpatine to Control Room. How long do you need ??", he bellowed on the two-way receiver.
"Commander, we are 234 aeons away from the planet. We should reach the rendezvous point in Zee minus 45 tritiums", responded Ewok, Palpatine's Captain, man-servant, ego-vent, plaything, all-in-one.
"Fine don't stand there then. Get moving and Make sure you call me before you enter the Zone. I need to do the honors myself", said Palpatine.
"We understand Commander. Hail", replied Ewok.
"You better", said Palpatine to himself. The moment he activates the Fazer Cannons on the Nest would be his crowning glory. Palpatine sipped his drink and eased into his chair and thought about the events of the past. How he met with his destiny. How he could become Supreme Chancellor.

Titania. A planet inhabited by Terogons, a race superior to almost every other race in the galaxy, ruled for eternity by Jabba, The Queen Chosen. It was when Palpatine was captain at the Enforcement that Jabba became Queen and he immediately realised that she was the key to his dreams of world domination. Jabba was young, restless, ambitious and, most importantly, dull which suited Palpatine's plan just fine. She just needed a trigger. Palpatine gave her a vision. A colony of planets centrally ruled by Titania with Jabba as the Queen Chosen for the entire Galaxy. The rest was entirely easy. The Terogons, until then a peace-loving working class of species, were transformed in to a war-hungry parasite species moving from planet to planet in conquest.

Palpatine remembered the early days when he and the Queen made public their desire of world domination and colonialisation. The naturally-pacifist Counsels of The Queen were all up in arms and the movement of peaceful protests was carefully spreading among the worker-terogons. Something had to be done before it got out of hand. Some were bought out. Some were "politely" requested to retire. Most of them just disappeared. Palpatine suppressed a chuckle at how easily he handled it. Now, the entire chamber of The Counsels was his to obey. It had been a bloody path that Palpatine had walked to get to where he is, but at the end of it, there was a decorated Throne, and if it meant more blood, Palpatine didn't care much.

The first Hunt proved to be a bit challenging, but after a few routine operations, it had become so easy and safe. The Modus Operandi for each hunt was similar. Jabba and Palpatine decide on the planet to annex. Once that is done, a scout was sent deep into the planet to safely hide The Capsules in subterranean vantage positions. The Capsules contains life fragments of warrior-terrogons, a special breed created by Jabba and Palpatine out of worker-terragons. The Capsules themselves mature in a few millenia, but for fully grown warrior-terrogons to be formed, they need to be fed with the Queen's life source for a while. The Queen was initially reluctant since a prolonged absense of millenia would destroy Titania's monarchy, what with the democrats voicing out for a people-led government. Palpatine had a way around that too. He invented The Nest. The Nest is a miniature palace for the Queen that would be hidden in a place strategically advantageous to the invasion. 60 years before the invasion, a second scout would hide The Nest in the planet and The Queen would start feeding The Capsules. The only catch was to hide it in a place rich in clean liquids. The Queen would have to live on clean liquids to rejuvenate herself after the tiresome job of feeding life source into millions of warrior-terragons. Once the process was complete, Palpatine and his minions would travel down to the planet in their battleship and use the Fazer Cannons to unlock The Nest. That in turn would trigger the millions of capsules hidden in the planet and unleash the warrior-terragons. In short, it would unleash hell. No planet was able to withstand the onslaught for more than few hours.

"Control Room to Commander. Sir, we have visual"
"Good. Keep steady. I will be down there in a minute".

Drumming his fingers on the deck impatiently, Palpatine asked, "Captain, are we there yet ?? We seem to be going around in circles".
"My apologies Commander. But this seems to be area recorded in the Co-ordinate Seeker. It is a perfect match" replied Ewok.
"This place ?? Are you telling me this is where I hid The Nest ?? I told you I hid it under a lake. A crystal clear lake. Not under some dirty sewer. Your console must have been jammed. Try again"
"Err, commander, I verified the location with our master database and it undoubtedly says that this is indeed the place".
Palpatine felt a drop of sweat behind his neck. Did he actually record the wrong co-ordinates ?? This is not some hidden treasure he is searching. He is searching for The Nest. The Queen.
"Give me manual controls", bellowed Palpatine.

After hours of trying all that Palpatine could see in this place was this big sewer and no signs of a lake. Was he just plain lost ?? Panic was setting in slowly. There was absolutely no way that Palpatine could have hid the nest here. This whole place just stank more than all the dirt planets he had ever roamed. This just cannot be the place. Trembling, Palpatine invoked the Manual Track button which would home in on the Nest's Geo-synchronous system. Blimp. Blimp-blimp. Blimp-blimp. Palpatine lifted his head to look at the screen. The Nest was responding. But, the response was very poor. It almost seemed like The Nest was fading out. Dying, in fact.

It dawned on Palpatine in an instance. The Sewer. The Sewer did this. The Queen was replenishing her thirst with The Sewer instead of the clear water that Palpatine thought it was there. Had he been fooled ?? Had his eyes played tricks and made it look like clear water ?? Was it God's Hand that did this to him ?? Palpatine decided to give it his final shot. Blast The Nest with the Fazer Cannons and resurrect The Queen. He aimed hard at the location where the blimp originated and fired. Nothing. He fired again. Nothing. And then, the realisation came to him. The razor-sharp rays of the Fazer Cannons were not able to penetrate the thick viscous liquid that lay in the Sewer. Palpatine turned to look at the terminal and right at the instance, the blimp died. The Nest was destroyed. All connected capsulses would self-destruct in mere seconds. Most importantly, The Queen was dead. For the first time, Palpatine had lost.

No, maybe he hadn't. Maybe this was a new beginning. Maybe this was his short cut to becoming High Emperor of Titania. There was an opportunity here to be exploited. Palpatine was surprised it didn't strike him earlier. He just to kill Jabba and make it look like an accident. Darn. So many years wasted in hunting planets and playing second fiddle. He regained his composure and screamed at Ewok and his crew, "We lost the queen. It is some internal sabotage that will be uncovered. As Commander of The Enforcer and Interim High Emperor of Titania .... Hey Ewok, I am talking to you. Where are you looking at ??".

Ewok smiled. "Sir, I have some news for you. The peaceful protesters led by Sir Luke have overthrown The Empire. Titania is no more a kingdom. It is a democratic"

Palpatine didn't see this coming. He knew he had to make a move and now was a good time as any. "Oh well, then, let me retire to my room. I am taking the shuttle out for a reconnaisance mission"

Ewok smiled bigger this time. "Sir, you should do nothing of that kind. You shall retire to your quarters, stay there and await further orders. You have been demoted Commander, and if may add, under arrest for treason. Your end would be a new beginning for Titania's peaceful reign".

Palpatine bit his lip in anger. "Who do you think you are ??", he asked.
Ewok almost laughed, "The New Supreme Commander of The Enforcement.


Earth, 0400 Hrs
"Dude, is this place safe ??"
"Yeah yeah. Go on"
"I mean, no crocodiles or other dangerous creatures around, right ??"
"Any life form that comes to touching distance of this place will die. Can't you see that ??"
"Dude, errrr, is this okay ??"
"Is what okay ??"
"You know, defacing a public place. Aren't we some kind of public nuisance ??"
"Dude, look around. Can you make this place any dirtier" ??
"Yeah .. but still .... you know, my grandmother tells me this place was a fresh water lake many years ago"
"So what ?? Listen, You and I are not the only ones to do this. Everyone does this, okay ?? And just because we do it once, it is not the end of the world. Now stop talking, turn to the other side and do your thing. I cant take a peaceful dump while talking and you know that. Just get on with it and lets get out. Darned place stinks to hell. Ughghgh."

The Cooum silently sighed at the teeming millions of thankless jerks, saving their very same lives yet another time.


Credits
========
George Lucas
H G Wells

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...