Attention

Having a TV at home without a sat-tv connection can cause quite number of things, one of which is watching old thamizh movies on DVDs. But when it gets to watching the 34th re-run of "Kaaki Chattai", it can become a serious disorder. One by-product of this masochistic exercise is fodder for the blog. Well done. Read on to find _my_ Top 10 Cop movies.

10. The Fugitive

A classic cop-chases-hero-chases-mysterious-murderer movie. Did Tommy Lee Jones deserve an oscar, I do not know. Is Sam Gerrard one of the best badass cops around ?? Hell, yeah. From start to finish, The Fugitive is a pure adrenaline rush. With no heroine to romance around with like other fugitive-on-the-run movies, Andrew Davis gives us one of his better movies. Just don't see the sequel and the thamizh remake (party party party orankattu, paadu singaari duettu) and you will be just fine.



9. Die Hard

Can there be a cop-movie list without the greatest underdog cop of all time ?? Can you beat "I have a gun. ho-ho-ho", in a movie-one-liner showdown ? Can you give the legendary John McClane a miss and still expect people to respect this list ? Bruce Wills keeps the costume budget down by wearing just a cut-banian, but runs riot with the props budget by consuming loads of strawberry syrup for blood. I can see a bunch of purists murmuring the second, third and fourth were not as good as the first. Truth be darned, I love 'em all. Yippi-ki-yay, .

8. kaaka kaaka

By far, the second best cop movie made in thamizh, Hands down. Slick camera work, great songs, beautiful heroine, a tight script, an imposing villain and an honest cop. Wow. In the remake versions in other languages, the heroine survives and everyone happily lives ever after. I am glad I saw the poetic thamizh version. Remember the scene with the curtains ? Kind of pokes you in the gut, doesn't it ?

7. Fargo

Can a cop-thriller be made with bumbling criminals, mild humor, barren landscapes and a brutal murders without hostel-like gore ? Yes, say the Coen brothers. They also add emphatically that they have been doing this for a while now. Fargo is a difficult movie for many (me included, until the 3rd time, i think) to appreciate because it is so steeped with the landscape that it represents - Minnesota and Middle America. It is like asking someone who has lived all his life in an apartment near Adyar Boat Club to appreciate Paruthi Veeran. No, can't do. But then, for some others who have lived in the narrow roads of Chinna Chokkikulam and Bibikulam, thats a movie for the ages. Fargo is probably an acquired taste, but a lip-smacking one nevertheless.


6. Sleepy Hollow

If my tim burton/johnny depp bias makes you skip this movie, ignore that for now. Burton breaks a few cop movie formulas. Take for example the lead character's name. In a world where cops have macho names, we have Ichabod Crane. Where cops have their adrenaline charged up on seeing the villain, our hero faints. When cops take a dive into danger, our hero backs off. When cops dare to see blood, our hero conveniently faints again. But then, Crane is resourceful, brave when the situation so demands and will stop at nothing - postmortems included. If that isn't enough, add abundant humor, a true detective storyline and gorgeous cinematography of turn-of-the-century new york. You have yourselves a winner here.

PS: Yes, I know burton didn't give the name to the lead character, it was Washington Irving. Now would be a right time to remember my the burton-depp bias.

5. Silence of The Lambs

A great cop movie with a greater villain. A greater villain matched by a greatly beautiful actress. SoTL is the first true thriller, and perhaps the only cop movie, where I really wanted to take the lead character out for a date (Note the use of past tense in "wanted" before you start off something at home) and No, Vyjayanthi IPS and other Vijayashanthi movies fail in both categories. Many recommend it for watching Anthony Hopkins at his best, but I say watch it for Jodie Foster. Don't believe me ?? Watch the other two Hannibal movies without foster and with hopkins. Now tell me which one you liked best. Foster brought a vulnerability and believability (and some beauty and some gracy and sensuality and that-oomph-without-oomphing) to the character of Clarice Starling which perfectly suits the theme of SoTL. If you have a thing for super-chics, look no further.

4. The Departed

The Burton-Depp bias is second only to the Scorsese-Di Caprio bias. Thats why you see "The Deparated" in this list and not "Infernal Affairs". When will Scorsese stop making movies where you wished to be a career-mobster ? Probably never. A cat and mouse game, shot in the backstreets of Boston, that pits two brilliant actors against each other with an extra-large scope to show blood and scorsese's favorite four-letter word (which he so prosaically uses even in 'The Aviator') with its infinite variations - Giving such a script to Scorsese is like turning the ball over to Tom Brady with 45 seconds to go in the fourth quarter. Don't forget the background score by Dropkick Murphy (I'm shipping upto Boston). That sort of seals the deal.

3. Hot Fuzz

Buddy cop movies are mostly run of the mill. The kind where two cops are best friends, dodge bullets in tandem, have buxom girl friends who are usually the damsels in distress. When you give such formulaic movies to Simon Pegg, he turns them around to classics. What 'Shaun of the dead' did to Zombies, 'Hot Fuzz' does to the buddy cop genre. With a whole load of humor, violence, blood and the usual flying-in-the-air-shooting-with-two-guns trade mark fight scenes, Hot Fuzz is a brilliant satire that deserves its place.

2. Kurudhi Punal

The best ever thamizh cop movie. You would be pardoned if you really thought it was an English/American movie. Such was the effect that it had on the viewing public when it opened. It had a cameraman directing the movie and an actor writing the script - facts you would realize only when someone told you that. Keeping a breathtaking pace from start to end, Kurudhi Punal gives you a power-packed climax which hasn't been seen in thamizh movies often. In a movie industry where vijayakanth, with a truckload of hair and a beer-gut, pretends to be a cop, Kurudhi Punal was/is/and will be one of those trend setters which will always his its own small cult of fanboys.

1. LA Confidential

What makes this movie click ?? Is it James Ellroy ?? No, he has some duds in 'Dark Blue' and 'The Black Dahlia'. Is it probably Brian Helgeland ?? No, can't be. He gave us 'Assassins'. Curtis Hanson, maybe. Nope, he directed '8 Mile'. Can't be him. Kevin Spacey ?? Russell Crowe ?? Guy Pearce ?? Kim Basinger ?? 1950's Hollywood ?? What is that sets LA Confidential right in the top ?? All of it. That sounds like a cop-out, but that's the truth. Everytime I watch a scene from this movie, it makes me think of marching up to those morons in the Academy of Motion Pictures and laugh at them for picking "Titanic" over LA Confidential for best picture. Just Plain Dumb. If you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor and rent a DVD. Then come back here to thank me.

Other Honorable Mentions :

Johnny Brasco, Dirty Harry, Copland, The Untouchables, High Noon - Never seen them from start to finish.

French Connection, Dick Tracy, Training Day, Serpico, Se7en - Dated (IMHO), Wierd - slightly, Hyped, Depressing, You can't kill Gwyneth Paltrow and get away with it.

Narasimma, Raajiyam, Idhudhanda Police, Vallarasu, Walter Vetrivel, Sooriyan, KattaLai - Lack of server space at blogger.com

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

Changing Lanes, Changing Times

Some notes for Claustrophobics entering the Lincoln tunnel. Remember the rule of thumb : Leave the car where it is and run for dear life. Don't trust me ? See what we have for you here : Big-bad-monster-truck-braking-too-often in the front, Big-bad-monster-truck-who-forgot-to-brake in the back, Big-bad-monster-truck-who-wants-to-change-lanes to the right, concrete to the left, river hudson on top and the movie 'Daylight' in mind. Go on. Make your day.



Arunthur never understood the idea behind satellites. You only need to put your hand out of the window to know if it rains or not. And then, someone introduced him to the GPS. To a geographically-disoriented-by-birth Arunthur, that was quite the Excalibur. Until the GPS decided to have a mind of his own. It operated on one guiding principle. Wait till it is too late to enter a lane, then recalculate. Repeat. Getting lost in a straight road is Arunthur's specialty. He doesn't need a GPS and a billion dollar satellite to help him there.

Arunthur used to be this insufferable traffic cop back home. His favorite yells were 'Don't change the lanes', 'Watch the signal', 'Don't honk, its bad manners', 'Always double-check before you park'. In short, he was the long-haired Sakthi Vel in a town full of Mayans. And then, all hell broke loose and the sleeping tyrannosaurus-rex was woken up. Only, everyone in Manhattan thought it was quite normal to do all that and more.

You should see Arunthur drive. Its like watching Da Vinci paint (or watching the paint dry, depending on where you are coming from). The kind of thrill his driving offers is nearly equal to watching an award winning movie with subtitles on a sunday afternoon. And then, Arunthur got stuck right in the middle of the road when the signal went red. A big board which said "fine + 2 points for blocking the box" and honking taxis coming from straight ahead like greyhounds. "Screeeeechchchchch" went the back wheels. "Whirrrrrrr" turned the car. "Yikessssss" screamed the missus. How the times have changed.

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

Take A Bow

Sometime back, a certain gentleman (I use the term loosely here, _real_ gentlemen kindly excuse), who had settled into some sort of a lazy routine, was kicked in the butt - not once, but twice, and back-to-back, by the same guy. Realizing that all the people can't be fooled all the time, he quietly took to wearing dark goggles and car-spotting on Sundays. Mind you, he could have stayed on. He could have given a semblance of a fight. There were a few gazillions who wanted him to (as against the few thousands who did not - you know, the "good riddance to bad rubbish" folks). Only, the people who had a say in him staying or leaving thought otherwise.



A significant population went up in arms about the future. They swore it would never be the same without him again. They vowed to stay away from the sport for good. Even the "good riddance" folks weren't sure if they would enjoy the season since their only source of hatred had safely stepped out. That had caused such a big hole of emptiness. It was a strange time.

And then there was Lewis Hamilton. The rookie who was supposed to block all-and-sundry in the backfield while Fernando Alonso ran away with the title.

And Fernando Alonso. The defending champion was who supposed to stand aside and watch his rookie team mate win the honors.

And Kimi Raikkonen. The "Best-Man-but-never-The-Man" who was supposed to struggle in his new team while his established (and well-connected) team mate would show him the way.

For the last race this season, the three of them would go head-to-head for racing supremacy. Would it be a rookie winning the championship (which the gentleman in question never achieved) ? Would Alonso make it three-in-a-row with two different teams (which the gentleman in question never achieved) ? Would Kimi finally win his first championship in his first year with a new team (which, again, the gentleman in question never achieved) after being ever-so-close ? But then, winning isn't the only thing this season.

Frankly, when did a Formula 1 season go down the wire like it did this time ? 2003, did you say ? Not exactly. 2006 ? Probably. 1999 ? Hmm, you can say that. 1990 ? ermm, you are exhibiting my inadequate knowledge of F1 here. All said and done we have three drivers going for the championship in a circuit that goes anti-clockwise, is notoriously bumpy, and can get flooded at the snap of a finger - try beating that.

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

Win Some, Lose Some

Automatic Transmission. Pavements. AMC. Netflix. Manzanita Gymnasium. Livermore. White Chocolate Mocha. Trail running. Santa Clara Central Library. Football. Highway 1. BK Boys. Panchathanthiram. Art of Intoxication aka Crescent Moon. Awesome Threesome. Moo.


Nanda talkies road. Shotokan. IQuiz. Sri Balaji. 3rd Main. Thirumalagiri. New Krishna Bhavan. XIIC. Punch. BK Boys. Bachi Bambo. Beautiful Tendril. Holy Basil. Daughter of Spring.

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

Business@Lack Of Thought

Imagine this: You own a rich stock of an absolutely non-essential good that half of the world does not want. Now, the powers-that-be have forbidden the explicit purchase of said stock and have prophesized terrible things (power cut during mega serial, gold price dropping _after_ you buy expecting a rise) who do not heed their words. Consider that said target audience have a strong belief in all prophecies and sundry, so much so that they would undergo worser things to ward them off. Now, you have a sea of stock, a bunch of doomsday predictions and an absolutely uninterested market. To paraphrase Dirty Harry, "Do you feel lucky ?? Do you ??".



"Draft a personal marketing policy considering individual buyer behavior", says the Yale graduate. "A cross-sectional deep dive of data needs to be collected", announces the one from Dartmouth. The Cornell graduate says "We need to try the 'Lionel Robbins' theory to verify the market's liquidity before trying anything". The shop-keeper at the corner of North Usman Road yawns and announces "Aadi Mega ThaLLupadi" thereby proving the killer marketing theory of all - the one immortalized by a leading economist of South India, Mr. Kounda Mani - "Free Giving, Phenyl Drinking".

The trick is straight forward and the worst kept secret after 'Who is India's real Prime Minister'. Calculate price X, Increase the price to Y, decrease the price to Z such that Z is greater than X. Don't pray and waste time. Just open the doors wide open and start raking in the moolah. Still no crowd ? Rope in some 'artistes' depending on your budget. Choose from Sneha hip-hopping in Times Square to some dial-in show hosts from Sun Music selling clothes to a mermaid (who, incidentally, is known for wearing nothing or next to nothing (in case of children's books)). If nothing works, try the Saravana Stores (the Real Madrid of the ad world - all stars, no bizz) way where, as a climactic touch, the CEO walks up to the TV screen with a big smile. The TV goes kaput, but business goes ka-boom. Hard to believe, I know. But ask the lady smiling end-to-end at the pseudo-killer bargain she made, and you decide to quit your Ivy League college and open a platform shop on North Usman Road.

Courtesy AMT, some shops which are largely unknown outside the corner of the street they are in manage to get serious air time, Market-out actors get a new lease of life, TV channels manage to fill out their ad slots like a breeze, Ranganathan street defies physics and other known human sciences yet again, the saree stores clear unwanted stock and get paid for it, people buy stuff that they don't require and yet convince themselves they are the winners. In every corner of every shop, the quintessential shopping companion carries diapers, feeding bottles and has leaves sprouting off his feet. Yep, that's about even.

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

Legilimensing Rowling

Three days to go before the worldwide release of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, and A Legilimens looks into the most-wanted head this week. 10 things I think, that are certainties in the last (or, to put it safely, 7th) book. Check back to see how I scored on Sunday.

10. Dumbledore Is Not Dead
You want to know why ?? Elementary, my dear Watson. The first question in any homicide - where is the body ?? Nope, you don't see it till the end of HBP. Second, we all know that Albus Dumbledore is the Gandalf of the series, so it is only fair that he comes back when they need him the most (which would be when Potter is a few inches from Voldemort's wand with him having said 'Avada Kedavrrr...'). For all conspiracy theorists, check this out. Somewhere in OOTP, when Moody is showing pictures of all the Aurors when the Order was formed, we get a casual mention of Aberforth Dumbledore - Albus' brother. Why am I thinking that it was Aberforth who took the hit from Snape than Albus ? If there is nothing added to the storyline by Aberforth and he is only a bar tender at The Hog's Head, why even mention him ?



9. Crookshanks & Padfoot
The next big secret of the series. That ginger tabby cat called Crookshanks is Regulus Arctrus Black. Let us face it, folks. Crookshanks hasn't done anything spectacular in his time. JKR would not include a character that stays with the trio all along, but still does nothing but purring and hissing. What we do know is that Crookshanks chased around Scabbers and Padfoot (Sirius) was spotted with Crookshanks a few times in POA. Regulus is as talented as his brother and so he would be an Animagus too. He was the opposite of Sirius (joined the Death Eaters, was close to his parents than Sirius ever was) and hence, understandably, took a form that was the opposite of Sirius' - a cat.

8. Precious Pettigrew
Another place where JKR alludes to LOTR. Remember the time in FOTR when Frodo says that Gollum deserves to die, only to be interrupted by Gandalf and said that Gollum might become useful sometime ?? Now, you have seen the part where Harry screams at Dumbledore that Peter should be killed in POA. You are about to see the part where Pettigrew (willingly or unwillingly) saves Harry and dies.

7. Primetime Fighting Challenge
Hagrid Vs That brutal giant leader who hurt him and Maxime in OOTP.
Lupin & Bill Vs Ferir Greyback and his army of werewolves
The Patils Vs Parkinson & Bulstrode
Dean & Seamus Vs Goyle & Crabbe
Ron Vs Draco
Arthur Vs Lucius
Mad-eye, Tonks, Kingsley, Mcgonagall Vs Rudolphus, Rabastan, Macnair, Rookwood
Dobby Vs Kreacher
Firenze Vs Bane

So many matchups. So little time.

6. A Change of Heart
Make no mistake - No matter what JKR says about the books getting darker and moving more towards adult readers, this is still a children's fantasy at heart. There are many bad guys to die in gruesome ways (Lucius, Rudolphus, Macnair, Crabbe Sr, Goyle Sr), that would leave Draco realizing the pointlessness of things, apologizing to Narcissa and repenting. Message of forgiveness conveyed.

5. Romeo+Juliet (without the death of course)
Ron+Hermione. I can see one half screaming "Obviously" and the other half, "What ?? Its Harry & Hermione". Congratulations to the first half, you have it right. The second half, kindly switch to reading some other series. It was so blatantly obvious right from the early books that it was meant to be Ron & Hermione. Heck, Chris Columbus even put a scene where Hermione hesitates to give Ron a hug.

4. The Return of Sirius
Nope, we are not talking about Tulsi here. This is Sirius, so no more come backs. Probably a few murmurs from behind the veil, but nothing more. However, Harry has a new Godfather - Regulus, who, in all probability, looks exactly like Sirius (thereby giving Gary Oldman a part in DH - The Movie). Fill it in with usual scenes where Regulus cleans up the Black Family Tree and adds the names of Sirius, Tonks in Grimmauld Place and then, in a soft voice, asking Harry if he could move in with him.

3. Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold
Regardless of our preferences towards Gandhi and Munnabhai, we all love a bit of ass-kicking. Nothing beats a scene where the baddest guy gets smoked by the fumbling underdog. To top it with the fact that baddest guy ruined the underdog's family, we have a moment that matches the intensity Gandalf's entry into Helm's Deep, or Aragorn and the Army of The Dead at Gondor. So, whats the best match up we have for DH ?? Obviously, Neville nailing Bellatrix. Hopefully, pushing her into the veil. Preferably, with the Cruciatus. Possibly, with his father's wand which was broken in OOTP.

2. The Real Star
For many of us (and Yes, _many_ of us), the real star of DH would be Severus Snape. A misunderstood hero, who probably made the biggest of sacrifices all along. Note that Severus is one of the best Occlumens around and he clearly mentions that only a great Occlumens would be able to lie in front of Voldemort, who is an accomplished Legilimens himself. Severus saved Potter when Quirrel was jinxing the broom in PS. Severus also tried to protect the trio from a changed Lupin in POA. He taught Harry Occlumency and at a time when Harry wanted to convey a message to the Order, he conveyed it - which effectively saved everyone at the Ministry of Magic. Even in HBP, Severus had chances to finish potter off himself, but didn't. He also didn't allow anyone else to get to Dumbledore, because only he knew how to get the job done. In DH, Severus would save Harry (yet again), only this time, he would lose his life and be etched in the upper echelons of tragic heroes :-) (okay, that was a tad too much, but you get the drift, don't you ?).

1. Harry Potter will not die.
Obviously.


Glossary
PS - Philosopher's Stone
COS - Chamber of Secrets
POA - Prisoner of Azkaban
GOF - Goblet of Fire
OOTP - Order of The Phoenix
HBP - Half Blood Prince
DH - Deathly Hallows

JKR - Joanne K Rowling
JRRT - JRR Tolkien

LOTR - Lord of The Rings
FOTR - Fellowship of The Ring
TTT - The Two Towers
ROTK - Return of The King

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

A Matter Of Time

Prologue

Philip couldn't sit in his seat for too long. The fight with Sophie this morning over breakfast was still haunting him. It was a simple matter of a slightly spicy breakfast which got worse with Philip telling Sophie this wasn't the first time and Sophie asking him to try making breakfast from tomorrow on. That touched a nerve, and being made for each other, the feeling of anger was mutual and simultaneous. After the war of words, both of them didn't utter a syllable throughout the trip to their respective places of work. After a few hours simple rational thinking resulted in Philip's temper becoming remorse. He had decided. He was not going to let a few milligrams of chillies get between him and Sophie. He wanted to apologize and get it over with. Most importantly, he knew what was probably the best way to get it done.

Philip & Sophie - 2007 AD

Philip picked up his mobile phone and after much thought, typed out the words "Sorry" and sent it to Sophie. He waited with bated breath for his phone to chime with the message "It's okay sweet heart". A few finger nails got ripped apart, but the phone still wore that dead pan expression. He thought for a while again and typed "I said I am really sorry, and I do mean it". Moments passed, but the phone didn't budge. Remorse became Unease.



Cursing mildly, Philip looked up his instant messenger and found Sophie online. If she wasn't going to respond to his message on the phone, she has to reply online. Thinking about it, he thought it is was probably better since it would cut the excruciating wait for messages on the phone.

"I am sorry", he typed and waited for the messenger to indicate that she was typing.
"I said I am sorry. Can we just get over it ??", he typed again. The messenger was decidedly mum.
"How many times do I have to say it ?? Can't you just say you are okay ??" was followed by "It wasn't my fault alone, okay ?? If I can apologize despite that, what is your problem ??" and later by "Thats it, if you want to be so stubborn, I can be twice as much" and thankfully concluded with a curt "Bye". Unease had decidedly morphed into Anger.

Philip picked up the land-line phone. Trembling in anger, he dialled her office number only to be responded with an engaged tone. "She did it on purpose. She unhooked the phone on purpose", he told himself. Anger, after having clouded his judgment, had promoted itself to become Rage.

And Rage does what it usually does when residing within a short-tempered young male with access to emails. Within a few minutes, Philip had spewed a few kilobytes of venom into Sophie's mail box. "That should teach her a thing or two", he proudly told himself - clearly not understanding the meaning of the word "proud".

Elsewhere, Sophie, who had forgotten to bring her mobile, was distraught that she couldn't apologize to Philip because the network infrastructure in her office had gone bonkers. In a corner of her mind, she was wondering how good it would be if Philip also felt the same way at some point of time in the day. Just as she was about to give up and leave for the day, the network came up. And so did an indication that Philip had sent her an email. She knew it, Philip had apologized profusely, the sweet heart that he was. She couldn't wait to send a message saying she was sorry too. She opened the mail and started reading.

Philip & Sophie - 2007 BC

Philip climbed on his horse and set out to meet Sophie. He met her, started apologizing, got stopped before he could complete his apology, was apologized to, hugged, told he was such a sweetie pie for having travelled so many miles on horseback through mountains, deserts, forests and other assorted landscapes for a simple apology and underwent lot of other general mushy things that would not be mentioned in this blog out of respect to Philip & Sophie. However, this blog, armed with that inside knowledge, would safely say that they lived happily ever after.

Epilogue
If you have learned the lesson about how any new scientific invention can never, ever replace human face-face communication, but unhappy that the 2007 AD version of Philip & Sophie have ruined it for themselves - read further.

Lot of things happened during the "Philip & Sophie - 2007 AD" story line which were cut for brevity. Philip's unexplained feeling in the deep end of his stomach after sending the email, him receiving a call from Sophie's best friend who wanted to convey a message to her but couldn't since she wasn't picking up her mobile phone and not responding to messages, a long thought process where he added one and one and arrived at two (in other words: realize that he had screwed up just about everything), a frantic rush to somehow get his hands on the mail that he sent, realizing computers weren't built to suit slip-ins and slip-outs, an undoubted gift from God when he remembered her Unix mail password which he used to log into her mail server and delete the message without a trace and a few less kbs in a mail which said how sorry he was about the whole thing in the morning which he sent seconds before her network came up. The mail, coupled with the few apology messages that Sophie found in her mobile at home, led to series of events later that evening which would continue to remain Philip & Sophie's little secret. To pry them would be plain uncivilized, but yes, in all certainty, they lived happily ever after too.

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

Once In A Blue Moon

A leaves his Virudhunagar home early in the morning with his wife and 18-month year old kid. He makes the trip to Madurai in record time and leaves his family at his wife's place. His son lovingly tugs his shirt asking him to stay. A replies "Baby, I have some very important work to attend to. Let me finish it get back on the double" leaving a kid heart broken and a wife concerned.

B has his business clients from the Ramanathapuram-Tirunelveli belt in South Tamilnadu upto Bubaneshawar in the East. B is an MBA. B also owns an upmarket Honda Civic which none of his other friends have. B manages more than one business at a time. But he would give all that up today. All that, and even more.



C never believed in the 24-hour clock idea. For him, the night began at 10 and then, after an hour or so, it was 8 in the morning. It made perfect sense to him. After all, who would want to do anything at 7 am in the morning ?? Today, for the first time in his 30-year stay on Earth, C realized that there exists something called 4:30am in the morning. He actually pinched himself when we woke up today and immediately vowed he cannot repeat it for any other reason, any time in the future.

D has a big problem. He isn't sure where to go. He can go to Salem, but there is no guarantee he can get one. He can go to Hosur, but he needs a Panzer to travel on Hosur Road. Finally, he sets his eye on Kolar. Heck, he would have gone to hell and beyond if he had to.

E and the missus get stuck in a major traffic jam near home. As they slowly inch their way up the flyover, E gets a good view on why the traffic is jammed. Trying to control himself and failing miserably, E asks if he can just take U-turn and head straight inside. The missus gasps at the general sophistication level of the crowd waiting outside. E is secretly glad the missus never made the trip to madurai cira 1996. Pushing his luck, E asks the missus if she can ride the two wheeler to work alone since he has "some urgent work that has come up". The missus politely indicates her displeasure by breathing a hole through his jacket by breathing fire. E bites the bullet and dutifully obliges by riding to work. But his time will come. In the next two days. It better.

The economy reports a sudden jolt in dairy products, camphor, lottery tickets and card-board.

Hey, Its not every day you have a thalaivar movie released.

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

A Pinch Of Salt

1. "Ah, I know why you are not seen outside on the weekends" followed by all-knowing smile.
False. When the two houses that matter to you claim to be in the same city, but are so far apart that when it rains in one place, it's blistering hot in the other, half your weekend is spent inside a Santro cursing the Industrial Revolution.

2. "Things are so easy after marriage. All that you have to do is relax on the couch and wait for the food to be served to you"
Blatant Lie. They forgot to fill you in about the part where you clean up the kitchen while aforesaid provider of food is busy watching VH1.

3. "A (wo)man is a [wo]man's best friend"
Myth. Its the Microwave. And The Refrigerator.

4. "Wow, even your names start with the same letter. You are truly made for each other"
Prevarication. You should see the gravity defying stunts that happen over the remote control.

5. "When you see the missus do things you cannot do, you puff up with pride"
Fabrication. When the missus does Tanjore paintings for a hobby while you cannot draw a straight line even if your life was one the line, yeah right.

6. "Whatever stress you are under, vaporises the instant you see your dog wagging it's non-existent tail in glee at your mere arrival".
True. Blissfully True. So thankfully true.

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

And So It Ends

Catch a snail and watch it every inch of the way until it completes the New Jersey Marathon. Or drop a little lactic acid bacteria into a bowl of milk and watch it turn into curd. Or watch the 2007 Cricket World Cup. As for interest levels and thrill factors go, they are more or less the same - no disrespect to the snails and the yeast microbes.

With respect to sheer excruciating length of the show, the 2007 CWC has only one competition. Sindbad from 'Dina Thanthi' (The Daily Telegraph), a daily in South India where the hero tries to slay a monster in a three-pane comic strip (Pane 1 Sindbad stares at monster, Pane 2 monster returns stare, Pane 3 Sindbad wondering aloud whether to use a curse or his sword to overcome the monster which would have died by that time due to old age). However, by the time the first round of matches were over, Sindbad had waded through a slew of such monsters and was wanting more which doesn't say much about the format of the WC. Eventually, Malcolm Speed 'felt' that the tournament might have been 'slightly long'. Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for The Understatement of The New Millenium.



As for predictability, there are a few close competitors viz. "Kolangal", "Arasi" and "Lakshmi" - three flagship television mega serials where, in a move of pure genius at writing screenplay, the writers have ensured that no matter how many episodes you miss, you would still be able to pick up the story right from the point where you left. Oh, and if you want to point out some unexpected twists in the WC where Bangladesh and Ireland qualified for the Pauper League, they are exactly as soppy as their mega serial counter parts at best. Don't believe me ?? By a show of hands, tell us if you really thought Bangladesh or Ireland had any chance in the Pauper League ?? Anybody ?? Helloooo ??

So, after few months of lugging it around, we get to see a final. No, we finally get to see players grope around in the dark while the match referees and umpires are unsure of how to complete the match when it is written in big, bold letters in the rule book. And yes in a dramatic event of gigantic proportions, Australia won the WC. By a hair's width of 50+ runs (where the hair in question is Keratin from a Rhino's horn). After decimating the opponent earlier in the day. For the third time in a row. And they are unbeaten in the WC for God-knows-how-long. Wasabi icing on Ladies-finger cake.

Some food for thought : How about a WC format where Australia have to play beat _every_ single team to win the WC ?? How about giving Kichaans (the thamizh equivalent of Handicaps) to the other teams and their players ?? Maybe just arrive at different winning criteria for australians (score twice the runs in half as many overs by losing a quarter of the wickets the opponents lost, and if case all criteria are met, the whim of the opposing captain) ?? Play clandestine World Cups when the Australians aren't looking ?? Just plain abolish the sport of cricket and wait for the Australians to forget the game and then start all over again ??

It is evident Cricket needs an overhaul. No, not politician-turned-administrators and no-good-businessmen with a foot-in-the-mouth disease. Not ridiculously whimsical fans whose idea of fandom is (a) having the same hairstyle as their hero or (b) destroying their half built house. Not terminally-greedy managers who hiked the ticket rates beyond a limit that the empty seats easily outnumbered the occupied ones for the semi-final between the world's top ODI team and the current world champion. And definitely not intellectuals who banned people from carrying musical instruments inside cricket stadiums inside the West Indies because of the noise. What next ?? Stripping astronauts out of their space suits because they are heavy ??

Cricket administrators need to buy a new dictionary and look up the word "Relegation". They also need to understand the meaning of the phrase "Tiered Leagues". Have Eight teams in Tier 1 and call it International Cricket. Have Eight more teams in Tier 2 and call it League Cricket. Just to make sure home-bred FTBs (Flat Track Bullies) don't bloat their records, divide cricket records into International and League so that the "Highest Scorer in International Cricket" is not someone with a 600 not out against Scotland and a 12.52 average against Australia. Let teams play test matches and one-dayers against opponents only within their tier. After every year or two, re-visit the rankings and relegate the bottom two teams from Tier 1 to Tier 2. Promote the top two from Tier 2 up to Tier 1. Rinse. Repeat.

Then sit back and see how Pepsi/Coke/Sudarmani Underwear sponsor a team that plays 3-test series and triangular championships against Netherlands and Bermuda.

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

Pulling The Plug

On the 16th of April, 2007, brave students closed down the doors and held them with objects and their bodies as shields to protect their classmates. There were long lines queue outside the nearest blood banks in Blacksburg minutes after the news of the bloodbath had broken out. Prayers were held all around the world in memory of the people they don't even know. Internet forums were filled with consolations for families that lost loved ones. The man who delivers newspapers for the assassin's house swells up in tears thinking about the fate of the parents. You seem to understand why it rains during summer.



Immediately thereafter, the first auction opened up on ebay to sell URLs. The names are essentially a mix of the University's name and one of carnage/gore/bloodbath/massacre. They are touted as "unmatchable domain names for selling memorabilia". Other assorted websites are starting to host pictures of the massacre for sale. Certain section are already fearing racial prejudice so much so that their respective embassies issue a statement in that regard. Just about anyone who has a white coat and a fancy leather chair (a total number of, say, Z) is invited to offer psychological insights into the heads of would-be assassins on every single TV show (a total of 2xZ).

In The Near Future Everyone who is silent or keeps to himself is either going to end up in a strait jacket or in solitary confinement. A bored housewife would write her memoirs titled "How I Survived A Mass Murderer In The Neighborhood" with the words "Note: Author lives in Nevada. But has traveled within 25 square miles of Blacksburg in 2007" appearing in small print. It would also include 101 breakfast recipes in the last 101 pages of the 103-page book, but will not affect it's sale adversely. Hollywood will buy out the rights to film the story. They would make a token donation to the University and would offer to invite the bereaved for the premiere, provided they sign an 'No Interviews' agreement. They would also be given a 5 minute feature on the Special Edition DVD as a token of their gesture. All would be forgotten until someone else abuses his/her gun and dedicates it to Eric, Dylan and Cho.



Somewhere in outer space, The Omnipotent Few Who Are Watching Us From High Above are clearly frustrated at their experiment and moved another inch closer to pulling that plug from under Project Earth.

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

Nethu Rathiri Yamma

Everyday I walk into office with red-shot eyes, the inevitable question of "Did you lose sleep last night" is raised. Everyone seems to have convinced themselves that its because the of the World Cup and I choose to let them believe. Saves a lot of embarrassing questions.

Before I go into this blog, a few disclaimers
1. I am not ashamed of the fact that my first time was in my late 20s.
2. I am not ashamed of the fact that it was almost an every day affair at home till few weeks back
3. I am not ashamed if people think I am not acting my age by posting about all this.



The problem in our country is that we always put up a very closed projection of ourselves to the public. We frame a set of 'rights' and 'wrongs' for our children. Thus, children aren't given the right exposure at the right time and when they become adults, its only obvious that they get attracted and even become enslaved to all that they missed when they were younger. If only I was allowed to indulge when I was younger, I am sure I would have gotten over it years back and this new found craze wouldn't be as demanding as it has become.

My first time (obviously when I was alone, what were you thinking) was just plain earth-shattering. But just as addictive. And after a while, you start telling yourself you are not addicted, but are just interested. But the truth is there for everyone to see. Closed rooms, prolonged hours with yourselves, showing physical strain and tiredness, the usual - I was well and truly an addict. This makes the part where you come out of the closet to explain things to people doubly difficult. I have had, and am still having a difficulty. But not anymore. Not after this blog.

My one request to all my brothers and sisters out there. Do not be afraid to confess. You are not alone. It is only human to develop a taste for it. Don't heed those sniggers from behind your back. They are all ignorant or jealous or both. Just keep getting better at what you are doing. One day, they would all know what they been missing.

Note : Text below emboldened, increased in size and generally made prominent after
a) a few mails which range from minimal insult to outright libel
b) a few mangled cooking pans at home. Surprisingly, their misshapen form resembles my silhouette.

Viva Final Fantasy XII. Viva God Hand. Viva PS2.

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

Stomp The Yard

Average Joe's list of moonwalkers starts and stops with Neil Armstrong. Average Joe was recently informed that Salsa is not always a sauce. Average Joe pretends to look sloshed every time he is invited to a dance. Average Joe doesn't even dance in his own bathroom. Average Joe strongly believes that he is a few light years away from Dancing. Average Joe couldn't be farther from the truth.

Having Average Joke taking dance classes is like asking a Great White to register in the Summer Swimming Course. Every Average Joe is born with one inherent talent that rears it head when the right time comes by. Welcome to the world of Tappanguthu. In the next few minutes, you, the reader, are going to invoke the Tappanguthu beast that was peacefully sleeping inside you and everyone around is going to have their hearts up in their throat - one way or the other.

The first step to a good Tappanguthu dance is footwork. So, you sway your feet like a peacock or you are nimble like a doe ?? Please continue your grace and choose another art from. Tappanguthu is not for you. Not ever. The real Tappanguthu star is blessed with a complete lack of footwork so much so that he needs to be reminded that he cannot keep two paces on his left leg successively. Tappanguthu has just one major move which is a one-size-fit-all. Imagine a leech charging at your left foot from straight ahead. Kill it with all your might. Imagine another leech, this time at your right foot. Kill it. There is a third leech and a fourth. Even a fifth. An army of them. Now kill them alternating between your right and left foot. By the time you kill the 153rd, your footwork is tuned to Tappanguthu. Take a look at exhibit 'A' - Thalaivasal Vijay in "Kavalaipadade Sahodara". Look at his feet and their synchronized movement. Can he possibly be doing anything else than slowly, but surely, killing leeches ??

The second step is efficient use of hands. The old school believes that the art got it's name from the position of the fists which are rolled in, ready to punch. However, the neo-classicals have decidedly recommended against this. A good Tappanguthu always originates with open palms, which are usually shown at the partners face, chest, hips or other convenient areas. When there are two dancers, they trade the 'kuthu' alternately between each other. While Average Joe A pumps at B's face, B pumps at A's chest. After an agreed number of 'kuthu's, they trade places and continue with the same vigor. A cautionary note: The part where both of them agree on a said number of 'kuthu's is very important to prevent life threatening injuries and is hence highly recommended. Exhibit B has Dhanush and Chaaya Singh from "Manmadha Raasa". Enjoy the bilateral, symmetric exchange of 'kuthus'.

The third step is creative usage of the face. Other art forms strongly believe in the maxim 'the face is the index of the mind' and try hard to fit in all the nine emotions into their curriculum. But considering how difficult it is for the dancer and equally painful for the watching public, Tappanguthu offers to simplify it and creates a singular emotion which encompasses the crux of the art. For want of a better word, we will call it 'Lazy Anger'. To distinguish itself from other art forms which primarily use the eyes to emote, Tappanguthu uses the tongue. Extend tongue. Fold tongue inwards. Clamp it with teeth. When tongue is in place, half close both eyelids. There, Lazy Anger. Exhibit C has Vikram in "Gemini Gemini". Look at the lazy look in the eyes and the anger in the tongue. Just perfect.

The last, and probably the most important, component of Tappanguthu is the pelvis. Legend has it that an American with long sideburns, big glasses and funky hairstyle once attended a three day symposium on Tappanguthu in Vadipatti (in the outskirts of Madurai). Totally floored by the creative juices the locals let flow during their jamming sessions, he took his learning back to his country. His pelvis is now history. The pelvis is to Tappanguthu what the safety pin is to a grenade. Unleash one at the right time, and the effect can be quite explosive. Imagine pumping air into a cyle using an air pump. Now imagine that pump being parallel to the ground. Now go with the music and fill 'em up tubes. Exhibit D has Simbu, Nayanthara and Reema Sen from "Yamma Yamma Yammamma". The sum total of pelvis thrusts, if used with a cycle pump, would have inflated all four wheels of a bulldozer.

I can see you breathing heavily, folding your tongue in anticipation. Your feet are ready to move and you rub your hands eagerly. Your pelvis is off the hook. The Beast is waiting to be unleashed. It demands to be fed. Feed it well with "Vaala Meenukum Velangu Meenukkum Kalyanam".

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

Happy Women's Day

- Rap is lame. So is Hip-hop. Not to forget Trance. Rock Rules.

- Professional stenographers take hints. Men will fumble despite being given a three-page essay on "what to do, when to do and how to do". If we have to know something, it's easier when we are told.

- In theory, a candle-lit dinner is a candle-lit dinner even if it is taken during a power cut at home. What value-add does an open-air restaurant have ??

- When we look at other women, we always think like anthropologists. Yes, that is more like it.

- "Yes" is not "No". "Yes" might even mean "But Don't Count On It" or "But Not For Long", but definitely not "No". In fact, "Yes" was invented to be opposite of "No" and can never mean "No". Even in exceptional circumstances.

- Every time we hear "Basically, I am looking for a nice guy", we take a deep look into ourselves to see if we are really Columbian drug lords.

- Formula1 is not just driving a car in circles. It is definitely better than jewelry shopping, where most people keep going in circles.

- Diamonds are forever. But life isn't. So let us all live life first, and think about diamonds later.

- We forget our debit card pass codes. We forget our email passwords. We forget our deadlines. So it is not like we intentionally forget any birthdays.

- We are all not Hugh Jackmans out here. But it would be nice to appreciate the fact that we aren't all Charles Mansons either.

- Curd rice is a dish. Making it needs expertise and it is most definitely an upgrade over Hot Water and Instant Noodles.

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

Eavesdroppers Inc.

Heard from the bell tower of The Cathedral in Notre Dame/Somewhere from inside The Swamp/ The basement of Opera Garnier/ The Ball Room of the Palace in the Enchanted Forest

"You give us courage. You give us hope. And you give us the confidence that women sometime do make really hasty decisions. Go on, Brother"

On top of an electric pole 100 metres from a well lit building on Outer Ring Road

Crow 1: Scarecrow !! Scarecrow !! (violently jerks and falls into a coma)
Crow 2 (looking at the audience at large): Yes, that is what 'Arunthur and his shirt-tucked-in look' does to us.

Somewhere deep in space

An invisible spirit: So, do you finally concede defeat Mr. Rao ??
An invisible Narasimha Rao: Yes. I do. I did smile once during my marriage reception. This kid here is a piece of art.

The Board Room, Van Heusen Headquarters

Chief Economic Officer: Sir, our plan worked. We clandestinely made Arunthur wear a Louis Philippe suit and now, no one would touch them with a barge pole. I hear the spectacle was quite abominable.

The Idioms Committee, Oxford Dictionary

Data Entry Operator: Are you sure you want to do this ?
Chief Editor: Yeah, yeah. Change "Fish out of water" to "Arunthur in a panchakacham"

In the neighborhood

Earnest Aunt : "All my friends told me that my son-in-law reminds them of someone they know, someone familiar, someone who plays ...."
Smug Arunthur : "Yeah, many say so, especially if they had watched watched Mission Impossible or Mr. & Mrs Smith recently"
Brutally Honest Aunt: "the evil (fill in much-maligned blood relation here) in (fill in generic ekta kapoor's 'K' serial name here) that comes on Star One in the afternoon "

Nalaguraidhoo Island, Maldives

(On watching a sunbathing Arunthur)
Wolfgang Gunther: I wud keill to haav da tan dat guy haas. Ja.
(After a few minutes of patient observing)
Olivier Platini: Monsieur, lookz likez ze waz bornz tannedz.

At the Grand Buffet in The Maaniya Restaurant

"Can you pass me that tuna salad"
"The grilled beef was brilliant"
"Did you try those golden-fried chicken popsicles ?"
"Believe me, I was full after trying two servings of the minced lamb sausage"
"Excuse me, could you help me find out where the bowl of yellow dal is located ??"

A Coral Reef few nautical miles from said island

Nemo: Daddy, what is that thing curled up like an orange furball with fins, all dehydrated on the deck of that boat ?
Marlin: That is over-enthusiasm wrapped in a life jacket, Son. Dory, what should you avoid when you are sea-sick ?
Dory: I know this, I know this. Ermm, uhmm, ahem.

Taped conversation between a legal luminary and a determined wife

"I have double checked it. You do have complete legal immunity if you smother him with a pillow next time he wakes you up at 5 in the morning on your honeymoon trip to celebrate an Indianapolis Colts Touchdown, Superbowl or not".

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

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) ...