A midnight sojourn with God.

An Assassin series by a new author.

A gunner hunting down digital zombies and on the run from the system.

A tear-jerker SRK movie that surprisingly wasn’t overboard and mostly enjoyable.

A Hallmark-driven marketing campaign, otherwise known as Singles Awareness Day.

A taut thriller of a movie, obscure and off beat, but simply marvellous.

You take your pick, as to what I should be expounding on. Personally, I pick the last. But for those who are stalking me ( ah, the very unfortunate rarefied set of nincompoops!) I shall deliver the details of everything else before that too.

So, this was the first time in my life when I decided I would go say Hello to God (ahoy there! Howdy?) for one of these festivals that celebrates staying up all night and playing cards/ludo/street-light cricket ( Nay, I ain’t exaggerating when I say, this one is celebrated by staying up all night – My dad does a suprise on all of us by going this place called Aluva Manappuram – literally translated to Aluva sandy beaches where Shivarathri is pretty huge deal !!) anyways coming back to me, I pay a visit to a nearby temple to pay my respects and pray for the general good of Humanity, more so for me and near ones. After close to an hour of waiting in the queue, i finally glimpse the God, fund the pundits’ welfare association by dropping money into the Hundi. I came away with two things that stuck with me – the duo of music players playing nadasvarram and dholak ( if I may call it so). Largely ignored by the public, quietly sitting in the corner and gustily playing the instruments. Let me tell you, it takes a lot to play that wind instrument. Strong pair of lungs. The easy effortless camaraderie between the older man playing the reed-pipe instrument and the younger man vigorously going hammer-and-tongs on the tavil or the traditional drums was a treat. It takes years of practice to reach that level of easy confidence. But few have tried to translate it to the rock scene - take a look at this:

http://mani-neumeier.de/guruguru/guru_01_guruguru.htm

The second was this lanky guy wearing a black t-shirt. And the message on that t-shirt:

www. giftwrapped.biz :-)

lets say I found another e-comm site to surf around.
Well tomorrow, as all of us know is the Singles Awareness Day celebrated with a lot of pomp and splendour by couples-struck-by-that-bald-silly-kid with a bow and arrow. Lets rest it that now, shall we.

Okay I skip the rest and fast forward – the books are passé, good stuff but fiction that dies out a week after you put them down. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of promising new writers on the fantasy horizon. I love it. For all you fantasy-hungry waiting to devour a new author who can finish his series within countable number of parts to it ( unlike Robert Jordan who passed away leaving a lot of us hanging over the precipice or George RR Martin who sleeps for years after he finishes any book in the series) – Brent Weeks, Jeff Somers, Brian Ruckley, Mark Chad Newton. Tip of the iceberg. I am slowly devouring that berg :D

So coming down to the last item on the list, the taut thriller movie. Manorama, Six Feet Under. A very obscure, low-budget movie set in rustic Rajasthan. About a struggling author and the strange intriguing circumstances that befall him. Its beautifully shot, the camera capturing the lovely desert landscapes of an ancient rajasthani village, doing full justice to this land. It’s no secret, I love this land as I spent four years of growing up at Pilani. That was another reason why I loved the movie, drenched deep with nostalgia at the lovely dunes that unfolded on the screen. Apart from that, the linear and yet convoluted storyline that keeps making you grab for that edge of the chair, lest you take a fall yourself. Twists, intrigue, mystery, murder, everything that you need to form a crackling dark thriller. I was very impressed with this small-time movie and have resolved to dig up such gems from the past and devour it myself. Abhay Deol, the quintessential off-beat hero, pays full justice to the role of the unwilling author-turned-detective with his dark brooding on-screen presence. But that said, I believe what lends credence to the movie is the small and colourful sidekicks. Be it the mysterious old taxi-driver who has just 2 lines in the movie “Raat Toofani gayi ka?” or the goons with rib-crackling punch-lines or be it the brother-in-law, mouthing guttural rajasthani wisecracks ( take this, “baal hi kaatwana, naada math katwaaana jeeje” – meaning – “take down the hair and not the pants, brother-in-law” ) all in all, a neat package. Thoroughly enjoyable, haunting soundtrack, great measured performances.

Now I shall wing it, coz I got to celebrate love. After all, today’s valentines day. Wink!

Tribute.

In the morning, wake me up! And tell me everything.
So that I can understand your world and you can understand my dreams. Yeah I could be everywhere, and yes, you can be there with me anytime! But no, I just want to be a ghost and be everywhere, see everything. Be everything.

No one’s perfect. But no, I ain’t giving that lame line of I’m no one. I am one among you. Faceless, nameless. Floating. A Vapor that passes you by and you would never get a whiff of me. But I still know that it’s you.

Who’re they? The inimitable collective whom we blame for everything because we ain’t man enough to take it on our frail shoulders?

Oh bliss!! To be smashed out of your brains. To be blown away into that kingdom. Of lovely maidens, clear blue skies, white pearly beaches, green gentle waves lapping up the sands, and of the school of multi-colored exotic fishes that nibble at your fingers, the birds throating it in full glory.

So C’mon Y’all Let’s take this town. Let’s get away. Like a Child I must believe in all this. And hence this shot to the head. To get away. Everyone of you, let’s put our worry down, Stand up on your feet and let’s all chant
“Long Live the Absinthe! Long live the Green Fairy!”

Oh Bliss. To shut out this world for a while and swim in my dreams!

Note: Blitzed out of my skull on the weekend. Having killed all my slower cells, fully-functional and non-delusional, firing on all cylinders.

Blues or Bliss?

Weekend Blues

I know, it’s like a misnomer! I mean, who the fuck gets blues on a weekend pal?
Sadly, I do.
Lets face it, Life Rocks – reads one of my friends’ wall on facebook. Hmmm...lets see –

Friday night-out at the movies, [in between I got a phone-call that could change my life!], Saturday lunch-out with a close friend with whom I can rant about everything that is wrong in my life, Evening spent on splurging in buying my favorite books, Night spent at home eating YUM butter chicken masala and watching ‘Black Dahlia’ [Which I rank as Josh Hartnett’s best movie ever beating Lucky Number Slevin], Sunday lazed at home watching re-runs on the telly, catching up with friends in Mumbai [this was very nice], spoke to a NYU Grad who wants to shoot a film la-RDB-ishtyle for her thesis on Indian Call-centre [Correct, am auditioning and I’m hoping she’s as nice looking as Suu aka Gulabbo], now lazing in my bean-bag typing away [ in between I got chided for having slept through the afternoon, I disappointed this really nice girl coz I did not take a huge hint for having coffee with her, Loser that I am!], with Phillip Pullman’s Golden Compass lying next to me.

Good weekend in most senses. Lazy self-indulgent, completely on my terms. I guess in that ways, I’m an extreme existentialist and hate it when someone tells me what to do with my life. I like the Blues. I like the mess. I like the hazy uncertainties that swarm around and engulf me most of the times. Because I like my life, on my own terms. And am glad.