தப்பித்தல்

சிறை பட்டு,
தரை பார்த்து,
உறை பனியாய் கிடக்கும் நாட்களில்
கரைந்து போகாமல்,
கரை கடப்பது எப்போது?

System

There are four coins in the table I have an option to chose one. I chose one on my free will. So were all millions of people before and after me. Based on what every one chose surely there would have been a probability of what I might have chosen. As billions and billions people had chosen the probability would be damn accurate with an negligible error percent. If what I chose could have been predicted without ‘me’ does that not mean I have no free will? Didn’t I choose what I shall have chosen?

No. Because the probability is from the perspective of the system. If the system has predicted I might chose coin A and if I chose coin B then it is only a negligible error for the system for which I am one among the sample space of billions. I am no longer an error, only a noise. The fundamental premise of the system is the common denominator of a huge population, which is called the social behavior. It is not something that existed. It is something that has evolved just because more people decided to choose a coin over the other three. But the system conveniently can forget it and project on collective consciousness as it will make the system more reliable and simple. If a system has to be reliable it has to be simple enough for more people to believe and not simple enough to understand.

Do I change anything in system by choosing otherwise? No I can’t change the system. It’s not even my intention. My intention is my own ends. If my choice is in line with system prediction it embraces it. If not throws out me as noise.

The bicycle thieves

Films are essentially about what it creates in you when you watch. But still context matters, more, older the film is. For the films which don't belong to our times, the one about which we read so many times, which we want to see because everyone you awe, awed about it. If we don't know the context, we may miss the beat. We may fail to understand why it was so pulsating then(though not now). The bicycle thieves also needs one such context. If we don't remember (to be exact force ourselves to remember), once cycle itself a luxury, we can ask what the heck, its a cycle.

The movie is more like a short story. It's during great depression times in Italy. The hero gets a job, when everyone struggles to get it. His job is to post flyers. He needs cycle for it. He talks to his wife about his rotten luck of having job and not to go. His wife takes the bed spreads which came as a present for her marriage,(which will explain why she is soar when she takes it to pawn shop) to pawn shop. With the pledged money he retrieves the cycle he pledged long time back. The whole country is running through pawn shops. It is one of the beautifully shot scene in the film. He goes to next counter in the same shop to redeem his cycle. At that time a person carries the bed spreads to store it. He enters a room which is filled with nothing but pledged bedspreads, as if the whole countries bed spreads just lie there.

While in work bunch of guys steal his cycle. The remaining movie is his search for it. During the process he even goes and meet an evangelist , whom he ridicules when his wife go to pay her for prediction that her husband will get job. He becomes a believer, he walk through all roads with his son for cycle. At last when he realizes he can't get the cycle, he decides to steal one. He steals and get caught. People beat him , and all this happens before his son. He walks back with his son. No longer its just a cycle that he lost.

The film still has relevance: you can replace a cycle with something. What makes a person to commit his first crime? The little push that starts the free fall of human character. Human character- that’s the word we use to define a man .Man who is actually what he is made of ,all those virtues he wrapped himself which might be of no value, they can't protect him if the things turns out to be too vicious to not break up. As the movie closes he walks back towards home, wiping his face with kerchief and his son holds his hand and his face is filled with tear, it can break anytime.

Its a neorealist film, the earliest of films that used real people and not actors in movie. But not those 'first of time' that makes this movie stand against winds of time. Its relevance, the concept it speaks about and the way it speaks. The way it follows a man's search for his cycle, his only source of hope to a normal life in a dying country. How far he goes to get it back, how much he puts in stake to get it, how much he will take before he gets broke. A movie more than just worth to watch for.....

Note: I thought of the interesting movies I watched last 2 weeks in a single post but will post others later

The Hours----time ticks

Books (even movies and music) are like wine, they need to get old with time before declaring them masterpiece. It needs more than one sip to peel out the various aromas they will give. Their taste more often don’t lie with buds in tongue but on the way it travels in and the sense it gives. But we can say whether it can become a good wine ,the moment it was pour in to the cask for storage. On my first read of ‘the hours’, exactly that’s what I felt: It’s a good read.

The novel traces 3 stories or could I say 3 independent incidents. Each one is rooted to its past and impacted profoundly by what they are and how they were. Virginia wolf is about to write her greatest story, “Mrs. Dalloway”. As that particular day unfolds she decides about what each character will do. What actually dictates their character? What she is, what she want to be, how she conflicts and collide with people conjures up as a story. It’s a magic of capturing the moment where a flower blossoms and the sweet scent fills the room. It’s a momentary feel, technically you can say the instant where it happened report it micro second by microsecond, but still you might not have told what actually happened. But Michael Cunningham transpires it beautifully. May be it’s because he took the literary freedom and made a story out of incidents that transpired over a period of time. May be, Virginia wolf wrote Mrs. Dalloway and she had committed suicide later in her life is the only fact that he stated. May be all things he stated are actually happened in his mind. What the heck …its so beautifully told, with all those powerful words, expressions and metaphors above all its relevance to life, the real life, not the life of blood and skin but that of the grey and white matter.

Mrs. Lara Brown has a picture perfect family, what most will long for. She has a war hero husband who is sincere in his work and in his care for family. On his birthday, he wakes up before his wife, buys flower and makes breakfast for his son. He senses his wife is dull but he attributes it to her pregnancy. He is, the common man, the successful common man. But the problem is Laura is not looking for him. What she wants is not this. But can she say it? She fills her life in reading books. Her everyday is struggle between the life she wish to have and the life she have which is filled with the people who love her and care for her. On the particular day she is reading the novel “Mrs. Dalloway”. You could blame the novel she was reading or the passionate kiss she gave to Kity, which made her understand her lesbian interest or who knows what inside her brain, she decides to commit suicide. But her love for life stops her from doing it and she returns to her family. Eventually she leaves her family and runs to Canada and spends her life as a librarian.

Clarissa is an editor living with her lesbian partner in New York. She is busy on the day with the party she is planning for her friend, Richard. Richard, an AIDS patient who is counting his days to death, has been awarded a literary honor, for the only novel he wrote, which spends reams and reams of paper about nothing. The only thing, who ever read it understood is (from the lady who sells the flowers to Richard‘s gay partner), he has spoken in length about Clarissa. He has a chapter running for pages which simply states how much time Clarissa had spent in a nail polish shop , ending up not buying any nail polish .‘The hours’ presents itself a book on existentialism, on marginal people, what not. But at the end, all I could feel is, it is the best love story I have ever read. The one that Clarissa has on Richard and the one Richard has on Clarissa. Of all the things that happened to her she still remembers the day, the kiss she shared with Richard. That was the happiness. She thought it was the starting. But thirty years later she knew it was the moment. Richard (only Richard) call her Mrs. Dalloway for reasons no one know. May be on a crazy moment when both knew each love one another more than anything else, on the moment of pinnacle of one’s happiness he started to call her Mrs. Dalloway and he calling her so continues. Clarissa, still wonders, how it could have been if they chose to be together. They are not together; it’s more because of their love for them, which is actually their love for life. Some hours before the party, Richard commits suicide. How much it affects Clarissa? It looks she knew it all way. Her love for day is slightly more than her love for Richard. After all that’s what keeps us moving, isn‘t it? In spite of all the heartbreaks, all those hours which just exist to remind us the good old time once we had. We all rooted in our past and we still look forward for day for reasons no one can say how. The concluding line of the novel best surmises it:
“We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep. It's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out windows, or drown themselves, or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us are slowly devoured by some disease, or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds & expectations, to burst open & give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so.”

Life is all about living

For the sake of convenience let’s assume I met this lady, who is in her fifties, somewhere in my life and we were talking about something which ended up about war.

I saw some news, it seems some blast in your country. Is it war? She asked.

Well it’s not war, as countries fight, but some fundamentalist and terrorist organization, I told her.

“War is bad, too bad”, she continued. They will give a warning and will drop the bombs. I was a kid. 10 years old. I was in street for shopping. One such sound came. People were running. I don’t know what to do. I saw a shop owner closing his shop. I went in. I was a small kid. Her hands were showing a small height, and her eyes were lost somewhere. So he allowed inside and closed the door. There was a heavy sound of shells dropping and guns shooting (actually she made the sound). Then after 10 minutes no sound. The shop owner opened the door slightly and saw outside. He asked me to wait for some time then after an hour he opened the door and asked me where I Live. I told it’s just few blocks away. I came out. Its dead bodies on street. I saw my parents searching for me in them. When I used to go to school, I will see these dead soldiers in age of 13 or 17 outside the church . It will disturb me. It still disturbs me. I take medicine. I talk with people, consult doctor otherwise I may get depressed. If I saw any such news in TV, my husband will switch off the TV. Suddenly in night I may wake up, because I may hear the shooting sound and the light that chased me when I tried to escape. If my son plays music loud, I ask him to reduce. I don’t know why there is war but war is bad.

I don’t know what to say. I simply saw her. She was regaining her control. She said life is going. When I landed in this country, it was cold, I was having no winter dress, I am standing in bus stop and I don’t know the language. Then I said to myself If I have to live here I shall first learn the language then some education to work. Now I am here.

Something got into my stomach, but at the same time I felt how lucky I was. I was not born in a place torn by war or by poverty or by natural disaster. It doesn’t mean nothing could happen in future. It simply means so far so good. I sit here and cry about my rat race failures: the guy next to me bought a house or got promoted or got ....,what not, while there are millions and millions of people who aren’t sure of the next day (and even if it happens it means nothing to them). I am not talking about getting complacency or renunciation of worldly desire or the emotional black mail ( you are in a better position than them). The thing that I am trying to drive to myself is: Life is not fair. Lot of things happens; you attribute it to chaos, probability or the God. But move on. That lady tried four times to escape and got and finally landed in a country with no money, no language. Now she is self standing women with a caring husband and nice kid. Yes, she is still tormented by her memories, but she never surrendered to it. She had her kept her spirits high. The spirit, the life, keeping it alive is the activity one is supposed to do. It’s what living is all about. Everyone has a way of doing it. Its not the end result, he gets in it that keeps his spirit, it is the process of doing it. The end result is a tiny moment. The process, the means, that’s where we spend most of our time. If you are not happy about it, it doesn’t matter what you get at end. Lot of things can decide how it turns it out but nothing stops u from doing it except you.

மீண்டும்

சொன்னதையே சொல்லி, பேசியதியே பேசி,
நேரத்தை நீட்டி, காலத்தை கரைத்து,
கடல் தாண்ட முடியாது -என தெரிந்தாலும்,
கரை கலக்கும் முயற்சியிலே வாழ்க்கையை கானும் அலையாய் -
கண் மூடி,
உலகம் உறங்குவதாய் நினைத்துகொள்வது கூட சுகம் தான்.
உடைந்த கண்ணாடியில்,
பெருகும் பிம்பமாய் என்னுள் நீ.

p.s:
நீண்ட காலமாய், தமிழில் எதுவும் எழுதவில்லை. எதவாது எழுதியே தீரவேண்டும் என் முடிவு செய்த பொழுது, ஒரு காதல் கவிதை எழுத முடிவு செய்த காரணம், சுலபமாக செய்யக்கூடியது அதுவாக மட்டுமே பட்டது.

He is not the one

Most often, when we run into old friends accidentally, once initial exuberance is over, we find out he is not the person with whom we laughed at the world. There is a lot changed in him. One such incident is the opening scene of the film Almodóvar’s Bad Education.

Filmmaker Enrique, is in a ‘creative crisis’, running into newspaper for inspiration’s, to make a story. There is a knock on the door. His assistant opens it. A person introduces himself as Ignacio, an aspiring actor who wants to meet Enrique. The assistant tries to avoid him by saying there is not any project now. He stresses that Enrique is his school friend. Assistant tells Enrique, the guy name is Ignacio. Enrique rushes to receive him. Ignacio explains his reason for visit. He is now a stage actor, looking for an entry into film industry. Enrique asks him was he not writing any more. Ignacio gives him the last story, he wrote, which stems based on what happened to them in their school days, and a fictional follow up of what happens when they meet after so many years. He asks Enrique to read it, saying he may find some inspiration. I will do, Enrique says and stands up to indicate meeting is over. Ignacio wants to hang around, so he asks can I help you with something. Enrique says it’s not needed and takes him to the door. The initial jubilation is not there, there is a kind of professionalism in his tone as he walks his old school friend to the door. His assistant asks whether he wants to use him, it looked to him he enjoyed talking to him. Enrique says, it’s highly erotic to see an aspiring actor looking for chance and that’s why he talked to him so long. He concludes by saying he was his first lover.

He is not seeing the same Ignacio, he saw, fallen in love with, and stood for, in his school days. After some time, while he is ready to do that film, he wants Ignacio to do the role of grown up Enrique. But Ignacio wants to do the role of grown up Ignacio, which is a transsexual character which will give him the break he looks for. Enrique tells him, he is no longer that Ignacio.

As story unfolds, we get into the complex web of incidents and characters: A story, within the story which in turn flash backs to past true incidents, involving Boy-boy relationship, pederasty priest, what not. Surprise element lurks in every corner. One such is Enrique discovers that Ignacio is dead and the impostor is Ignacio’s brother. But even long before, on the very first meeting itself, Enrique felt so, now its just he knew it.

Rocking Moment

I watched 'rock on' without subtitles. My Hindi knowledge is limited to contextual meaning. With that, speaking about Rock on is not such a great idea. I liked the movie. May be if I had known the language, I might have appreciated it more. There are several moments of brilliance. But each one is followed by too much of ‘typical Hindi film’ as if for every good thing he did the director want to balance with run of the mill stuff. The movie could have been in a different echelon if it has not had those ‘compensatory’ (like the post movie sequences showing they lived so happily or the brain tumor track).

This is more about a particular scene .The back-story: Joe, Aditya, rob and KD are friends and rock is the thread that connects them. They have a band, named ‘magik’. They participate in a rock competition and win the deal to do an album. Aditya and Joe are the thick friends in the band. Debbie is Joe’s girl friend and fashion design is her passion. During the album shoot out things turn bad and friends break up. Times pass, KD is into his fathers business, Rob is into film music, and Aditya is a successful investment banker. Joe is a man unable to compromise with reality and lives a life of a ‘failure’ creative guy. Debbie, his wife, is running his ‘god damned family business’.

Sakshi, Aditya’s wife, comes to know about his past and sensing, in spite of his success, he is not having ‘life’, forces him to join with his friends. Now they are back as band having ‘good old time’ in Aditya’s luxurious house. While talking to Joe about the new offer she could get for him, Debbie finds about the revival of magik. She asks him to come out, pointing out the kid and their future. Now Debbie goes to meet Aditya to speak on this.

Debbie waits in Aditya’s house. The house is clear indication of richness. Debbie is sitting in a chair on the verge of seat as if intimidated by it’s grandeur. Sakshi comes to welcome her. They are meeting for first time. Debbie says congratulations. Sakshi see’s her stomach and says thanks. Debbie says 'your face is bright'. This shot is an indication, to show their family is on sweet ride. Because on the very first scene where Aditya and Sakshi where speaking about sakshi's plan for aditya birthday, she is sitting in the cot, he is in shower.Aditya says lets go out to eat alone as he has work to do.Then he comes out and start to sleep exhausted by his work. Sakshi cuddles him from back and go to sleep.

Aditya jubilantly welcomes Debbie. Debbie, the women who dreamt of becoming a fashion designer but now maintaining a fish business, with neither time to crave for past nor to dream for future as her hands are full of present, is sitting in a house which has a fountain in hall, in front of her yester year friend who is now financially as successful as she might want to be. With a remarkably well played emotions she tells him, he was a ‘creative rebel’ and now a successful business man with a nice wife and beautiful house.

This shot spawns out a tangential story to the main film giving a beautiful completion to the character, Debbie.

fooled by randomness

“Fooled by randomness” by Nissim Nicholas Taleb is an interesting read. It tries to explain the role of chance in life, more through the example of market. In the course it speaks about probability, skewness, odd, expectation, mean vs. median- what not. The book is written in entertaining manner bringing lot of laugh and thinking. One may agree or disagree with the book, but surely it will make the reader to contemplate. A book can never change a person’s view of life on a single read. (That’s why I stay away from self guide and motivational genre.)But what, a worth a read, will do is resurfacing itself at several places showing how true it was. This book is worth a read.

Trying to explain what this book speaks is not an easy thing, but let me try to point out the ones that pops out after a week (Time is a good filter to remove the noise).

1. If we have sufficient number of monkeys knowing to hit typewriter, then there is a possibility one monkey might produce an Iliad, but it doesn’t mean it will make another epic. More the people, more the chance, the so called success to be a pure random event.

2. If there is an urn with 50 white and 50 red balls, more the red ball you take out less the chance of drawing a red ball on next draw. So in a way past history has a negative co relation in predicting future.

3. Whatever be the number of white swans you see, it is not sufficient to say all swans are white. It just need 1 black swan to say swan can be black.

4. Random thing can decide the outcome but not the way you see it or react to it. This is the important thing that made me to appreciate the book. Means, not the ends that matter. As Nissim says “The only article lady Fortuna has no control is your behavior”

felix qui potuit cognoscere causas

This weekend one of my friends is entering into wedlock. He was my room mate in my final year of college. Any friend's marriage is news to be elated and his marriage has more reasons to cherish. It’s a five years love journey hitting up a milestone a.k.a marriage. Before that they were close friends for four years. It is one of the classic college day’s stories where the love lying low in the waters' of friendship surface up under the sudden revelation of getting separated. Well five years gone by and now they enter into matrimony, I toast for their happy married life.

Love in all forms and colors happening around -who chose not declare the love as it won't culminate as marriage because of socio-family reasons, who declared it and withdrawn either not being able to fight up against those forces, or saying it was a wrong call, who declared and reached a milestone and then decided it is not what they thought and also the one who fit into the last line of the fairy tales we love to hear. It’s really a beautiful thing to see people in love, being in the room or conversing with them. Faces brimming with joy. Oh man… life is so beautiful through their eyes.

Love is too fickle. It takes a great skill and art to make it luminous. Sometimes in this journey love simply passes away as the fume that escapes from the candle. Love is a necessary thing. It’s the elixir; hope and reason. That's why most people fall in love in moments of solitude than while surrounded by clamor. It’s a momentary feel. If one dissects it, it will masquerade. In certain things ignorance is bliss and happy doesn't lie in knowing the things behind... The only way of being in love is madly in love.

I got this in email: Life ends when U stop dreaming, Hope ends when U stop believing, Love ends when U stop caring, Friendship ends when U stop sharing. I ask, "I care for my friends and don't 'u in love' share with your loved ones?”

weekend blues

When I don't know what I want to do, isn't better to do something to prove someone rather than brooding on what I want?

----------------------

During the moments of Saturday night, staring on gtalk looking for some one to pop up,sending "hi hru" , asking carefully chosen questions on location, climate, life, weekend plans, hearing and saying, 'my social life is becoming void.....", somewhere in my ear Tennyson screams loud, "'Tis better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all"

weekend

I write in this space only if I had something to write and the whole world conspires to say it. But now I am writing as I want to write something. Reason , you will find it 2 posts below. I am sitting in by med with laptop, in a place where it's name suggests it should be, in a room filled with heat waves, hoping someday I'll get my magic touch ...........


This weekend I watched three movies (well that's what I do on most weekends).Jaane tu ya Jaane na is a feel good movie on college day love. The movie started well. But as it progressed i could no longer be with the film. Things looked predictable. Later when I thought about it , the movie had all the things I used to enjoy. It was sweet, beautiful and romantic. I wonder I am hitting the age circle where I could no longer empathetic with a feel good college day romantic movie, where every one is as good as one wish and life is nothing but youthful exuberance. Am I getting romantically challenged?


children of heaven is an Iranian film, which revolves around 2 poor kids. The story: Ali miss his little sister shoe while bringing from repair shop. His mother is ill and his father is finding difficult to meet the ends with his salary. So he tells his sister not to tell to dad and they will workout themselves. The story then goes on about how they manage with the Ali's shoe and Ali's constant attempts to get her sister a new pair of shoe. The movie is filled with nothing but poverty , but there is no scene or dialogue of melodrama and most of the time movie moves through the eyes of the 2 kids. The way the story unfolds and the scene moves i felt the movie is more a poem than a movie. Romanticization of distress and poverty like 'life is beautiful', 'the barn'..


Rear window- 'the' Hitchcock movie. The hero is a famous photographer and he is in his room with his leg broken . He develops a habit of watching the adjacent houses through his rear window. By this he suspects a salesman living in apartment opposite to his house has killed his wife and what follows is told in an engaging manner.The way Hitchcock establishes each character and the indifference with which he builds the tension of the viewer, makes the movie a great watch.

Does Time makes it?

It is the first day after summer holidays. Classes are bustling with noises. Students are in their new class room. Guys, who are lucky enough to maintain their coterie, are making up for all the talks missed during summer. The air is filled with narrations of truth and fantasies. In the room full of fun and hope there sits a guy in the last bench more introvert with an eye that doesn't conceal he is not part of the party. He is staring through the window. Some sit next to him. They know he was retained in that class. They whisper among themselves as if to not distract him. As hours progress someone calls him: " anna". He starts to talk reluctantly. They give respect and asks him on the new teachers, how to cajole or dodge them. He catches the widening eyes of them as he answers. The new superiority brings smile to his lips and an proud to his eyes. Deep inside, he may even enjoy his failure, for what it gives now. Or is it just his soul found a way to condone its failures? Even if he fails next year its just matter of few hours of gloom, till someone in the class calls him , "anna.."

It's just a matter of time to start saying, "Honestly dear, I don't give a damn..."

on writing

It is high time since I wrote on what I am reading. The primary reason nothing triggered me to write about it. It doesn't mean I ended up in wrong books. Most of them were either competitive or good, but not lingering enough. I read the recent best selling authors earlier works or consecutive works of same author. The first book impresses me and the second one started to show patterns. The only book I didn't finish and left in middle (actually I didn't read even one tenth :) )is Umberto Eco's Baudolino. the book is not compelling enough and also I had some other things to do. I am planning to read The Name of the Rose or Foucault's Pendulum.

The latest reading is 'on Writing' by Stephen King.Through the book Stephen King speaks to the reader about his life instances which groomed him as writer, what he did and how he did? Then he speaks more about what a potential writer shall do and lastly what writing is all about. The greatest strength about the book is it never becomes didactic. The important things he repeats are :
1. Write in active not in passive
2. Avoid adverb
3. Read a LOT and write a LOT. Do them with discipline
4. Don't wait for big story. Keep writing , the story and magical touch will come.
5. Don't bother on symbolism, theme, style , plot bla blas.. first tell the story.. allow the story to grow on its own. It will chose its own theme , style etc..on the course. On a subconscious level you will be telling what you want to tell.
6. Give a break, get back to story now bring in all you needed(theme, allusion etc..) and make sure to reduce the word count at least by 10%.
7. Give to your ideal reader. Get feedback and harness it.

The book is an interesting and must read for any one who thinks about writing.

Dasavatharam

I am on phone. She knew I have been to Dasavtharam and I have admiration for Kamal.
How is Dasavatharam?
mmm... Its Ok..
Not good?
Not like that.. but most of the people who came with me didn't like it...
Hi.. tell me whether you liked it or not?

We go to a theatre and film starts. It may make us to think, laugh or cry (sometimes to look into watch). But ultimately what matters is does it engross us? It is immaterial what happened before, under what conditions its coming out. But on other side when a man ventures into what have not been done and have passion and love for what he does and veers of the target or miscalculates it , it still needs some applause, at least some pat in back. That's why I don't have an simple yes or no for that question .

On almost every frames there is a technical brilliance. Most of the shots have more than 1 Kamal on the screen and between them there is a visible physical difference. And for the first time in a Tamil film, technology is not on face and blends into movie. Unless we sit and and think it never strikes how much graphics, camera etc... has gone into that shot. Will it work out commercially? I don't know, because , if you want to sell it you should have it bold and italicized (It was not surprising when I hear why this movie consumed so much of money? )

Graphics hovers between 'too good' to 'bad' in several places. But considering the fact what it was trying to replicate the graphics was good. Makeup also follows the path of graphics. There is "balramnaidu" for us to praise the make up and also "kalif ulla" to leave a bad taste.

Kamals' acting notched up few new territories. As the face is plastered with dough, he shows all the difference just with the eyes and body language. Let it be villain or the old lady in the climax or the balram naidu or kalif ulla- infront of the hospital or rangaraja nambi, Kamal soars high .

Dialogues were good. It looks as if written by Sujatha and Crazy Mohan. There is no ingenuity except Kamal's speech in Nehru stadium. But dialogues are good, rib tickling, thought provoking and also witty.

Now the big question. The question what every one means when they ask how is a movie? : " What is the story and how is it told? ". I saw an NDTV interview in which Kamal rated himself less for acting and proclaimed, he is one of the best in industry when it comes to script writing. If one has to validate that statement only with Dasavatharam, (there are movies which makes me to to nod for what he said), I wonder what he means by screenplay. To start with he has a wafer thin story, hero wants to destroy a bio weapon (a vial) and the villain want to have it. Well Gilli too had a story of cat and mouse chase. But the difference is in the way it was told. Here everything happens by coincidence (chaos or 'Gods plan' depends on what controls your thoughts-is it Science or God ). But for a screenplay it never works , for a simple reason, no one does anything and everything is under the control of probability which never engages the viewer and pushes him to backseat.

That is the reason why even if one of the best things happened in Tamil film industry , the 12th century sequence, losses all it charms when a viewer asks why is it needed in the film. First comes need then the presentation , but Kamal got it topsy -turvy. Whatever crossed his mind found a place in the movie. I wondered why there is a jail riot in virumandi, why so much talk like a radio drama in Anbe Sivam and now I wonder why there is Dasavatharam ?

If we look into most of the Kamal interviews there will be a agony and a pain of the man who has to fight for everything he has to do. He always says he don't want to waste time for the question if he is ahead of time. May be he feels he has lot to tell and clock is ticking. I am never good in public pulse . More often my feel for a film and commercial results where in opposite direction. If Dasavtharam becomes commercially hit, I will be more than happy for the fact that 'HE' deserves a success though not for this but for all the anbe sivam,aalavandhan and virumandi's. But the better the quicker if he understands the boundary of "too much".

why is it so infrequent

The movie was running in sci-fi channel. I don't know the movie name and it is one of the movies that they make 'in house'. Something horrible happened in her past and probably she is sitting there to think about what next but ends up in thinking about what happened and how it could be thwarted. When the director pitched it should have been like this: The lady is sitting on the banks of a stream. The place is serene. She picks up the pebble and throw in to the slow moving stream. It ripples and gets lost into numerous pebbles lying below. She picks up another and over time she just swings her hand there is no pebble in her hand and her eye is lost into horizon with the empty hand drawing an slowly moving arc on air which forms a poetic picturization in the viewers eye. But what we see is through the eyes of a camera which fails to focus what it shall focus and a face which has no clue on what it does and we end up in seeing a person who sits on a place for reasons she don't know and do things just because she had been asked to do.

But this happens quite often, something which looks so beautiful in mind but when started to put in action tatters and looks like, “பிள்ளையார் பிடிக்க போய் குரங்கு பிடிச்ச கதையாய்” When I am about to bed or when I wake up in middle of night or in the morning hours when one have time and wish to sleep and sleep eludes, something forms in mind, which looks so impeccable with all pieces of the puzzle in place . But as time slips and when I log in to transmit what is in the brain to to the tips of finger, somewhere in the channel it gets distorted. Sometimes I may miss the magic line, sometimes it looks things just not in order or out of context.....

Unlike that director I don't have deadlines so I press the delete button instead of publish button.

Thats it

I was playing,
throwing the dice,
Counting the numbers,
moving the coin ,
smiling on hitting the ladder and
crying when stung by snake.

I smile for stings on knowing
neither can I chose the number nor quit the game :)

வாழ்வியல்கள்-2

மறைத்து,

மரத்து,

மறந்தே போகின்றன,

வாழ்தலுக்கான காரணங்கள்...

பிறத்தலுக்கும் இறத்தலுக்குமான

இடைவெளியை இருத்தலில்.

வாழ்வியல்கள்-1

எதோ ஒரு புள்ளியில் இணைத்துவிடலாம் என்று

இழுக்கபடுகின்றன எல்லா சக்கரங்களும்....

தண்டவாளங்கள் இணைவதாய் தெரிவது

காட்சிபிழை என்பது புரியும்வரை...

idle brain

சொல்லவா

சொல்லா மல்

செல்ல வா, பதில்

சொல்ல வா,

செல்ல மே......

class blood

I am planning to write about something. As usual after turning on laptop I started to browse and ended up in this line.

Eugene O’Neill said, "The people who succeed and do not push on to a greater failure are the spiritual middle-classers."

Comments ?????

பீமா

நீண்ட இடைவெளிக்கு பிறகு எழுதுகிறேன். இடமாற்றம் இடைவெளி ஏற்படுத்தும் என்பது எதிர்பார்த்ததுதான். ஆனால் இவ்வளவு நீண்ட இடைவெளி எதிர்பாராதது. என்ன காரணம் என எழுதலாமா? எனக் கூட யோசித்தேன். எல்லா காரணமும் சிறிய கேள்விக்கு உட்படுத்தின்னாலே அபத்தமாக தோன்றியது. வாழ்க்கை என்பதே எல்லா திட்டமிடல்களையும், எதிர்பார்ப்புகளையும் தூக்கி எறிந்து எக்காளமிடும் அபத்தங்களின் கலவையாக தெரிகிறது. மிகவும் யோசித்து நகர்த்த படும் காய்களை விட, எதோ நிகழ்தகவுக்கு உட்பட்டு கட்டையில் விழும் எண்களே பெரும்பாலான ஆட்டங்களின் முடிவுகளை தீர்மானிக்கறது, ஆனாலும் தாயக்கரம் தொடர்ந்து விளையாடபடுவதர்க்கு காரணம் இந்த 'திட்டமிடல்களே'. இப்படி பட்ட அபத்தங்களுக்கும் , கணிப்புகளுக்கும் இடையே நடக்கும் ஒரு பரமபதம் தான் 'பீமா'.

கடைசி வரி படித்து விட்டு புருவம் உயர்த்துபவர்களுக்கு சில disclaimers:
பீமா - பல குறைகள் கொண்ட, தன்னை எந்த வரிசைக்குள் நுழைப்பது என்ற கேள்விக்கு விடை தெரியமால் தடுமாறி, 2.30மணி நேர நிரப்பல், குத்து பாட்டு போன்றவற்றின் முறையற்ற மசாலா கலவை. படதின் ஆரம்பத்தில் இந்த ஓட்டைகள் பிரம்மாண்டமாகவே தெரிகிறது. எழுந்து போய் விடலாமா எனக் கூட யோசித்தேன். ஆனால் இடைவெளியின் போது படம் கிட்டதட்ட ஒரு கோட்டுக்கு வந்திருந்தது. இது வரை நான் தமிழில் இது போன்ற முழு நீழ action படம் பார்க்கவில்லை என்றே தோன்றியது. விக்ரமின் சிறந்த body languageயும் நல்ல தொழில்நுட்பமும் நிறைந்த சண்டை காட்சிகளை காட்ட உதவவேண்டும் என்ற ஒற்றைக் குறிக்கோளுடன் உருவாக்கப் பட்ட திரைக்கதையாக தெரிந்தது.

ஆனால் ஒட்டுமொத்தமாக , சில அழகிய காட்சிகளும், கொஞ்சம் subtleties யும் கொண்ட வரவேற்கதக்க படமாய் தெரிவதற்கு முக்கிய காரணம் படதின் பின்பகுதி. காதல் வயபடுகின்ற நொடியில் நிகழும் கவன சிதறல்களின் பக்க விளைவுகள் காட்ட பட்ட விதமும், விக்ரம் பிரிந்து செல்கின்ற தருணத்தில் பிரகாஷ் ராஜ் தன் மனைவியிடம் சொல்கிற வசனமும் படத்தின் ரசிக்கதக்க தருணங்களில் சில.

படம் பார்த்து ஒரு நாள் கழித்தும் என்னுள் இருக்கும் ஒரு மிக பெரிய கேள்வி: படத்தின் முடிவு வேறு மாதிரியாக இருந்திருந்தால் எந்த அளவுக்கு இந்த படத்தை ரசித்து இருப்பேன்? படத்தின் குறைகள் தாண்டியும் என்னை படம் ஈர்த்ததுக்கு காரணம் துன்ப இயல்கள் மேல் எனக்கு இருக்கும் ஒரு 'romantic attachmentஆ?' இல்லை என்றே தோன்றுகிறது. காரணம்: முடிவு படதிற்கு ஒரு முற்றுத் தன்மையை தருகிறது. கடைசி பாடலுக்கும் முன் படம் முடிவதற்கு வாய்ப்பு இருக்கிறது(வியாபர கட்டாயங்களுக்கு படம் விரைவில் திருத்தப்பட்டால் ஆச்சரியம் இல்லை). ஆனால் பல விடையற்ற கேள்விகளுடன் படம் முடிந்திருக்கும். அதைவிட முக்கியம், படதின் இறுதி காட்சி 'வாழ்க்கை' எல்லா திட்டமிடல்களையும் மிதித்து செல்லும் அபத்தங்களின் juggernaut என்பதை கோடிடுகிறது.

P.S: விக்ரமின் நடிப்பு மிகவும் பிரமாதம். மிகவும் தொய்வான முற்பகுதியை அதுதான் தாங்கி நிற்கிறது.